#no that has nothing to do with what I was going through as a teenager

[inkdrinkerworld]

Fake I.D

synopsis: cowboy!james is infatuated with you and your flirting, so you take him line dancing to get him to make a love

cw: suggestive content, 18+ only, grinding, flirting, use of the word pervert, James and reader are kind of idiots in love

Your hot pink and white boots will be the death of James and he knows you know that.

He can count on one hand how many times he’s seen you out of them and the total number of times is one- every other time, it’s been those godforsaken hot pink and white boots with a thick heel that makes your legs look like something out of his teenage wet dreams.

You’re not new in town, you and James have known each other since primary school but it was in secondary school that you really plagued his every waking thought. You were pretty, and kind, but also confident and didn’t take shit from anyone. James found it wildly attractive.

You and James hadn’t been close friends, but you’d always been friendly. His friend Sirius had introduced you both at a party, and you’d been friendly since that.

The turning point in you and James’ friendship had come not too long after you’d started working at a salon.

James’ parents own the biggest horse farm in town, and you’d rescued a tiny colt that had been trapped up in some bushes while you were on a hike, and drove it to James’ family ranch in the back of your pickup with tears in your eyes because of the cuts on its legs.

James had never seen you, loud, confident you, in tears like that and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest as you hiccuped through your words to tell him about the colt. He and his dad had taken it out of your tray and everyday the colt was on the ranch, you went over to check on him.

Eventually, James was able to nurse the poor thing to perfect health and then asked you if you wanted to name it after his dad told him they’d keep it.

James wasn’t shy himself, but sometimes when you looked right into his eyes, lashes framing your eyes, it made his heart stutter.

“You really think I should?” You had asked, eyes wide with excitement but also a bit of apprehension.

“Yeah, ‘course. It’d only be right.” and as you had stroked the near blood coloured mane, the face of the horse in your other hand, the name came to you easily.

“Copper.”

You and that horse and James had been inseparable after that and James nearly lost his breath every time you went to the ranch after that- cutoff shorts, hot pink and white boots and shirts James swore made him feel like a pervert.

Now, you’re at James’ ranch, a brush in Copper’s mane as you look at James tending to his own filly- Moondancer.

“Please Jamie? It’s fun and you never stay for the dancing.”

He knows he’s fighting a losing battle. You’re doing those puppy dog eyes and you’ve got red eyeliner on to match your shirt and James feels a little overwhelmed with his attraction to you.

“I’ll be your partner all night, Jamie. Won’t leave you to be eaten up by the ladies- save that luxury just for me.”

You giggle when he sputters and his cheeks flush. “Alright, angel. What time do I meet you at the Boneyard?”

You gasp, all faux aghast. “You won’t pick me up at my house? Where’s your southern hospitality?”

James rolls his eyes, “I can do that too. Say seven or eight?”

You pop your hip as Copper nuzzles into your hand. “Will you be all done by then? I don’t want you to cut into your chores and stuff Jamie?”

You’re so earnest, and the flirting has been put to a pause making James turn to goo.

“I’ll be all done, angel. Don’t worry.”

At five thirty, you’re all finished with your makeup, nothing too extreme, just a smokey eye with glitter on your lids and the heavy black eyeliner you noticed James likes.

Your hair is out and ripples down your back in loose curls, your most recent haircut making them look even better than usual.

You’re not trying to impress him, but you have a plan for how tonight is going to end and you want James to finally take all your flirting as seriously as you mean it.

So you dress up and pull out all the stops that you know he likes- the hot pink boots a must, your low rise jeans, and your skirt that says, ‘save a horse.’

When James knocks, you squeal, boots clacking as you race to the door.

“Hey Jamie,” you sing-song as you pull the door open, James taking in a deep breath as his eyes rake over you.

“You look stunning.” There’s a little husk to his voice that you love.

As he gives you a once over, you do the same. He’s dressed in his most relaxed pair of jeans, a blue wash that makes his already thick thighs look ever thicker, a black t-shirt that clings to his arms and nearly makes you drool and his hat. God you love and hate his hat- you love it because he looks stunning in it; but you hate it because it hides away his pretty curls. God you love those curls.

“So do you, Jamie.I like your shirt, it makes your arms look nice.”

He smirks, a little emboldened. “Oh yeah?”

You nod, stepping out of your door, “Ready to go?”

James nods and holds his arm out to you, smiling to himself when your hand wraps around his bicep and not his forearm.

The Boneyard is packed as it usually is, most of the patrons are already more than a little drunk, but you spot some of the girls at your salon, some of James’ friends and some tourists who’re no doubt in tonight for the line dancing.

“A cherry vodka angel?” James asks, wanting a drink to dispel some of his nerves.

“Yes please, James. I’ll go see what songs they have for tonight.”

James nods, watching you walk off first before going over to the bar. Sirius is working tonight, a smirk on his face as he spots James and then spots where he’s looking.

“Finally doing something about all her flirting, Potter?” he asks and James flushes a little as Sirius passes him a beer and then makes your drink without James saying a word.

It takes him a little by surprise that Sirius knows it, but then it dawns on James that he talks about you a lot to his best friend. A lot.

“Trying, but she makes me so fucking nervous, Pads.”

Sirius laughs, patting James on the arm.

“Doesn’t sound so bad, Jamie. You’d be a fool not to be nervous about that girl. She’s trouble all over in the best way.”

James is very inclined to agree.

“Hey Siri, you being nice to James?” You take your drink gratefully and take a sip.

“I was about to ask you the same thing, trouble.” You shrug with a pretty devious smile on your face- James’ heart rate picks up. “Saw you looking at the setlist, you and Potter planning on dancing?”

You nod, smiling when you look up and find James looking at you with fondness written boldly on his face. He’s easy to read, never one to guard his feelings, James.

“Yeah, they’re finally doing Fake I.D again so I figured I’d take James’ virginity in that regard.”

James, bless him, doesn’t sputter, which he’s eternally grateful for. Sirius shares a wicked grin just like yours.

“Don’t make it too vulgar, Remus’ll run you off the dance floor.”

You put your hands up, “I make no promises.”

James is saved from any more teasing from either of you when the song starts playing.

“C’mon Jamie, it’s starting.” He lets you pull him after he downs the last of his drink.

“What if I mess it up?” He whispers as you tug him along. Your hair whips at his chest as you turn to look back at him and he can smell your vanilla shampoo and shuts his eyes for a brief moment.

“You won’t, just follow my lead. You’ll be perfect.”

It takes him a couple steps to get into the song, but seeing you smiling and giggling makes James fall deeper into the music.

The floor rumbles with everyone’s steps, but all you can think about is James behind you as you dance in a circle.

“James!” you squeal when you feel his hands hold onto your hips, James smiling wide as you lean into him a little.

As the guitar solo riff continues you know you have to stay close to James for this part. It isn’t hard because it seems like you’ve both magnetized to each other more than before. As the beat drops, you feel like time has slowed, the words filter into your ears all muffled and soft as you pull James close by his shirt, your chests pressed together. “Hey mister, won’t you sell me a fake i.d.”

You see his breath hitch more than you feel it. You’re both grinding on each other on the dance floor, and it’s way more erotic than anything else either of you could’ve been doing.

“Fuck,” you feel the whisper as James’ hand cements itself to your hip and one of yours buries in his hair.

You tip his hat onto your own head and you swear James’ chest rumbles. “Angel.”

You’re breathless as you and James dance, you feel like you’re the only people on the dance floor.

He dips you backward and you bite back a moan when one of his hands travels up your back to keep his hat on your head. As he picks you up, his fingers knot in your hair and your lips just barely meet.

“James.” You breathe his name and he groans.

“You really are trouble.” his lips meet yours, tentatively at first, and then his mouth consumes yours the moment you kiss him back.

You pull apart and smile, “Took you long enough, James.”

He shakes his head, his dimple poking out as he chases your lips. “You look so good in my hat.”

His stare turns you a little shy and you duck to hide your face in his chest; James laughs at the action.

“Come outta there, sweetheart. Can’t hide those eyes from me now.”

You groan, but look up at him. “Have you always been this smooth?”

James nods, tipping your chin up just a bit higher to kiss your lips again. “Just for you,” you beam at that. “My heart’s thumping.”

“Mine too,” You kiss his jaw, teeth scraping a second path. “Wanna get out of here?”

James slips his hand in your back pocket eliciting a keen he wants to hear more of. “Get your cute butt in my truck, angel.”

You giggle as James squeezes before releasing you, holding your hand with his hat sitting proudly on your head as you stomp your feet out of the bar to his truck. He really does love those hot pink boots.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Salt and Starlight - Lewis Hamilton

Lewis's 40th birthday special part 1

warnings: none

genre: fluff

wordcount: +2k

a/n: It's a '3 times y/n's made Lewis feel like a teenager (on the brink of turning 40) and the one time he did' (except that last bit is the part 2 coming later)

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

What do you give someone who has it all? He is Lewis Hamilton, after all.

I’d been asking myself that question for weeks.

Lewis isn’t exactly the kind of guy who needs another watch, another car, or another piece of art for his collection.

He’s got it all—trophies, fame, money, and a closet full of designer clothes that probably cost more than my first car.

So, what do you give that man ?

The answer came to me one night when we were lying in bed, talking about nothing and everything.

I’d been reminiscing about growing up by the beach, about the stupid, reckless things I did as a teenager that made me feel alive. Lewis had laughed, that deep, warm laugh of his, and said, “God, it’s been years since I’ve felt anything that… teenagery.”

And there it was. My gift to him.

“Are you sure this isn’t just an elaborate ploy to embarrass me?” Lewis asks, tugging the brim of his bucket hat lower over his sunglasses. The hoodie he’s wearing makes him look like a man trying to sneak out of a high school reunion unnoticed.

Which, okay, is kind of the vibe I was going for.

The drive to Santa Barbara was… well, let’s just say Lewis loved being a passenger princess, most times, and that wasn’t one of them.

He kept fidgeting, adjusting the seat, and asking if I was sure I knew where I was going. (Spoiler: I did. Mostly.)

But by the time we pulled up to the boardwalk, the sun was setting, casting the sky in shades of pink and orange, and he finally stopped asking questions.

The amusement park was exactly how I remembered it—bright lights, the smell of cotton candy and fried food, the sound of laughter and screams from the thrill rides. It was chaos, but the good kind.

The kind that makes you feel alive.

“You��re not serious,” Lewis said, staring at the roller coaster like it might bite him.

“Oh, I’m very serious,” I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the line. “Come on, old man. Let’s see if you’ve still got it.”

He glances down at me, a boyish smile breaking through his mock-suspicious expression. “Always.”

And there it is—the grin I was waiting for.

The one that reminds me of the Lewis who still feels like a kid sometimes, who loves the thrill of life just as much as his achievements.

For once, Lewis doesn’t have an itinerary. No obligations, no pressures. Just us.

We hit every ride that promises to throw us around like ragdolls. Rollercoasters that make my stomach drop (and Lewis laugh at my shrieking), bumper cars where I play dirty and spin him into the wall, and that spinning thing that got me questioning my life choices.

By the time we got to the Ferris wheel, the sky was dark, the stars just starting to peek through.

The Ferris wheel was… different. Slower. Quieter.

As we climbed higher, the noise of the park faded away, and it was just us, suspended in the air. Lewis was quiet, staring out at the ocean, and for a moment, I wondered if I’d pushed him too far with this.

“This was the plan all along, wasn’t it?” he says as he leaned into me. His voice is light, but there’s that knowing look in his eyes.

I feign innocence. “What plan?”

“The Ferris wheel. The whole night was a setup for this.”

I smirk, settling into the seat beside him. “You’re giving me way too much credit.”

The wheel begins to turn, the car gently rocking as we rise above the chaos below. The lights from the boardwalk blurring, and for a moment, neither of us speaks.

The world feels smaller up here, quieter.

He shifts closer, and I can feel his gaze on me, warm and intent. “This was a good idea.”

I smiled, leaning into him. “I have those sometimes.”

And then he leans in, his lips brushing against mine.

It starts softly, like he’s savoring the moment, but it deepens quickly, and suddenly the air feels electric. My mind goes blissfully blank, except for the thought that this—this might’ve been what I wanted all along.

When we finally break apart, his forehead rests lightly against mine, and he’s grinning like a teenager who’s just stolen his first kiss. “This feels straight out of a cheesy rom-com.”

“Good,” I manage, still catching my breath. “It’s meant to.”

He laughs, and it’s the kind that bubbles out of him, genuine and unguarded. And I think, there it is again.

That boyish smile I’d give anything to keep seeing.

“You know,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “this is exactly how I imagined love when I was a teenager.”

He chuckled, his breath warm against my skin. “Yeah? Did you imagine me too?”

I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling. “Shut up.”

And then the Ferris wheel started moving again, and we were laughing, and for the first time in a long time, Lewis looked… free.

We were still laughing as we stumbled off the Ferris wheel, my hand in his, the cool ocean breeze brushing against our skin.

Lewis had that look in his eyes—the one he gets when he’s trying to play it cool but is secretly having the time of his life.

It’s rare, these days, to see him so unguarded.

“You know,” he said, pulling me closer as we walked, “I haven’t done anything like this in… I don’t even know how long.”

“What, ridden a Ferris wheel?” I teased, bumping my shoulder against his. “Yeah, I can tell.”

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “No, I mean… this. Just… being spontaneous. Letting go.”

I stopped walking and turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Lewis Hamilton, are you telling me you’ve never been spontaneous? Because I find that hard to believe.”

He shrugged, that infuriatingly charming smirk playing on his lips.

“What?” I ask, bumping my shoulder against his as we weave through the crowd.

He gives me a sideways glance, lips twitching like he’s holding back a laugh. “Nothing. Just you, scheming. Don’t think I don’t know you planned that whole Ferris wheel moment.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help the small smile that sneaks out. “Oh, please. Like I can predict what’s going to happen in the heat of the moment.”

He hums noncommittally, but the way his hand slides into mine, fingers lacing tightly, tells me he’s not buying my act. And I’m not about to argue with him on that. Ever

We walk aimlessly for a while, the neon lights of the boardwalk fading behind us as we drift toward the quieter streets. It’s one of those perfect in-between moments—neither here nor there, where everything feels suspended, and nothing needs to make sense.

That’s when he says it.

“You know,” he starts slowly “you were right earlier. About the Ferris wheel. It did feel… teenagey.”

I smirked. “Told you.”

He hesitated, then said, “So… what’s next?”

I blinked at him, surprised. “What do you mean, what’s next?”

He shrugged, but there was a glint in his eye that made me suspicious. “You’re the one who planned this whole thing. What’s the next stop on the nostalgia train?”

I stared at him for a moment, then grinned. “Well… there is one thing” and before I can stop myself, the words tumble out. “We should get that tattooed. Like, right now.”

For a split second, I expect him to laugh, to brush it off with a comment about how I’m clearly delirious from all the carnival food. But instead, he just raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “What, the ferries wheel?”

“No, ‘40,’” I say, half-joking, half-serious. “Something simple. For this moment, for you.”

To my surprise, he doesn’t immediately shut it down. Instead, he tilts his head, considering. “You’re serious about this?”

“I mean… why not?” I shrug, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze. “You’ve got plenty. One more won’t kill you.”

He hesitated, and I could see the wheels turning in his head.

Lewis doesn’t do things on a whim—not anymore. His tattoos are works of art, carefully planned and executed by the best artists in the world. The idea of walking into some random parlor and getting inked on a whim was probably giving him hives.

He looks at me for a moment, his expression unreadable. And then he smiles, that slow, deliberate smile that makes me feel like he’s about to say something I’m not ready for. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

“Wait, what?”

“You said it yourself. Why not?”

And just like that, we’re standing outside a tattoo parlor that looks like it hasn’t seen a renovation since the early 2000s. The buzzing sound of the needle greets us as we step inside, along with the unmistakable scent of disinfectant and a tattoo artist who looks thoroughly unimpressed with our arrival.

“What are we doing?” I whisper as Lewis fills out the paperwork, his calmness somehow making me more nervous.

“Living like teenager, apparently” he says simply, handing me the pen to fill out my form. “You know, like… spontaneous, stupid, matching tattoos. The kind you get when you’re young and dumb and think it’s a good idea.”

The design we settle on is simple: the number 40, styled in a subtle, abstract way that could mean anything to anyone else. It’s perfect.

Mine goes on my wrist, tucked just under my watch strap. His ends up near his elbow, seamlessly blending into his sleeve, the one he’s spent years building.

When it’s my turn, I flinch at the first touch of the needle, earning a quiet chuckle from Lewis. “Don’t start,” I warn, gritting my teeth as the artist works.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he says, his voice entirely too amused.

When it’s done, we step back to admire our matching tattoos. They’re small, subtle, and utterly reckless in a way that feels right.

“40,” he says, his voice soft but laced with meaning as he looks at the ink.

I glance at him, my chest tightening in a way I wasn’t expecting. “The big four-oh.” I echo.

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t look at me. “Here we go.”

I grin, nudging his arm with my shoulder. “What? It’s a big deal. A milestone. People throw whole festivals for this kind of thing. They buy sports cars.” I pause, then laugh. “Well, I guess you’ve already got the cars covered.”

“Funny,” he says, finally glancing at me. There’s a glint of amusement in his eyes, but it fades quickly, replaced by something softer, more reflective. “It doesn’t feel like a big deal. Not really. It’s just… a number.”

“Uh-huh.” I tilt my head, studying him. “And how many times have you told yourself that the past month?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Too many.”

By the time we’ve grabbed more food—a greasy basket of fries—it’s late. The boardwalk is still buzzing behind us, but we’ve drifted to the sand, away from the crowds.

The ocean stretches out before us, vast and dark, lit only by the moon and the occasional flicker of a far-off boat.

Lewis sits beside me,  his hands occasionally finding their way onto my back his hoodie pulled up against the chill of the night. I watch as he unwraps his burger with careful precision, like the fate of the world rests on not spilling ketchup.

“Not bad for a last-minute dinner date,” I say, popping a fry into my mouth.

He looks at me, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Not bad at all.”

We eat in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of the waves filling the gaps. I can feel him thinking, though.

The way his fingers drum lightly against his knee, the slight furrow in his brow—it’s all there if you know where to look.

“You’re being suspiciously quiet,” I say, nudging him lightly with my elbow.

He glances at me, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

He takes a bite of his burger, chewing slowly as if buying time to form an answer. Finally, he swallows and looks out at the water. “About this. About everything, really.”

“Everything?” I echo, raising an eyebrow. “That’s… vague.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “My birthday. Turning 40.”

I pause, the fry I was about to eat halfway to my mouth. “Oh, you’re having a midlife crisis?” I grin, trying to lighten the mood.

He gives me a look—half amused, half exasperated. “I’m not having a midlife crisis.”

“Sure sounds like one.”

He laughs, but it’s softer this time, his gaze still fixed on the ocean. “It’s not that I’m worried about turning 40. I just… I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about.”

I stay quiet, letting him take his time. You don’t rush these kinds of conversations.

“It’s funny,” he continues. “I’ve spent my whole life in this sport. Every year, every decision—it’s all been about racing. And now I’m here, about to hit 40, and…” He trails off, shaking his head.

“Hm?” I prompt gently, not pushing, just giving him space.

“And I thought I’d feel more certain about where I am.” He exhales, a long, slow breath that seems to carry years of weight. “I’ve told myself so many times I wouldn’t still be racing at this age. But here I am, and I don’t want to stop. Not yet. And now, with Ferrari…”

His voice breaks off again, and I see his hand flex slightly, like he’s trying to grasp something just out of reach.

“You’re scared,” I say quietly, not as an accusation, just an observation.

He laughs, but it’s more bitter than lighthearted. “Terrified…. Not of the racing—I know I can still do that. But of… everything else. Of failing, of not being enough. Of proving the people right who think I’m too old or that I should have stopped like Nico.”

I set my burger down, leaning toward him. “You’re not afraid of proving them right, Lewis. You’re afraid you might believe them.”

That gets his attention and his gaze snaps to mine, something flashing in his eyes.

“It’s not that I doubt myself completely,” he says after a moment. “But it’s there, in the back of my mind. This little voice asking if I’m trying to hold onto something that’s already slipping away.”

I take a breath, my heart tightening at the vulnerability in his words. “You’re not just holding on. You’re still building something. And you’re allowed to want that, even at 40.”

He looks down, his jaw tightening briefly. “I want to believe that. I really do… But then I think about all the things I’ve given up along the way—time with family, relationships, moments I’ll never get back. And I wonder if it’s selfish to keep chasing a dream.”

I nod, my chest tightening. “I get it. And I think it’s good that you’re thinking about these things. It means you care.”

His head tilts slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It’s not simple. It’s messy, and ugly, and complicated, and terrifying. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just watches me with an intensity that makes my chest ache.

“I’ve never been good at slowing down,” he admits finally. “Even now, there’s so much I want to do. So many dreams I’ve had since I was a kid that I’ve never had time for. And part of me wonders if I ever will.”

“You will,” I say softly. “Maybe not all of them at once. But you will. We will.”

He sighs, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he leans back on his hands, staring up at the stars. “Sometimes I wish I still had that recklessness, but with everything I know now.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works; you know that don't you, grandpa?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckles, the sound warmer this time. “Fair point.”

After a beat, he smirks, glancing at me. “You keep calling me old though, but I don’t remember you complaining last night.”

I burst out laughing, shaking my head. “Oh, shut up. You’re ruining the moment.”

He grins, and just like that, the heaviness of the conversation lifts slightly, replaced by something lighter but no less real.

As we get up to leave, I brush the sand off my hands and glance at him. “For the record, I like vintage Ferraris better anyway.”

“Now that you’ve mentioned it. There’s another teenager dream I’ve always had.”

He laughs as he reaches for my waist, and this time, it’s full and unrestrained. The sound carries over the waves, as he turns me around on the sand and captures my lips with his once again.

There, under the moonlight I know how much I love this man—even when he’s scared, even when he’s uncertain.

Especially then.

_____________________________________________________________

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[cokoakeostuff]

Legend, Koholint.

i’m not real

He’s a talented and experienced hero, someone who has faced countless challenges and saved everyone more than once. But the spark he once had has faded. His adventures stopped being exciting and began to feel like a burden.

The events of A Link to the Past, Oracle of Seasons, and Oracle of Ages left their mark on him, but what truly shook him was his visit to Koholint Island.

There were no kingdoms in danger, no imminent threats, no grand destiny awaiting him. For the first time, Link had no one to save. And the more time he spent on the island, the more attached he became to its people, especially to one person: Marin.

He fell in love with Her and with the peace of the island. But he couldn’t help to continue in his journey to uncover the mysteries of the place. The monsters that arrived with him seemed to be trying to stop him, and the warnings were clear: if he kept going, he would only bring misfortune. Yet Legend continued.

In the end, he discovered the truth. Everything he had lived through on Koholint was nothing more than a dream created by the Wind Fish. Waking the Wind Fish would erase the island and all its people.

And what else could he do? He completed his mission, because that’s what heroes do, right? But this time, it didn’t feel like a victory. Nothing about it made him feel like the hero he once was. Even if Koholint wasn’t real, for Link, it felt like sacrificing an entire village just to save himself.

And if it was all just a dream… why does losing Marin and all those people hurt so much?

Koholint was a reminder that not all adventures end with a "happily ever after."

——

I just need to talk about him, he has been living in my mind rent free, Im gonna post this later but it’s 4AM and I can’t sleep because IM THINKING ABOUT HIM, anyway, short comic about Legend, his thoughts and what he is going trough. And come on, he is a teenager, nothing hurts more at that age than a broken heart.

[sun-kissy]

fairytale | j.p.

james potter x reader

summary: james takes you to the amusement park on your birthday

cw: fluff!! so much fluff

a/n: i’m dedicating this to my lovely friend rese, @foodiegoogie, happy birthday <333

James’ eyes narrow as he looks at the little signboard on the cotton candy booth. “You’re sure you don’t want the Mickey Mouse shaped one? Like — absolutely sure?”

You tsk, crossing your arms over your chest. “Enough of the whole Mickey Mouse agenda, Jamie. Look at us.”

You do jazz hands towards yourself. James has to admit you’re right — you’re wearing a headband with the iconic round ears, and his sweatshirt has a picture of the happy-go-lucky rodent on it.

“Okay, okay,” he relents. “Can we at least get the heart-shaped one?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” you boop his nose teasingly. “It’s my birthday. I think you should let me choose.”

The booth vendor stares blankly at the two of you.

James pretends to pout, but he’d easily let you choose, birthday or not. He doesn’t think he’d ever have the heart to say no to you. “Fine then, go on and pick.”

He takes pride in making you beam so brightly. You turn to the vendor excitedly.

“Can I please get a…” you pretend to think with the tip of your finger tapping your chin. “Hmm… a heart-shaped one, perhaps?”

James grins, bending down to stamp a kiss to your cheek. “You naughty minx.”

“Hey!” you say between giggles, leaning away as he tries to pepper your face with kisses. “That’s not a nice thing to say to the birthday girl.”

He wraps his arm around your waist to hold you in place, giving you a firm peck on the lips. You happily oblige.

“I’ll say anything I want to the birthday girl, cos she’s my girl,” James murmurs into another quick kiss before straightening up and taking the cotton candy from the vendor.

You roll your eyes. But it’s no use, you know you probably look as giddy as you feel. “Flirt.”

James grins proudly. He steers you towards the rides with a hand on the small of your back. “Which one should we go on next?”

You and him had been here all evening. Because you’d been talking about going to the amusement park for weeks, he thought he’d surprise you by getting tickets for your birthday. You weren’t exactly surprised — your boyfriend wasn’t very subtle about it, his own excitement slipping out a lot in the days leading up to it. But you were happy; that’s all that James needed.

You tear some cotton candy off the stick before handing it back to him. “What about…” you ask between stuffed mouthfuls of the sugary cotton, “That one?”

James turns to look at the rollercoaster you’re pointing at, and has to refrain from outwardly gulping.

It’s big, really big, and black, sort of like a metal beast with its fangs to the sky. He feels a shudder go through him at the thought of being flung off those tracks.

“Um…” he scratches the nape of his neck nervously. “Are you sure, sweetheart? I’m not sure if — if you can handle it.”

“Me? Or you?” you snort, looping your arm through his and pulling him towards the attraction. “Relax, babe. We’ll be fine. Unless…”

You pull him to a stop and squint at him, glaring. James gulps. “Unless you’re scared?”

“Nope! No, nuh-uh. Not scared at all. That monst — rollercoaster’s got nothing on me,” he blurts out immediately and puffs out his chest.

You grin, giving him a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. The two of you join the queue outside the entrance.

You didn’t think James was secretly just a teenage girl. But judging by the pitch of his screams on this rollercoaster, maybe he was.

Laughter bubbles out of you as the wind rips through your hair, twists and turns pulling your stomach in every direction possible. You turn to look at James.

He’s positively terrified, hands in the air and shrieks getting louder by the second. It makes your laughter worse.

The rollercoaster finally screeches to a halt. You hop off and wait patiently for James to stumble out.

“God,” he groans, immediately wrapping his arms around you as soon as he gets close. He makes another pained sound as he leans forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder. “That really was something.”

You giggle, rubbing his back consolingly. “You okay? You were so brave up there.”

“So brave, wasn’t I? So brave,” he mumbles, as if to convince himself.

“Very brave,” you nod, easing him off you and gently steering him away.

James mutters some incoherent agreement, leaning against you and pressing a kiss into your hair. You pat his back and squeeze his hip encouragingly.

“So,” he mutters as he straightens up, as though dreading it, “What next?”

You take a glance around you. You were too preoccupied to notice it before — but the sun had begun to set, sky losing its light. Maybe it was time to let James get a taste of the love he so easily showered you in.

You turn to him. “You choose.”

He blinks. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” he coos and kisses your cheek, marveling at how red you instantly turn. “This is why I love you.”

You pout. “Because I let you choose a ride on my birthday?”

“Exactly,” he grins unapologetically, intertwining your fingers in his before pulling you in the direction of whatever he had in mind. You sigh and follow behind.

“Here we are.”

The two of you come to a stop in front of a looming, lit-up, circular structure, and your smile widens. “Ferris wheel?”

“Ferris wheel,” James confirms.

“You’re so cliché.”

“You love it,” he chuckles. He takes you to an empty cabin and helps you in.

James gets in next to you. His arm goes around your shoulder and open palm on your lap, like he always seems to be doing these days. You take his hand.

The wheel starts up, cabin moving upward. You turn away to look outside and feel your heart swell with something like love at the sight.

Beautiful is too less of a word for it. The sky is painted in hues of pink and golden, straight out of a movie. There’s so many people down below. They get smaller and smaller. The amusement park is adorned in lights and liveliness and laughter; and you think you might just be looking at the closest-to-textbook-definition depiction of love.

That’s until you hear James’ voice from beside you. “Y/n?”

“Hm?” you mumble, eyes fixated on the sinking sun.

“I love you.”

James told you this a thousand times an hour, twenty four hours a day. But something about the way he just said it made you turn around to look at him, and you’re glad you did, because the view was even better.

He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that mattered, like the loveliness of the sunset didn’t stand a chance against yours. And you want to melt. You want to melt and you want to kiss him and you wish you could do everything all at once; there was just too much love in your heart to be shown through one singular gesture.

Instead, all that comes out is a soft, “Oh.”

James smiles wider.

“I love you too,” you babble, and you know you sound like a lovesick fool. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I love you too, James. So much.”

He doesn’t even give you a second to recalibrate before his hand is on your cheek, lips gently pressing onto yours.

It didn’t feel like a fairytale kiss — like you were a princess, and there were fireworks in the background. It felt like home.

Like his lips had found their safe haven on yours, because you’d definitely found yours in him. James kisses you like he loves you, and you know he does. You know because he says it, because he’s holding you like you’re the most special girl in the world.

You may not have been a princess that night — or any night, for that matter. But you got to be James’ for now, maybe forever. What more could you want?

You pull back, breaths mingling in the loved air for a few moments. James grins and leans in for another one, which you happily give.

“I love you, sweetheart. Happy birthday,” he murmurs, hands threading through your hair as he presses a sweet kiss to your nose.

It really was a happy birthday.

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (11)

originally posted on my old account. Trip loading twice weekly :)

Alexia’s pov 

“Ale please stay. Don’t leave me, please.” Hearing her beg for me not to leave her broke my heart. 

“I’ll be right back bebé, I’m just getting some water.” 

Alba and Mami were sitting on couch when it went out to the kitchen. 

“She asked me not to leave, so I’m going to go back in there. You should go home. Thank you for your help.” I set back off to Amelia’s room. The heart breaking scene of her curled into a ball, her eyes red and swollen, and the sound of sniffles through the air. 

I put her phone on charge and her water bottle on her bed side table, quickly making my way to the other side of the bed and climbing in. Pulling her into my arms and holding her until she fell asleep. After she had been asleep for half an hour, I messaged Keira and Lucy. Telling them I had Mil and asked them to come to her apartment. I didn’t know what to do. Im not good with my own emotions, and helping someone who is so deeply hurt is new to me. 

Keira Walsh: I’m here. Let me in please. 

Reluctantly, I got up, slowly in hopes to not wake Mil. The afternoon sun has lit up the apartment, it was bright and golden, a solemn contrast to the way Mils room felt. Opening the door, I was shocked to see someone else with Keira. Leah Williamson. 

“Hi Alexia.” The England captain shyly said. I opened the door further to let both women in. 

“Sorry, I thought it would be best to call Leah. She knows everything that happened with Milly and she got on the first flight here.” I nodded my head in understanding, that was smart in Keira’s behalf. 

“Is she asleep?” 

“Yeah. She was at the beach surfing and Mami bought us back here. She was just sitting in the shower with boiling water on her, she looked.” I had to take a second to compose myself, I would not be crying in front of Leah. “She looked broken.”

Keira and Leah just looked at each other. Sharing knowing looks and then Leah spoke up. 

“She said she loved you, right? That’s what caused this?” 

“Yes.” 

“I think we should all sit down. You need to hear this Alexia.” 

There were a few things in this world that make me anxious. Meeting my sisters new girlfriends, doing interviews in English, teenage boys and Amelia Higgins. 

“Okay so obviously you know the public details of what happened with Emily and her?” 

“Si” 

“Emily was going to end things. She had written down on a piece of paper everything she wanted to say. Basically consisted of that she was still in love with Mil. Mil was still her favourite person and that Mil was her soulmate, but Emily wasn’t hers.”

“Right? Okay?”

“Emily always knew that Mils heart didn’t completely belong to her. I think she hoped that over time it would change but it never did. Mil has always loved you.” 

I didn’t say anything. This was a lot to take in, her own friends telling me she has always loved me? What could’ve happened if I had said something earlier? Ended things with Jenni earlier? 

“Ale.” Keira grabbed my hands, taking my attention away from ripping my nails off. “She doesn’t want to love you because she’s scared. After being given the note, she blamed herself. Mil thinks she caused this. She doesn’t want anything to happen to you or to your family. If you truly love her like I think you do, you’ll need to let her come to you. There’s nothing more I want than to see you both happily together but that won’t happen unless she comes to you.” 

“I’ll wait for her. I don’t care how long it takes but I won’t leave her.” 

We didn’t talk after that, the sun started setting and they were talking about ordering food for dinner. 

“I think I’m going to go home. I think it’ll, uh, it’ll be better if I’m not here when she wakes up.” 

Before Leah or Keira could reply, Amelia yelled out from the bedroom.

“Alexia? Alexia? Fuck ale please come back. I need you to come back.” her voice broke, thinking I’d left her when she needed me the most. Running back into the room, I quickly climbed into the bed and pulled her into my chest. 

“No amor. I’m here. I’m not leaving you, okay? I’m here.” I felt her nod her head against my chest, then her tears slowly wet my shirt. I didn’t care about Keira or Leah in the lounge room, all I cared about was Amelia and making sure she felt safe and comfortable. 

Leah came in a short while later, letting me know she would be staying in the spare room and to yell out if either of us needed anything. As I lay there with Amelia’s head on my chest, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, and mine around hers, the only thing I could think of is how I could get used to this feeling. Selfish I know but it’s the truth. 

By 9pm, the house was completely quiet and dark. Everyone was sleeping or enjoying the peaceful evening. 

As the sun came through Amelia’s bedroom curtains, I felt lighter. Slowly opening my eyes I noticed she wasn’t in the room, the side of the bed she slept in was cold, her phone was gone and her favourite hoodie and wetsuit that hung on the back of her door. She was surfing. Of course. Deciding now was the best time to leave and go back to my own house, I quickly made her bed, opened her bedroom window and got the bottles of water to put in the bin. 

I had forgotten Leah was there, Keira seemingly had come too. 

“Morning capi” Keira handed over coffee. 

“Gracias.” Inhaling the smell of coffee before taking the first sip. 

“Is she awake?” Leah jerked her head towards the door. 

“She’s surfing.” No one said anything for a moment. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see you later.” Turning quickly , before either could stop me. 

I sat in my car contemplating what to do, I thought about messaging Alba, but it was too complicated. Mapi was next, but again, complicated. The only person I truly wanted to talk to was Amelia. But I wasn’t sure if she wanted that. Despite the thoughts telling me to leave her alone, I made my way to the beach. Stopping to get her a coffee so she could have it when she got out. 

Since it was still early, it was easy to park and find her stuff. I made myself comfortable and waited. I didn’t have to wait too long because she had noticed me and started making her way back to the shore. 

“I got you a coffee. Caramel latte right?” I asked as I handed it to her. 

“Thanks Ale.” She sat down, closer to me than usual. 

Silence engulfed us. 

“So Leah’s here huh?” She said more as a question than a statement. 

“Yeah. She came last night. Keira rang her apparently and she got on the first flight.” 

“I don’t know how to do this Ale.” She whispered, I turned to look at her, confused. 

“Do what?” 

“Us. It was easier when I lived in England. I didn’t have to see you everyday, be close to you, listen to you laugh at something Mapi said or watch you with Vicky and Jana. I could watch you from a distance, love you from a distance. But now? Now I’m here and it’s almost too much. It’s so-“ 

“Overwhelming?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I feel the same way.” She rested her head on my shoulder, my arm wrapping around her shoulder. 

We stayed like that for a while. It was nice. But it wouldn’t last. 

[zz0mbi3]

ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ

summary: joel miller headcanons

warnings: slight allusions to spicy stuff, nothing too graphic. ellie's a menace

~now, i'm going to get this out of the way because i know what you fiends came here for

~yes, there's an age gap. nothing too crazy, of course

~definitely grumpy and sunshine vibes, even if you're a grumpy mess too. nothing tops him (especially not in be-)

~he definitely was reluctant at the start when getting to know you. we all know how "amazing" he is as helping others...

tommy: they got a kid, joel-

joel: so do we, keep driving - the incident in question

~nevertheless, and despite what he tries to say, you've grown on him. and maybe the fact that ellie says that you're the coolest person she's met since joel? yeah, he kinda can't get rid of you now

~somehow he has amazing self control with himself

~like there were definitely many times the man was crashing out and was about to do something drastic with you when he had to reign it in and actually think about it

~insanely jealous individual. luckily for him, not too many people to meet nowadays, but whenever you do engage in conversation with someone else, he's right there. ellie has caught him staring at you having a conversation with someone else, eye twitching

~whenever y'all have to squeeze through a small space because i'm sure there are many of those when trying to get away from the clickers, somehow his hands end up on you. not in a sexual way or anything, you just look down at some point and he is GRIPPING your waist to make sure you actually get out of that situation safely

~afterwards, the man has to sit down and just think for a minute. imagine it, just him sitting, hands raised to his chin as he ponders it all

~Mr. Darcy hand flex, think about it now

~if you happen to start walking a little further than he feels comfortable with you going, you're gonna feel one of his fingers curling through the belt loop of your jeans and tugging you back

"nuh, uh, stay here."

~you also have some self control in you, making sure not to be too affectionate right out the gate. you know he has a lot of unresolved trauma to go through (who doesn't in the literal apocalypse) and you don't want to push him to do something he isn't comfortable with or ready for

~there are many times y'all argue, his temper is on a short yet neverending fuse that seems to go out and reflame often. oftentimes he waits for ellie to leave before discussing things with you, and if it gets heated, oh boy

~sometimes, he doesn't think straight and in the middle of arguing you feel his calloused hand wrap around your wrist. not too hard, he doesn't want to hurt you, even if you piss him off sometimes, but enough to know "oh...he's serious".

~although, 99.9% of the time you have to stare at the floor for about 25 seconds to think about it. "oh, so what were we even fighting about?" that kinda stuff

~although he doesn't always show it directly, you can always tell that he cares. like, he's not typically one to look at you in the face and go "i need you to stay safe or else i'm gonna lose it", but somehow you just know.

~there will be days you wake up with an extra sleeping mat stuffed under your head or another warm coat and jacket draped over you that you definitely did not fall asleep with. other times you've gotten back from outside to find a warm drink sitting out for you. (does it taste good? yeah, yk what hell yeah).

~there's definitely been times where your boots have come untied so often while you're walking that before you can even process what's happening, he's retying them, mumbling under his breath about how "it's not that hard to double knot", but you can tell he isn't really mad when he pats your calf afterwards and stands back up

~he always refills your water and food when your rations get low. like you look away from your bottle for one second and he's refilling it with his own water (y'all fought about this for a while)

~surprise you have a teenage daughter now!

~ellie's a menace with you guys, oh my goodness. but at first, she didn't really like you very much. it was nothing against you, but she didn't like that someone else was joining her and joel's life, so it took some warming up to for her to understand that you being there was helping her and joel, and she actually missed your company when you would be away.

~she will follow you guys everywhere with the smuggest look on her face like she did something. always trying to do something stupid so you both end up having to help her and work together. she's also definitely stolen stuff from you guys so you guys have to share

~whenever you have nightmares, it's like he can sense it. and let's be honest, you definitely do have them because those clickers would have me passed out on the ground, dead, deceased. you guys don't get to sleep comfortably often (if at all) so when you're just laying on the ground in a sleeping bag, it's much easier to hear you tossing and turning. he'll wake up almost immediately and watch for a second to make sure it's not just you shifting around before he approaches you. there's a bit of hesitation, but when he sees how you're genuinely struggling, you're gonna end up sleeping against his chest, oh yes you will. he'll definitely wake you up to talk to you about it, and if you aren't willing to share, he's fine with just sitting there and comforting you.

~"i know, i know", when he's comforting you (or talking you through-)

~now when you guys ACTUALLY got together, it was kinda out of nowhere

~it was getting pretty overwhelming for you to keep it hidden (and ellie had been in both of y'alls ears, basically pushing you two closer and closer). so one day, you find yourself sitting with him and you just start rambling

"look, i know i'm young and everything...and i know you don't see me the way that i see you...and it's silly to think that you would or anything, but-"

you're cut off by the look he's giving you, just of pure and utter confusion. he stares for what feels like forever, until he says in a low voice;

"who told you that?" OHHHH MYYYYY

and before you could even get a chance to really respond to the question, BOOM, you're getting kissed

~yeah, when ellie found out she was over the moon, because she thinks she's a genius or something and a wizard and made it all happen (definitely helped)

~now, remember when i said he was jealous? yeah, that gets almost 100x worse when you guys confirm an actual relationship. if looks could kill, everyone would be dead, i swear

~(just letting y'all know, joel does bite. a lot. do with that information what you will)

~he gets pretty pissed off when people say he's too old for you (he's literally not, the age gap ain't that bad guys) and has shouted at someone about it before! (will do it again)

~even before you all were together, i feel like he would help you pack up your supply bags. he wants to make sure you have everything you need, but it's pretty inevitable that you will take something of his almost every time

~when you're not able to sleep, whether it's because of anxiety or you're just not tired, he'll sit with you on his lap and strum the guitar for a bit to get you sleepier

~never let this man shave his face because imagine-

~y'all will be getting the best sleep you can possibly get when you're together. (he wore you out). he's a walking heater and definitely bear hugs you, very clingy

~he's definitely a gentleman most of the time, because you could be walking into an abandoned building and he's holding the door open for you and ellie (she shoved in front of you and laughed)

~he's always checking your temperature, hand pressed against your forehead. he's terrified that you'll get sick one day, that you'll break out into a fever and he won't be able to save you from turning into one of those...things

"you sure you ain't feelin' too hot, baby? i need to know now"

~oh, if you ever got yourself hurt...you're getting a mix of scolding and genuine worry as he fixes you up. it's one of the few times you've almost seen him cry believe it or not

~but yes, he does bite, again, i will say this again

[crazyk-imagine]

Small Talk and the Worst Ones

Pairing: Worst!logan howlett x Fem!reader

Characters: Worst!logan howlett, Fem!reader, Ellie "Negasonic Teenage Warhead", Yukio, Dogpool, Colossus

Warnings: Fluff, minor angst, reader has a sad backstory, worst!Logan knows the reader, wade is an idiot, wade is his own warning, wade fourth walling, you bet madonna is playing again, Colossus is the xmen movie version, wade is still bitter about not becoming an avenger, logan is a good man here, saving lives here people, move it or lose it

Word Count: 2.1k

Found this, it screams Wade

*will be edited at a later time

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You enter the mansion and head into the kitchen, looking for your favorite emergency kit Wade stole. “Where’s Wade?” You call out.

“Somewhere disappointing Jesus,” Ellie comments.

His detectable fake laughter comes from the hallway. “You can’t disappoint what you are, it’s what you have.”

You furrow your brows. “You make no sense, Wade.” The corner of your lips twitch as you hide your wound.

“I don’t have to make sense for the readers to like me. They’re my true fans, they get me. Isn’t that right guys?” He turns, staring into the abyss.

You place your hand on the counter, lowering your head for a moment; not wanting anyone to see your pain.

“Is he okay?” You ask, pretending your stab wound doesn’t hurt.

“When is he ever okay?” She says before groaning as dogpool tries to lick her face.

Yuki giggles at her girlfriend's displeasure, finding it cute.

“Fair enough, stupid question on my part.” You shrug.

‘Bad idea.’ You don’t know how much longer you can stay here.

“You know, you’re all going to hell for making fun of Marvel Jesus.”

“Go stick your dick in your unicorn, Wade,” you hiss at him.

“My, my, my, such foul language coming from a x-force member who’s barely legal.”

“What kind of legal are you talking about? Because in my mind, you’re screaming racist burnt tortilla.”

“You see the kind of shit the author’s putting me through-”

You reach down, ignoring the pain and reach down for your favorite item.

“-the nerve of this-” He stops talking at the baby knife sticking out of his shoulder. “Motherf-”

"Nice hit,” Ellie tells you before setting dogpool on Yuki’s lap.

“Thanks, I had to do it before Colossus came down.”

“What is this I hear of hitting?”

As tall as he is, the man has the quietest footsteps, how? You’ll never know. “Nothing,” you blow a breath of air past your lips.

The others chime in before he could give you a lecture.

“Everyone, quiet.”

“Colossal tower,” Wade leans against the tall man, running his fingers up his chest before Colossus removes his hand. “She hit me,” he sticks his bottom lip out. “Heal me with the chromey goodness.” He starts to sink down to his knees.

You grab the kit and walk out of the kitchen, barely making it to the stairs as your vision blackens.

You shake your head, thinking you're dizzy but you know you’re going down.

-

Logan enters, setting the small stack of logs by the fireplace for the night when the scent of blood raises the hairs on his arms. He can hear the others bickering in the kitchen, your shampoo mixes with the blood.

He exits the living room and searches for you, following the scent as he goes.

He turns and finds you sprawled against the bottom of the stairs; the hand you must have been using to keep pressure, sticky from your blood and the kit beside you.

He bends down to pick you up but your mutation stops him. He groans as the waves hit him and pulls back.

He reaches closer to you, “don’t fight me, bub,” he mumbles. “You need to get help.”

The screams echo faintly in the back of his head. He isn’t going to lose another member, whether you like him or not.

He grunts at the pushing of your energetic waves and picks you up. As he balances himself, he finds himself able to breathe again.

-

He barges into the kitchen, everyone stops at the sight. “Is someone gonna help her or not?”

Wade pushes himself off the steel man and runs past Logan before popping his head into the kitchen, “are you gonna follow me or not, peanut?”

Logan growls at his words as everyone follows him.

“What- what are we going to be able to do?” Yuki asks, worried about you.

Wade opens the kit, searching for the right material, “aha!”

“You’re going to fix her up?” Logan asks.

“I don’t know who else is qualified to do this? The doc’s out right now trying to find more people to ally with right now.”

“You barely walk around here without fondling-”

“If one more word comes right out of that mouth that belts out glorious eargasming songs, I will kick you right out this door right now.”

-

You hear them giggling.

-

“Wade, what the hell is happening?” Logan asks.

Colossus tries to hold you down to keep you from squirming but fails as you use your mutation on him. He pulls away, falling to the floor, his arm reverting back to its human state.

-

You don’t know where to turn.

-

“I’ll go get the-”

“No,” Logan snaps at Ellie. He reaches for you and holds you in place, giving Wade enough time to finish.

-

You look around and find yourself back at home, the place you grew up; and where it all ended.

The giggles from your family echoing throughout the neighborhood.

The red pooling out the front door sent chills down your spine.

The giggles pick up.

-

“Wade, she’s losing blood,” Ellie tells him as she tries to put pressure on your wound.

“I- fuck- I know.”

“Use my blood,” Logan tells him as he feels a little more in control. You’re not fighting him as much.

“We don’t- we can’t.”

“And, why not?” The animalistic man puffs his chest, hating Yukio’s words.

“We don’t know what it can do to her,” Wade informs him. “We don’t- we don’t-”

Ellie huffs, interrupting the merc. “We don’t know if it’ll kill her or not.”

“It will work,” Colossus adds.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you came back when it was convenient for the plot.”

“Wade,” the tall man critiques him.

“What? I’m just saying we haven’t heard from you in the last ten minutes-”

“It was barely two,” Ellie comments.

“Fine, for the last TwO minutes, we thought you were dead.”

“I didn’t,” Yukio says.

“Okay fine, fine, my little princess Yukio is right. I was the only one who thought you were dead. I admit it.”

“Can you shut the fuck up for once?”

The merc turns to Logan, “no unless you show me those greasy tits so I can-”

“Wade!”

“What?” He snaps at Colosuss.

“Go to the kitchen and get a water.”

“But-”

“Now.”

“Fine,” he groans. “But I will be back.”

“You say it’ll work?”

The taller man nods.

“How did you know?” Logan asks, staring at you as the color returns to your pale cheeks.

“You did it before.”

“What?”

“The other you, this- how did you say- this timeline’s Wolverine, saved her before.” He pauses.

“And? You seem like you're holding back the last few pages of the story there, bub.”

“That is how she got her regenerative ability to become faster and she,” he stares at the ground.

“She what? Just finish the f-”

“She doesn’t know. He asked us not to tell her and the professor thought it was wise to protect her if we didn’t mention it again. She never asked anyone after.”

-

You can’t breathe, unable to catch your breath.

“Nobody is coming to save you."

"Get up.”

You can hear her. “Get up.”

You can’t move. “Move dammit!”

When you call my name it’s like a little prayer

You curse to yourself staring up at the dark, starry sky. The last time you saw the sky like this was when you saved- he calls out your name.

You push yourself off the ground, arms shaking as you do so; tears sliding down your cheeks and off the tip of your nose.

Down on my knees

You push yourself up, staring at- “Charles?” You call out. “I thought-”

He nods, “we are in your memory. You’re fighting with yourself and I’m afraid you may lose.”

“Why are we- why am I back here?”

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

You weakly nod. “I feel the same as I did that night.”

“Your mind is taking you back to when you felt your weakest.”

“Why?” You wheeze, the fire smoke filling your lungs. It’s getting harder to breathe.

I’m gonna take you there

“You must fight.”

“I can’t.”

He nods, “you can. You saved us that night. Protected the students, other mutants you didn’t know or why they were there.”

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” you cough. “I couldn’t tell who-”

“You saved them, they needed you then. And they need you now. The group who attacked you is coming... for you.”

You can’t breathe, everything hurts; it’s like a thousand knives have been struck in you.

“Go back and fight.”

-

“You’ve got guts, kid.”

You remember how Logan almost smiled at you.

“Says you, old man. I bet that busted your balls for the next decade.” He huffs, not wanting to laugh.

That was the start of your almost friendship.

-

“I need to get Jean flowers.”

You huff, “Scott-”

“Please, you’re the only one who can tolerate me.”

“Go cry to Ororo. I have a class to teach.”

“But-”

“She’s right behind you.”

“Scott, I got your flowers,” Jean interrupts.

“Oh, well. I’m- I’m glad you like them.”

-

“I can’t do it.”

“Jean,” you sigh.

“It’s too much. I can feel-”

“Stop letting it control you.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“I am one with the waves, if I let it control me, I’d be dead.” You close your eyes and feel her energy. “Breath Jean,” you tell her telepathically. “It’s okay. I won’t let you go far.”

-

“Oro, bring a little lightening.”

She scoffs, “no.”

You pout, “c’mon. I need a cool photo.”

“For who? Your boyfriend?”

You scoff, “no for my wall duh. I have an empty spot I need to fill.”

She rolls her eyes, “go ahead.”

“You’re the best!”

-

You run, knowing exactly where you need to go.

You look over your shoulder and see everyone smiling. Scott, Jean, Ororo, Hank, Charles, Jubilee, Alex, all your friends, including your timelines Logan.

You don’t know how it happened.

-

You slowly open your eyes, owlishly blinking at the seemingly bright lights.

You take off the tube connecting the bag of blood to your arm, not caring at the mess as your small wound closes.

The side door is ripped off the wall as Wade crashes onto the ground, the corner sticking out of his side.

“He hath risen, baby boy, thank fuck.” He rips the piece of door out of his side and stands up. “I don’t think you should be fighting right now tho, Siren.”

You close your eyes, the fighting dies down; your eyes snap open, “my names not Siren, you burnt tortilla. I have friends who need my help and not your inappropriate gender blindness.”

He shrieks, covering his mask covered mouth. “Oh my god.”

He turns away and runs towards a tree, “she’s gonna do it. You nerds better pull out those hidden teddy cams because this is gonna be epic and a kickass montage.”

He shoves it away and rushes back to you.

You close your eyes, harnessing the energy from the earth and the emotions to expand your shield.

In the midnight hour, I can feel your power

You expand your arms as everyone stops fighting. You grit your teeth at the intensity bubbling inside you.

You take a deep breath.

“No one’s going to save you.”

The words became your battle cry.

If no one was going to save you-

“I will,” you whisper as you open your eyes.

- You would save yourself and all your friends.

You focus on the energy of the men trying to take you all, using it to feed your shield.

Logan remembers that look.

His timeline’s variant of you had that same look, before she- “No,” he whispers.

You and he hadn’t been friends then but he knew the impact of your death hurt a lot of people.

-

Ellie grabs Yukio and pulls her close as Colossus blocks the two.

-

He grabs you, pulling you in before you could step out.

At the surprise, you let go and take down everyone on the enemy team.

You take a deep breath.

“Well this wasn’t in the original plot,” Wade mumbles as he’s shoved to the side.

“Um,” you mumble. “You can let go now.”

Logan realizes how he’s holding you and pulls back, not fully removing himself from you as his hand stays on your hip. “You were gonna do it, weren’t you?”

“Do what?” You ask him.

“Sacrifice yourself to ensure everyone here and the school would be here,” he hisses, getting in your face.

“I- no,” you scoff.

“You were and you don’t know how many people would grieve over you.”

You furrow your brows, “I doubt it.”

“I’ve seen it before.”

Wade leans in closer to the other three, “is anyone else popping a-”

“Wade!”

“What? I’m lonely.”

“Gross,” Ellie shivers in disgust.

“How’d you know?” You ask him, ignoring Wade as he traumatizes the poor girls.

“I know a sacrifice when I see one.”

“Alright,” Wade taps his shoulder. “If we’re done listening to Madonna, can we clean up?”

“Wade, they’re gone.”

He turns around and sprints in the other direction. “Holy-” To the other side. “What the-” He runs back to you. “When did those little jazz fingers get so deathy?”

You owlishly blink at him. “When I didn’t want to die.”

He nods, “fair enough. Let’s go be like the newer cooler Avengers and get some shawarma.” 

[lalalasocks]

Something reminded me of a couple old fanfictions I loved and I’ve been searching for them for like an hour now. I want to reread them and I can’t find them

[jackett-slut]

ok sorry if this sounds fucking insane. i need to write something out.

[phagodyke]

venting sorry... don't want to just delete it bc it helps to get it out just ignore this post pls 👍

haven't slept much at all and feeling so sick andstressed and in pain bc my period is due and so tired its making me dizzy but i cant sleep more or ill just feel more sick and I want a hug and to cry so hard into someones shoulder but no one cares or will even come near me it makes me feel diseased they think things about me that aren't true bc I struggle so much to communicate and thry all make assumptions insteqd and no one wants to give me space to talk to them about it so I cant undo that now and its all my fault and I'm so. exhausted :-(

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

i swear i have a 'what if this kills me' thought at least once a week and i do a quick vibe check of my life to see if i need to do anything else first. weirdly enough it's actually kind of helpful. yeah i should check in with this person first, i need to drop this grudge first, i should move past this first, i wouldn't be happy with xyz so i should fix that first, etc. it sort of helps me keep my life in order

[britneyshakespeare]

the more time goes by the more i'm like yeah... cymbeline might be my favorite shakespeare play

[genderqueerdykes]

if you are a trans boy, especially a teenage trans boy, i wanted to say that as a trans man in their 30's, you have my deepest respects and condolences for what you may be going through right now.

it has become socially acceptable and basically online custom to bully teenage trans boys & mascs, call them cringy, or excuse misgendering them for whatever reason. people put trans boys on this pedestal of "must perform masculinity and manhood to cartoonish degrees" even though they're still children.

people make trans boys fight for their manhood before they can even be boys. i am sorry people can be so judgmental and harsh on you. you are not wrong for wanting to be a boy. you are experiencing something wonderful. it's okay if you still want to be a boy even if people have treated you poorly, or tried to make you feel bad for being a boy. there is nothing wrong with being a boy.

it's okay if you never socially transition. it's okay if you're afraid to come out because it's not safe. it's okay if you never change your outward appearance. it's okay if you try very hard to pass but struggle to. it's okay if you wear "women's" clothing and shoes, bras, makeup, etc., it's okay if you're gay and love other men. it's okay if you're scared of hrt. it's okay if you don't want surgery. it's okay if you mainly occupy girl's spaces still. people will find every reason to pick these things apart and ridicule trans boys for, but they are all perfectly fine experiences that do not make you any less of a boy. you are the one who is in control of your transition, presentation, and state of being- you should be able to prioritize your safety over the comfort of random strangers who have no impact over how you live your life.

i've been put through this too, but later in life as i came out when i was an adult. people still try to make me feel bad for identifying as a trans man, for whatever reason they have in their head to justify hatred of a trans person. i've had enough. there will never be an excuse for how people try to excuse the infantilization and abuse that trans men and trans boys face.

take care of yourselves, no matter what age you are, if you are a trans boy, man, or masc you deserve to know that other trans men care about you, especially when people are scrambling to find ways to punch down on you. there are people who suck, but there are also a lot of people who care about you. keep your chin up. you know who you are

[silverselfshippingchaos]

I just know that Ash pulling one of these would drive S.eifer nuts in the best way possible

[sheila--e]

the way Sheila's described as both being covered in scars and also being a very self destructive person with little care for herself and a desire to die for a good cause (or a very long way of saying she's got suicidal tendencies yet masks it as a form of courage) makes me think she self harms. it wouldn't be out of this world tbh. coping mechanism adopted from her self hatred and a need of punishing herself for being a horrible person. she doesn't know where to put all of those chaotic feelings, and the only way she can redirect it is to herself. not out of character frankly.

[cheriecoke]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LOOK, MOM! — nanami kento

yuuji accidentally calls you mom

contents: nanami x fem!reader, husband nanami hehe, this is very silly and random and stupid, fluff, nanami & reader are yuuji's adoptive parents fr, words: 1059

“nanamin!” yuuji waves at the figure approaching from behind you, a flashy grin appearing on his face as he glances at the blonde man over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you were coming by today!”

kento's hair sweeps over his forehead in the wind, a few strands coming free as he heads towards you. it's a brisk day, and he has two hot coffees in his hands that he'd picked up after his mission.

a bead of sweat drips down yuuji's temple, and he wipes it with his sleeve, still breathing heavily. you'd spent the last hour training together, pushing his physical capabilities. gojo had been busy recently, between all the missions and his conversations with the higher ups.

so, of course, you'd volunteered to teach the newest student when he couldn't. quickly, he became your favorite of the three first years.

“i’m in between assignments.” kento hands you the coffee, places a gentle hand on your lower back with a smile that is hardly there. “mind if i steal my wife away for a bit?”

yuuji shrugs, his face still bright as he glances between the two of you. ever since he’d found out two of his favorite sorcerers were together, he’d hardly shut up about it.

“no problem. i’m going to meet up with fushiguro anyway.” he brushes the dirt off his pants, waving to the two of you.

“good job today, yuuji!” grateful for something to warm you up in the chilly air, you take a sip of the coffee. it’s perfect, as always, just what you needed. “you’re improving a lot!”

he grins, proud of his accomplishments. “thanks, mom! see you later!”

there's an elongated moment of silence.

you choke on your coffee as kento stiffens beside you, watching while yuuji comes to a skittering halt.

all three of you freeze. you cough, clearing your throat, and kento's hand, steady on your back, has stilled. “yuuji—“

“oh,” the teenager says, his face turning bright red as he realizes what he’s called you. he glances between the two of you, embarrassment evident. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—“

though, you don’t give yuuji enough time to protest. within seconds, you’ve gathered him up in your arms, squeezing the younger boy to your chest. “kento, we have a son!”

you feel yuuji tense, before he relaxes, and throws his arms around you in an even tighter hug. there’s some sort of thanks resting there. he laughs, carefree, a sound you never want to be taken away from the boy who manages to shine so brightly in such a dark world.

kento stares at you, folds his glasses up in his pocket, as if to show you both how unimpressed he is. “do we?” he asks, lips flat, though, you see through the facade to the amusement hidden in his irises. “i'm certain i would’ve remembered something like that.”

you make a face at him, covering yuuji’s ears dramatically. “oh, don’t listen to your dad, yuuji. he’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

kento blinks, and then sighs, wrinkling his nose. though, when he sees yuuji’s wide grin, his eager expression, he decides to play along.

“well, then... there must be a lapse in my memory." kento crosses his arms over his chest as he regards the two of your extensively, searching for something. "that would certainly explain the striking resemblance between us.” he says drily.

yuuji laughs, a loud snort. he looks nothing like either of you, but you’re not sure he’s ever gotten to witness kento's sarcastic sense of humor, the one that not everyone really gets.

“exactly!” yuuji quips back to kento’s blank expression. "everyone tells me i have the same smile as my dad!

kento’s trying hard not to let yuuji win that one, but you can see the slight wrinkle around his eye, the tiny quirk of his lips. beside the pink haired boy, you choke out a few giggles, covering your mouth.

“yes," kento nods, solemn. "i’ve heard that as well.”

"so you do know how to make jokes, nanamin!" yuuji shouts, nearly jumping in the air as he cheers. "i can't wait to tell fushiguro this."

kento rolls his eyes, but yuuji’s so pleased, and he releases you, his eyes soft and bright as he pulls away.

though he doesn’t say it, doesn't thank you for anything, you can tell he’s grateful. itadori yuuji may be happy with his life as it is now, may have found a home within the friends he’s made at the high school, but you know he misses his grandfather. sometimes, perhaps, he even longs for the conventional family he never really got to have.

you ruffle his hair, the pink strands catching between the cracks of your fingers. “tell him i said hello too.”

yuuji nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he steps away. “i will!” his cheerful gaze is pinned on your husband, a secretive smile making a home on his lips. “bye, dad.”

kento shakes his head, and sighs again, though you can tell, a part of him is touched to have won so much of yuuji's admiration. “have a good evening, itadori.”

you watch the young boy scurry away, hands in his pockets as he braces himself against the cold.

"you should be nicer to your son, kento."

kento snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him. "i am nice to him," he says, kissing your temple softly. "a little hard on him, maybe, but i just don't want anything bad to happen to him."

you soften, look up at him with warm eyes, and you squeeze the hand that is resting on your shoulder. "i know," you say, your heart clenching. you've thought about it before, thought of kento with a tiny child that looks just like him, cradled against his chest. thought of him with a little girl whose hair he can braid, a little boy he can raise to be a gentleman.

but you hadn't talked about it; you'd always thought your life was too busy, too dangerous for children.

"you'd make a good dad, ken," you say, your cheeks flushed as you grin at him.

kento's eyes flash. "really?" an array of emotions scurries across his features before he leans down, kissing you softly. "is this your way of telling me you want a baby, sweetheart?" his voice deepens as he whispers against your lips, smiling. "because i'm more than happy to give you one."