#tile drill bit

[toolacademy]

🔩 Best Drill Speed for Porcelain Tile – Expert Tips for Precision & Safety

Porcelain tiles are a popular choice for modern interiors due to their strength, durability, and sleek look. However, drilling through porcelain requires precision, patience, and the correct speed to avoid cracks or damage. If you're asking, “What is the best drill speed for porcelain tile?” — you’re in the right place! 🧠🔧

🧱 Why Porcelain Is Tricky to Drill Through

Porcelain is denser and less porous than ceramic, making it harder to penetrate. Its hardness often ranges around 7–8 on the Mohs scale. That means standard drill bits and methods won't cut it (literally!).

Common challenges include:

Cracking or chipping the tile

Overheating the drill bit

Slipping on the glazed surface

Dulling your tools

⏱️ What’s the Best Drill Speed for Porcelain Tile?

💡 Optimal Drill Speed: 100 to 200 RPM

ToolDrill Speed (RPM)Diamond core bit100–200 RPMCarbide-tipped bit150–300 RPM (not ideal for thick porcelain)Wet saw drill bits100–200 RPM

Why slower is better: High speed causes friction and heat, which can crack the tile or destroy your bit. A slow, controlled RPM gives you the leverage needed to gradually grind through porcelain without breakage.

🔨 Recommended Drill Types for Porcelain Tile

1. Diamond-Tipped Hole Saw (Best Choice!)

Specifically designed for hard materials.

Often includes a wax core or water cooling.

Perfect for larger diameter holes (e.g., for pipes).

2. Spear-Point Carbide Bit

Usable for small holes.

Not as long-lasting as diamond bits for porcelain.

Can be used if you're on a tight budget.

3. Wet Core Drill Bits

Keeps temperature low with water.

Ideal for large or repetitive drilling jobs.

🛠️ Step-by-Step Guide to Drilling Porcelain Tiles

Step 1: Gather Your Tools

Diamond drill bit

Variable-speed drill

Water spray bottle or sponge

Painter’s tape or guide jig

Safety goggles and gloves

Step 2: Mark Your Spot

Use painter’s tape to mark the drilling point. It helps prevent the bit from slipping and chipping the surface.

Step 3: Drill at an Angle (Optional)

Start at a 45-degree angle to create a grip, then slowly straighten to 90 degrees as the bit bites into the tile.

Step 4: Keep It Cool

Use a wet sponge or spray bottle to cool down the drill bit continuously. Water reduces friction and increases bit lifespan.

Step 5: Go Slow and Steady

Use minimal pressure and low speed (100–200 RPM). Let the bit do the work — don’t force it.

📦 Pro Tips for a Clean, Crack-Free Hole

✅ Use a guide plate: Helps stabilize the bit. ✅ Avoid hammer drills: The hammering function will likely crack your tile. ✅ Clamp or secure the tile: Prevents movement, especially for loose tiles. ✅ Drill before installation: Whenever possible, drill tiles before adhering them to the wall or floor.

⚠️ Common Mistakes to Avoid

🚫 Using high-speed drill settings 🚫 Skipping water cooling 🚫 Applying too much pressure 🚫 Starting with cheap, multi-purpose drill bits

🔍 Key Takeaways

Drill Speed: 100–200 RPM is ideal for porcelain.

Best Tool: Use a diamond-tipped bit.

Technique: Go slow, use water, avoid hammering.

Result: Clean hole with no cracks or chips.

❓FAQs: Drilling Through Porcelain Tile

1. Can I use a regular drill on porcelain tiles?

Yes, but only if the drill has variable speed settings. Avoid using it at high speed or with the hammer function.

2. What happens if I drill too fast?

You risk overheating the bit, cracking the tile, or ruining the hole shape. Always drill slowly with water cooling.

3. Can I drill a tile that’s already installed?

Yes, but use extreme caution to avoid damaging the backing surface or causing the tile to shift or crack.

4. How do I avoid slipping while drilling?

Use painter’s tape or a drill guide to help keep the bit from sliding on the smooth tile surface.

5. What’s the best drill bit brand for porcelain tiles?

Brands like Bosch, QEP, and DryCut offer highly rated diamond-tipped bits suitable for porcelain tiles.

🎯 Conclusion

Drilling through porcelain tile doesn’t have to be nerve-wracking. With the right tools, technique, and most importantly — the correct drill speed of 100 to 200 RPM — you’ll achieve clean, professional-looking holes with zero cracks.

Whether you're hanging bathroom accessories or plumbing through a wall tile, precision and patience go a long way. Now that you’re equipped with expert advice, it’s time to take on that tile! 💪🛠️

[getadvanceinfo]

We are not here merely to incite intrigue, but to offer enlightenment as well. So, today, we delve deeper into the fascinating world of long series drill bits. We aim to provide essential knowledge, present useful insights, aid in comprehending why they're a must-have for every DIY enthusiast, and guide you to pick the top-quality versions in the market.

[ultrawhalnar]

Rewatching the ds9 episode where Sisko builds the ancient Bajoran spaceship and it really is THE prime example that this man belongs in a Lowe's. Unfortunately he keeps getting dragged into Political Intrigue but his soul longs to be comparing different samples of ceramic tile and going "very nice very nice." He should be weighing the pros and cons of getting a green egg smoker or an offset smoker, with a bunch of random 2x4s and drill bits and a fire pit already in his cart, while Jake stands off to the side bored out of his mind like "DAD WE DIDN'T EVEN COME HERE FOR A GRILL." And Sisko is like "well it doesn't hurt to look son. I might wanna come back for this later"

[gunnerfc]

Steamy | Alexia Putellas x Reader (18+) 

Summary: You and Alexia make use of the empty locker room after a training session

Warnings: smut minors DNI!, shower sex, semi-public? (team locker room shower), fingering (r receiving)

WC: 1.2K

You huffed, trying to catch your breath from the amount of running you had done during training. With a Champion’s League match coming up, training had been more intense to get the team ready. You were thankful that the training staff called it a day and dismissed everyone back to the locker rooms. 

“Bebé,” Alexia’s voice interrupted your thoughts of a relaxing, warm shower that would help your sore muscles. 

You paused in your tracks, the rest of your teammates continuing their journey to the locker room. “Hmm,” you hummed as you turned to face her. 

“Let’s do some one-on-one,” she smiled as she passed you a ball. Part of you wanted to say no, knowing you wouldn’t be the best opponent at the moment. But you sent her a small smile and made your way back onto the training pitch.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you were out there running through various drills, but when you missed an easy shot, you called it for a day. “Alexia,” you panted with your hands on your hips. “I think we should call it.” 

“Sí,” the blonde nodded as she mimicked your panting. You let out a breath as you both made your way back to the locker room, your hands grazing each other each time they swung past each other.

By the time you got to the locker room, it was empty. You must have been out there longer than you thought, considering all of your teammates had already showered and left. You were so focused on taking a warm shower that you zoned out, forgetting that Alexia was still also in the room.

The midfielder took her time taking her boots off, waiting for you to enter the showers so she could join you. Alexia waited a moment after hearing the water turn on, giving you time to get the water to the perfect temperature. 

You stood with a towel wrapped around your body as the water warmed up, occasionally sticking your hand under to feel the temperature. Once it was warm enough, you hung the towel up and stepped inside. You groaned softly as the warm water hit your skin, your muscles tight from the harsh training you’d done over the past few days. You were too in your head to notice Alexia’s presence as she pulled back the shower curtain. 

Her hands slipped around your waist, earning a small gasp from your lips. “You can’t scare me like that,” you whined, your head falling back on her shoulder. 

Alexia laughed softly, her lips grazing your earlobe. “Sorry,” she teased as she pulled you closer to her body. 

“What are you even doing in here,” the realization of where you were kicked in as you pulled away from her to turn and face her.

“We’re the only two here, bebé,” the blonde smirked, her hands slipping around your waist once more. 

You swallowed softly, your chest rising as the water fell over both of you. Neither of you spoke for a moment, too busy taking each other in. After a minute of silence, you pulled Alexia into a desperate kiss. 

She easily won control over you, her hands running over any inch of skin she could reach as her lips moved against yours. You moaned into the kiss, your hands locking around her neck as you pressed your body into hers. 

Alexia, with her lips still interlocked with yours, guided you back against the shower wall. Your back arched off the cool tile, your chest bumping hers. Alexia bit your bottom lip before pulling away, a sly grin gracing her lips. 

“You can be as loud as you are at home,” she mumbled as she leaned into your neck to leave harsh kisses along your neck.

“Ale– please,” you whined as you tilted your head back against the tile. You tried to hold in a moan, still worried someone might enter the shower area. But as Alexia slipped a hand between your parted thighs, the moan fell from your lips loudly. 

Alexia smirked against your neck as she left hickies all over your skin. Her hand slowly ran through your folds, teasing you to see how loud you would get. “Please what,” she mumbled as she tightened the hold her arm had on your waist. 

You whined at her words, desperate for her to give you what you wanted. “Stop teasing me,” you cried, your hands digging into her shoulders. 

Alexia laughed softly but opted to give in, her fingers circled your clit a few times, earning broken moans from your lips. Her fingers slipped back down until they pushed into you, slipping in easily. 

Alexia moved her fingers antagonizing slowly, her thumb rubbing small circles on your clit with each thrust of her fingers. “F-fuck, baby,” you whined, much louder this time as the last bit of worry left your body. 

The blonde’s fingers sped up as she let go of your waist to hoist your leg around her waist. Her fingers slipped deeper with the new angle, earning a loud string of moans from your lips. “Good, babé,” Alexia asked, despite knowing the answer. 

You nodded quickly, your eyes screwed shut as your hips bucked against her hand. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you settled for the nods. You could feel the familiar coil in your lower stomach begin to break as your hips rolled in time with her fingers’ thrusts. 

“I’m – fuck – close,” you cried, your nails digging even harder into her shoulder blades. Alexia sped her fingers up, splashing the slightly colder water that was hitting your bodies with each thrust. 

“C’mon, mi amor,” Alexia teased as she pulled away from your neck to watch your expression as you came around her fingers. You let out broken moans as you came, your thighs shaking as you did so. 

Alexia slowed her fingers down, letting you ride out your orgasm until she pulled them out of you completely. You whimpered from the empty feeling as she moved your leg from around her waist. You stayed leaning against the wall, your legs too shaky for you to stand without support. 

“That wasn’t a productive shower,” you mumbled in between breaths. You opened your eyes to see Alexia smirking at you. 

“I think it was,” she shrugged, earning an eye roll from you. You both giggled after a moment and stood under the flowing water in silence. 

You went to speak, but a third voice from the door of the shower room cut you off. “Time to head home, guys,” the voice called before the door closed. 

Your eyes widened in shock hearing the voice which earned you a laugh from Alexia. You stuttered, trying to get a sentence out. 

“C’mon, you heard him,” Alexia teased as she turned the water off and opened the shower curtain to wrap a towel around her body.

You felt your skin heat up, worried that a staff member just overheard you as you had an orgasm. 

“Are you coming… again,” Alexia joked as she held the towel out for you, a cheeky grin on her face.

“Enough,” you grumbled as you yanked the towel out of her hands to wrap around your body. 

Alexia laughed as you stormed past her to head back into the locker room to get dressed. You know the odds of the staff member hearing the whole thing were slim, but that doesn’t mean you weren't thinking about the possibility of him hearing. Alexia spent the rest of the evening teasing you, saying things like he didn’t even need to be in the room to hear with how loud you were. Safe to say she got the silent treatment for the rest of the night.

[writers-potion]

Let's Scare Your Readers!

Combine the techniques below with the techniques for building suspense to give your readers a palm-sweating sensation!

Darkness

If absolute darkness doesn't make sense in your story, aim for semi-darkness: dusk, a single lantern/candle, heavily curtained windows, a thick canopy of trees, etc. Flickering lights that create confusing shadows can also be effective.

Let the darkness pool gradually around your MC. Show the night or fog rolling in, the camp-fire subsiding, or the candles burn down one by one.

Examples:

The candle sputtered. The light wavered.

The lamp cast its smoky light on the brick walls.

The night was silent, but for the dry rustling of leaves as the wind whispered through the trees.

Sound

Of all the senses, the sense of hearing serves best to create excitement and fear.

the clacking of the villain's boots on the floor tiles, the ticking of the wall clock, a dog barking outside, the roaring of a distant motor, a door slamming somewhere in the house, water dripping from the ceiling, the chair squeaking, the whine of the dentist's drill, the scraping of the knife on a whetstone, a faraway siren wailing the heroine's own heartbeat thudding in her ears.

When the surroundings are dark, your MC will grow to be more aware of the surrounding noise, even if it's not relevant to the plot.

Chill

Make it uncomfortably cold for the MC, and your readers will shiver with them.

powercut cutting off the heating, nightfall naturally bringing in lower temperatures.

winter, evening, a cool breeze that chills everything, survivors running our of fuel, the ceiling fan is over-active, stone builindg/caves/sbuterranean chambers tend to be cold.

Describe how the cold pinpricks the MC's skin, stunting their thinking and making them shiver.

The opposite can also be effective: turn up the temperature using a stove, an overheated motor, or the sweltering sun to make the MC sweat.

Isolation

This is a common technique: let the MC face the monster alone with no external help. It's also easier to limit the resources and escape routes available for the MC.

an abandoned factory, remote mountaintop, the depth of an unexplored cave.

It can also be more everyday locations: a construction site, the sewer, a malfunctioning bathroom.

Meet the Monster

When describing the threat, spread out your descriptions so that (1) the scene has constant action (2) you have material to build up later.

Good details to show:

hands, fingers, nails, talons, claws

the sound of the voice, growl, roar

the smile, teeth

the texture of skin, fur, scales.

Get Visceral

Never tell your readers that the MC is scared. Describe the fright using these physical effects:

the skin crawling, breath stalling, scalp pricking, clenching of the chest, stomach curling, heart thudding, sweat tricking down, clogged throat, pulse in the ears, cold sweat, chills up/down the spine, stomach knotting, breathless, etc.

The Gory Bits

Instead of describing everything, limit yourself to particular details, keeping overall description short. Non-stop gore doesn't shock - its bores.

Create a contrast: the child's mutilated corpse still clutches the doll. The brains from the baby's plt skull spill across the fluffy pink blanket.

Use similes, comparing gruesome buts to something from ordinary life. The intestines look like spaghetti in tomato sauce. The blood spilling from the mouth looks like lipstick.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

💎For early access to my content,  become a Writing Wizard 

[moth-murdock]

Sick day (Matt Murdock x AFAB!reader)

masterlist

A/n:OKAY HOLY SHIT MY FIRST TIME WRITING IDK HOW TO FORMAT SHIT BUT HERE WE GO

Genre: period comfort

Summary: period cramps are a bitch. Good thing your boyfriend isn't :)

Warnings: AFAB!Reader, kinda detailed talk about periods and cramps (which shouldn't have to be a warning but yk)

Other tags: fluff, comfort, domestic Matthew Murdock (save me), mentions of fainting, mentions of PCOS, reader is in Spain without the s, not proofread we die like men, written entirely on Tumblr Mobile.

if anyone asked you how you were feeling, the answer would be Yucky™️. You were on your period, second day to be exact. Your lovely boyfriend was at Mass, as you had declined going due to not feeling well. So you sat at home, waiting for your Naproxen to kick in and save your ass. So you figured, since you're waiting anyway, why not take a shower?

The hot water cascades out of the showerhead, filling the bathroom with steam, warming up your aching body, and washing away the crime scene between your legs to stain the water red. The thing is, your cramps didn't stop with the heat. They didn't even lessen. You weren't alarmed, as cramps didn't give a shit about you. The moment you started to panic was when your Naproxen seemed to have exited the chat, and your cramps started getting worse.

You try your best to push through, just gritting your teeth and continuing to wash your body despite how badly you wanted to rip the wretched organ out with your bare hands. But when you start feeling that familiar light-headedness, you stopped immediately and carefully sat down on the cold tile floor. Because where there's lightheadedness, there's usually fainting. You knew the drill, having been going through this since you were about 15 years old.

The first time it happened, it was the middle of the night. You had woken up with what you thought was nausea, only to end up collapsing the moment you step foot in the bathroom. After a few doctors visits and an ultrasound, you are told that it wasn't PCOS, but rather just a vasovagal response. While other people's brains decided to shut down at the sight of blood, yours decided to shut down when your cramps got too bad.

After waiting for the lightheadedness to pass, you turn off the shower water and step out. It still feels like something is trying to punch it's way out if your uterus, and you barely manage to get some underwear and a pad on before curling up into the silk sheets of your boyfriends bed and crying. You don't know how long you stay there, but before you know it, Matt is home.

Normally, the sight of you almost naked, whimpering and writhing bed, would be enough to make him pop a boner immediately. But this is different. Your cries aren't pleasured, they're pained. And the room smells metallic. Just barely there, but he can smell it.

"Angel?" He asks softly "are you alright?"

"mmfff... h-hurts, baby..." you whine, eyes screwed shut tightly as you wallow.

It doesn't take him long to deduce the situation, and he wordlessly goes to your dresser and pulls out your comfiest shirt and sweats. He dresses you slowly and with utmost care, knowing the discomfort you're experiencing. After that, he retreats to the bathroom for a few moments. You hear his footsteps as he returns, then you feel the bed dip behind you before you are being rolled toward him and onto your back.

"work with me, Angel... I know it hurts... Just give me a second..." He says softly between your whines and protests.

He gently pets your hair and shushes you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he pulls your shirt up a bit to expose your stomach. He then proceeds to place a towel that's wet with something on your stomach. You shiver at the contact, as the towel is cold.

"Rubbing alcohol..." he murmurs in explanation before your stomach suddenly heats up

"and a heating pad." He finishes, pulling your shirt back down.

"thank you, Matt..." you sniffle, wiping your eyes

"don't have to thank me for that, Angel... just rest up, yeah?" He says with a gentle kiss to your pouty lips. And given that you feel like shit, who are you to deny him?

You don't know how long you sleep for, but when you wake up, Matt is in bed with you, now in a plain t-shirt and sweats, sitting against the headboard while his fingers skim over some of his files in braille. Your cramps are gone, and before you can even open your mouth to ask what time it is, he's acting.

"it's a quarter to three, Angel." He says with a soft smile as he presses a piece of your favorite chocolate to your lips.

"you thought of everything, huh?" You ask after swallowing the chocolate

"c'mon. Do you really need to ask?" He hums as he puts his files on the nightstand.

With the files out of the way, he maneuvers you until you're in his lap, your head in the crook of his neck as he wraps his arms around you.

"I take it you're feeling better?" He chuckles quietly

"much..." you nod "seriously, thank you. I felt like I was dying."

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head before replying, his voice calm and soothing.

"always, Angel."

[lesbikaiser]

I love ur writing so much maybe even more than I love ness 😸😸 could you do ness w/ a biting kink?? I just know he'd probably be so possessive and want to put his mark all over you so everyone knows you're his hehe TYSM if u do it ilyy

hii babe! im glad you like it that much omg! ofc i can, i loooove the concept of jealous ness because it's so him to be like that! really hope you like this one <3

cw for a bit of blood!

ness' lips feel hot against your neck, his tongue licking down the column of your throat as sharp teeth drag against your flesh, teasing to mark your immaculate skin. his hands clutch the fabric of your clothing tight enough to get to your waist, it's probably bruising your sides but you don't seem to care when his hips are literally pounding into you, cock dragging on your sensitive walls and each thrust reaching a particularly pleasurable spot that has your eyelids fluttering shut and moans getting higher.

your sounds mix with ness' desperate whimpers right in your ear, his fluffy hair tickles your chin and the smell of his shampoo fills your senses, it's so sickeningly sweet – just like him. you shove your face into his locks when his dick reaches deeper, tip hitting harder against your g-spot and making you bite back a whine of his name. but he hears it, and it almost makes him cum.

your cunt feels incredible around him, wet, tight and warm, clamping down on his dick in a vice grip and sucking him in every time he pulls out, it nearly makes him forget what got him to bring you to the lockers and fuck you right on the sink.

keyword: nearly. he can't forget it though, how you showed up at his practice looking prettier than usual – he didn't think it was even possible. a sweet smile tugging at your lips as you waved your hand towards him, showing the bag he forgot when leaving your shared apartment and he swore your orbs were sparkling, hair silkier than how he remembered and skin glowing under the sunlight in a way he could get blind if he stared for too long – and he was ready to risk it because you looked exceptional. he couldn't take his eyes off your figure bouncing towards the benches, and it would be a perfect memory if he hadn't noticed how all of his teammates were suddenly too interested, beyond the acceptable for just being curious about the intruder.

no, they were all gawking at you, seated prettily and waiting for him to go talk to you.

that's why he interrupted practice, excusing himself from the field and running towards where you were patiently sitting, he could feel his colleagues' gaze piercing holes at his back as he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him, guiding your confused self into the lockers and glueing his lips to yours as soon you both got in.

he needs them to know you're already taken, needs it to be as clear as day that he's your boyfriend and you're the happiest with him.

he moves away from your neck, watching your glossy eyes and swollen, slightly parted lips with your tongue lolling out, you are so fucked out already, quiet whimpers leaving you as you try in vain to hold back, brows furrowed as you stare back at him. shit, how is he supposed to control himself when you look so pretty, so hot while getting railed?

and he's the only one who can get you like this. no one other than himself is able to satisfy you the way he does, and no one will ever get to love you the way he loves you.

with his fingers wrapping around one of your knees, he pushes your leg further open, drilling his cock inside your hole faster – harder, ripping a loud moan out of you as you bring your hand to cover your mouth, trying your best to stay quiet. the helpless glare you give him is enough to drive him insane, doe eyes silently pleading him to have mercy on you because the others might just hear it with how loud you both are being, the sounds of skin slapping against skin, his whimpers and your whines bouncing off the walls and echoing through the tiles.

but he needs to make it clear what you two are doing right now, and if he can't have them hearing, they'll surely see the evidences of it on you.

"they were all–ngh! all ogling you... filthy bastards, gotta make sure they know you're mine." circling your waist with his free arm, he brings your body even closer to his – it that's even possible. kissing down from your cheek to your jaw, then reaching your neck, he sucks a bruise right on your collarbone, where he knows your shirt won't cover and it's gonna catch the attention of whoever looks at you – anyone will know you're taken at first sight. you whine at the feeling, nails scratching his nape and ness thinks he might just cum on the spot – you're marking him too.

he doesn't stop at just one hickey, painting your neck red and purple from your jaw to your shoulders, tongue licking at every new mark to soothe your fragile skin, and with each one he can feel you clenching tighter and tighter around him, your inner thighs getting slippery with the amount of slick your sloppy cunt is gushing out, soaking his dick, pelvis and even the sink you're sitting on.

he knows you're about to cum anytime, and so is he. letting go of your knee, he brings his fingers to your neglected clit, rubbing the soft pad of his thumb against it and the moan you let out is simply insane, how you call his name so desperately as you seek your high – and he knows he's the only thing in your clouded mind.

you're his, and his only, and the way your throw your head back, presenting your bruised neck for him – he knows you want him to give you everything he got. and so he does, sinking his teeth on your flesh, biting you hard enough to draw blood – the metallic taste all over his tongue, it's delicious, even more when you cry out as you cum on his dick, walls spasming around him.

"mmph– alexis!" it's all too much for him, the taste of your blood, your moan of his name and your sweet pussy gushing all over his cock and abdomen, practically milking him dry, he cums so hard his vision goes white for an instant.

still mouthing on your soft flesh, there's a comfortable silent in the room as both of you come down from your highs, panting heavily against each other and whining when ness pulls out of your spent hole. he bathes in the sight of your colorful throat, admiring like a proud artist admires their art, it takes all out him to not get hard again when he spots the bite mark right where your shoulder meets your neck.

"mine~" he licks and kisses the print of his teeth on your skin, muttering a small 'sorry' when he sees you wincing at the stinging pain. coming to look you in the eyes, he showers your cheeks with smooches, making you giggle before giving the fatest kiss on your lips, orbs practically heart-shaped when he speaks. "love you, mein schatz. won't let anyone take you away from me."

let's say, nobody dared to look at you for too long when you both showed up a few minutes later, your neck covered in purple marks and ness' nape red with scratches.

[lostinlovingrevery]

MORE being domestic with Logan pt 2: BUT you and logan get your first home together

- whatever your situation is with logan, either an apartment together, living seperate, living in the mansion- you both decided you wanted to get a house together

- logan picks up the more serious responsibilities of finding a house (not bc you couldnt do it and youre fully aware of everything. Its just logan has been alive for 200 years and he knows exactly what to do and expect) while you just scroll through pics on zillow and point out the houses you like and didnt lile

-whether you two want kids or not, you still agree to get a slightly bigger home- just to be able to have space for the chaos that may or may not ensue from yourselves or loved ones who visit

- you are more whimsy about how pretty the house is. Logan drills the realtor over the history, maintenance, plumbing, electrical- you name it he questions it

- "gotta make sure this place is perfect for you bub"

-once you finally pick a place, the lease is signed and keys handed over. You and logan spend the night in your first home that day!! No furntiure, just some pillows and blankets as you lay on the living room floor and talk about how to decorate and where to put furniture

- maybe yall christen the house by making love (fucking) right there on the floor too...

- after the chaos of moving in happens, youre working and logan is home. You come home to find at least one of the bathrooms completely torn out

- you could be mad that logan started this project without talking to you first but tbh you were kinda expecting it. He was staring a bit too hard at the tile when you were looking...

- sometimes you wonder if you should look up nesting habits for wolverines because the man spends the next year on housing projects. Only to learn later from jean that scott did the same thing in their house. Must be a man thing.

- you bicker over paint colors, placement over furniture.

- you and logan never have to pay a contractor to fix anything. No plumbling, electrical, maintenance. The mans got 200 years of experience and hes "not gotta waste money on some asshole who dont even know how to do the job right"

- (he also just doesnt like the idea of strangers in yours and his house)

-HOLIDAYS

- logan acts all tough but hes ALL about decorating for the holidays. Esp christmas

- "cant be letting the neighbors looking better than us"

-he lets you take care of the gardening. Plants just seem to hate him. Hell do the heavy lifting of mulch and soil and cutting the lawn though

-eventually he does get friendly with the neighbors and one day you cant find him and hes outside talking to "Gary" and several other men on the street, beers in hand, as they watched someone down the street cutting down a huge tree and theyre all critiquing his methods

- if youre part of the xmen, you both take turns on missions so someone is always able to be able to keep an eye on the house

- slow dancing in the kitchen at night

- if you get married or are already married he makes it a point to carry you through the threshold. More than once.

BONUS W kids 🩷

- if and when you guys decide to have kids, youre in for a treat.

- if you thought logan was bad before, hes ten times worsting. Hes nesting and has probably redone the babys/kids bedroom like 5 times before they arrive

- he wants to put all the baby furniture together but you insist he wait so you both can do it. You end up arguing during half of it but yalls are a team and figure it out (well logan does. You just smile prettily at him while he fixes whatever you messed up)

- if yall are adopting, logan is so tense about the house looking perfect and being a home for the one your adopting.

-hes worried about being a dad but honestly hed been a dad for a long ass time, maybe not biologically a dad yet, but he def is in spirit (rogue, kitty, laura, you name them)

Enjoy!!! ❤️😊

[nexiva]

You made me hate you

Part 5

Bucky x reader

Warnings: nothing new yet, just good old swearing and angry reader, sloooow burn

Summary: Reader is training some new recruits :)

A/N: Winter break and I’ve got a loot of free time to write so here you go 😏

Masterlist

Days had passed since the last time I saw him. I didn't even know how many. Days of pretending that conversation never happened. Days of avoiding Bucky Barnes like my life depended on it.

But something was different now.

Before, my hatred burned hot—sharp, raw, consuming. Now? It was still there, but it sat heavier, like a dull ache in my chest. I hated that I kept replaying his words in my head. I hated that I had no clever retort. I hated that, deep down, a part of me wondered if he was right.

Oh well, fuck him.

I shook the thought away and focused on the recruits standing in front of me.

Fresh faces, eager but clueless. Some of them had raw talent, others… well, they needed work. I tightened my wraps and stepped forward, scanning the group with narrowed eyes.

“Alright,” I barked. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Newbies hesitated a bit, glancing at each other like scared little puppies. I rolled my eyes.

“Well? Move!”

That got them going. They launched into drills, throwing punches, dodging, rolling. Some had decent form. Others? Not so much.

I stepped in, adjusting stances, correcting punches, barking out orders. A younger recruit—probably no older than nineteen—kept flinching every time I moved toward him.

“You scared of me, rookie?” I asked, crossing my arms.

He swallowed hard. “No, ma’am.”

I smirked. “Good. Because out there?” I jabbed a finger toward the exit. “Hesitation gets you killed.”

We ran through drills for the next hour, my voice sharp, my patience thin. But despite my frustration, I could see improvement. They were getting better, stronger.

The door creaked open.

Barnes (and Steve but somehow I haven’t noticed him until seconds later.) The trainees momentarily shifted their attention to the two super-soldiers entering the room.

“You think Y/L/N is at least somewhat as strong as they are?” one of them whispered to his friend, grinning foolishly—apparently forgetting that my hearing is far sharper than that of an average person. His mistake.

Without hesitation, I swept his legs out from under him, making sure he hit the ground with force—but safely.

I gritted my teeth and leaned down slightly, whispering, “It’s Agent Y/L/N, by the way.” Then, with a smirk, I winked and him and straightened up. I even heard Steve chuckling in the back.

“Keep going!” I snapped, watching as they scrambled back into position.

Steve and Barnes were training in the other corner of this gigantic room. I barely even saw them from where I was standing, but somehow the tension here was suffocating. I knew Bucky was waiting for something—maybe a glance, maybe a reaction. But I wasn’t going to give it to him.

The training session had finally ended. The recruits were exhausted, dripping with sweat, and eager to get out of here. I dismissed them with a sharp nod and made my way to the showers, relishing the thought of washing away the grime of the day.

The hot water stung against my sore muscles, steam curling around me as I let myself unwind for just a moment. The sounds of the gym faded, leaving only the steady rhythm of water hitting tile.

I didn’t hear the recruits lingering outside. I didn’t hear the whispered insults, the crude remarks.

But someone did.

Barnes and Steve had been gathering their things on the other side of the gym when they overheard one of the recruits snicker to his friend.

"She’s such a bitch."

Bucky froze. His fingers flexed against his duffel bag.

"Yeah," another voice chimed in. "Acts all high and mighty like she’s better than everyone."

"Maybe if she actually got laid, she wouldn’t be such a—"

The recruit didn’t get to finish his sentence.

Before he could even process what was happening, Bucky had him shoved up against the lockers, metal fingers gripping the front of his shirt with terrifying ease.

The other recruits backed away immediately, eyes wide, unsure of whether to intervene or just run.

"Buck, just take it easy—they're just kids," Steve said, his eyes filled with concern.

"You got something more to say?" Bucky’s voice was low, controlled, but deadly.

The recruit swallowed hard, his bravado disappearing in an instant. "I—I didn’t mean—"

Bucky yanked him forward slightly, just enough to make his point. "Say it again. I dare you."

The kid shook his head quickly, eyes darting around for help. None came.

Bucky leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don’t talk about your superior officer like that. Ever." The recruit nodded frantically.

"What the hell is going on here?" My voice sliced through the tension.

Bucky didn’t budge. His chest was rising and falling steadily, jaw clenched. He was furious. I stepped forward, arms crossed, still dripping from the shower. - "Barnes, back the hell off. Now." - He exhaled sharply through his nose, but he let go. The recruit stumbled forward, looking like he wanted to bolt.

I turned to the rest of them. "Out. All of you. Now!.” I never actually heard myself screaming like that. I was furious.

They didn’t hesitate. They all scurried out like frightened rabbits, leaving only me, Steve and Bucky.

I stared at him. "What the hell was that?"

His nostrils flared. "He was talking shit—"

"I don’t fucking care. They’re stupid children who need to learn." My voice was firm. "They’re my recruits. Not yours. You don’t get to throw them around like that."

“Y/N, Buck was really just trying to-” I scoffed, shaking my head. "You’re really defending him? What a surprise Rogers!” I turned my head back to Barnes.

"I’m telling you that you don’t have power over them. Over me." My fingers clenched. "You don’t get to act like some self-appointed protector. I can handle myself."

Bucky mumbled something under his breath and stormed out of the gym. I stared at Steve as if I had just seen a ghost.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, you're right. He shouldn't have reacted that way."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Finally, someone’s on my side—only a few months too late."

This strange day had passed so quickly. It was already evening. God, I was so tired. I really needed some sleep.

But I didn’t get enough sleep that night. Why you may ask? Because for the first time, something so weird was about to happen that would turn my world a biiit upside down.

[planete777]

꒰ RED LINES .:. LN4 ꒱

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n finds her fate hidden within two red lines, and fears the demise of her and lando's relationship. [based on this ask]

pt. 2 .:. 'red hearts'!

WARNINGS. pregnant!reader, both her and lando aren't ready so there are discussions about potential abortions, mental break downs (i.e panic attacks, crying, you know the drill), angst, mentions of throwing up (no one does it i promise), attachment issues (like me fr), a little bit of fluff (because im not that evil >:])

NOTE. first non-high!lando fic!! i've never written a pregnancy fic, so like, forgive me if it's bad haha 🥲 i put so much effort into my banner, like i'm so proud of it lmao. anyways, enjoy reading luvs 💗

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any high!lando thoughts, scenarios and requests, or any other trope too 🤍

edited to add tag in banner

y/n is almost blinded by it.

two bold, red lines.

she finds it completely comical how she didn't know it sooner, for the ink that runs down the result window is so palpable, it might as well have been written with a permanent marker.

the test taunts and mocks her as she stares at it in complete despair and confusion as she so sure that they had been careful. but now, she lets herself cry over spilt milk because having a baby, on top of mountainous piles of stress that came hand-in-hand with uni, was not a checkbox she would've liked to tick off amidst her status quo.

the bathroom pounds with an deafeningly eerie silence, as she stares, and stares, then blinks as tears flow, then stares again. her ears are swallowed by loud static and her vision fuzzes around the edges, making the test in her hand seem further away than it actually is, and she allows herself to completely fade out.

she feel utterly sick. like she wants to throw up, but the upcoming bile, instead, remains dislodged in her throat and presses immense weight into her chest. it shortens her breaths, she's hyperventilating as if she's been strangled, then panic completely overwhelms her. everything before her zooms in and out like a malfunctioning camera and the pregnancy test clatters to the ground as she digs the heels of her palms into her eyes.

she doesn't remember the last time she had a panic attack this severe, and neither does she know if she'll get over it solus. yearn for a presence beside her devours her brain and she wishes that lando–

lando.

the way her heart seems to squeeze in her chest is almost too animalistic to be normal, and it arrives at the thought of him being unacceptable of the baby. he's barely situated in one place, fuck, he basically travels for a living, and all her mind conjures is how he won't be there when she needs him most. she tries to wish it away, because just thinking about her makes her spiral even more and she knows she cannot survive with a child whose father decides to be absent.

codependency isn't great, that she's thoroughly aware of, but lando's presence brings a wave of comfort braided in the brightness of his smiles and the warmth of his embrace, and it has become her whole lifeline.

yet, the bathroom she's in feels too small and too cold to be anything other than unbearable, and her body feels to weak to remain upright, sliding down to the tiled floor. she sobbing and spluttering so much that lando can hear it from two rooms down, and he rushes into the en suite without a thought in mind.

he crouches down in front of her, hands flush against the skin of her cheeks. he's shaking, fucking terrified out of his wits, and his words are enunciated with a tremble.

"hey, hey, y/n breathe with me," he desperately takes her hands into his, and places it on his own chest, making exaggerated breaths as y/n's start to simmer. it feel like hours stretch by, the air surrounding feels tense with fear and devastation, and by the time she settles, y/n senses nothing but exhaustion.

"what's wrong, love? you're scaring me," lando gently asks, and she struggles to respond, mouth rid of any moisture as if it had been scraped dry. lando takes the initiative to look around in hopes that anything would give him a clue to his girlfriend's break down.

then he freezes.

the white stick lays there, gleaming and glowing like it's fucking sent from heaven, and he feels his heart plummet into the depths of his guts. he knows he can deny it all he wants, but it's undeniable, what he's seeing, yet prays like a grieving mother that what he thinks is not true as his quivering hands reaches for it.

two bold, red lines.

"oh fuck," it punches out of him, every inch of energy disperses like fleeing birds, "you're pregnant?"

it's so small, so timid that he almost doesn't see it, but she nods, and his arms fall like he's been shot and the test leaves his fingers. he swears he's drenched in ice cold water and he remains silent, bound by stunned numbness. his lack of response spurs y/n again, and she begins sobbing, pressing her face into her arms and wiping it furiously. all she thinks is that he doesn't want it, and out of sheer terror, she starts rambling utter shit.

"i can get rid of it, if you want, lando, just please i'm begging you, don't leave me."

he's crying himself now, doesn't know what to feel at the suggestion, but it makes him gag.

"get rid of it if i want to? fucking hell y/n, i'm not a prick like that," he fumbles out, words wet and hardly cohesive, "as long as you want to keep it, i want the baby too."

she looks up at him, eyes so full of hope that he immediately takes her into his arms.

"you sure, lando?" she's still hesitant, burying her head into his chest, and as further reassurance, he kisses her forehead, "as sure as i'll ever be."

[misshoneyimhome]

GM☀️ imagine Willy participating in no nut November and inexperienced reader pushing his boundaries to break his rules and wearing the beautiful outfits to his games to remind him what’s he’s missing. Another to thing add is that his brother is there it adds to challenge. I love the dress she has on because it features his favorite her bum lol I just know a fan might say something about it during game love some jealous William.

https://www.instagram.com/emma.powell/p/C-54fNWyn4t/?img_index=5

Oh my gosh, yes! 🙌🏼 I know I’ve said my requests are closed because of the Sexy Christmas series, but I just couldn’t resist this one 🙈 It’s not much, but this would definitely work as an Inexperienced!reader x Willy scenario 😉

Tropes & warnings: inexperienced!reader x Willy, established relationship, No Nut November, teasing!reader

Word count: 1.1K

➼｡ﾟ

No Nut November I inexperienced!reader x Willy ✐

William Nylander had a problem, and that problem was you.

When he’d agreed to participate in No Nut November, it had seemed like a harmless challenge. A bit of fun, a test of willpower, perhaps even an exercise in self-discipline. What he hadn’t accounted for, however, was you—his endlessly tempting, sweetly mischievous girlfriend—becoming the ultimate distraction. At first, you hadn’t meant to test his resolve. But once you realised the effect you had on him, it became far too tempting to push his boundaries.

And the real tipping point came on game night against the Islanders. You knew William loved when you dressed up for his games, always the supportive partner who effortlessly turned heads in the players’ family section. But tonight, you’d decided to take things a step further.

The dress you chose was daring, and you knew it. Black velvet, with spaghetti straps and a figure-hugging design that left little to the imagination. It framed your curves all the way to the ankles, accentuating your legs, while the clinging fabric hugged your bum in a way you knew William couldn’t ignore. It was classy, yet undeniably sexy—exactly the sort of outfit that would linger in his thoughts all night.

As you walked into Scotiabank Arena, the atmosphere seemed to shift. You definitely didn’t look like someone who was meant to fit it. Heads turned as you made your way to the players’ family section, your heels clicking against the tiled floor. Tugging lightly at your jacket—worn only to shield you from the chill—you carried yourself with an assured smile. You felt the weight of lingering stares, but they didn’t matter. Your focus was on William.

You found your seat and settled in as warmups began. At first, William didn’t notice you—he was focused on his drills, skating with that effortless grace that never failed to leave you in awe. But as he glided past your section, his eyes finally landed on you.

His reaction was immediate. His blue eyes widened slightly, his jaw tightened, and his gaze lingered on you. He faltered for the briefest of moments, recovering quickly, but not before you caught the telltale shift in his expression. The usual confident smirk he wore during warmups had disappeared, replaced by something darker, more intense.

You smirked to yourself, satisfied. Mission accomplished.

Throughout the game, you couldn’t help but notice William sneaking glances in your direction whenever he had the chance. His focus wavered during pauses in play, his gaze flickering to the stands as if he couldn’t help himself. His teammates didn’t miss it either.

“Bro,” Matthew Knies muttered on the bench, nudging his teammate with his elbow. “What’s got into you tonight?”

“Nothing,” William replied curtly, adjusting his helmet in a bid to appear unaffected.

But Matthew followed his gaze, easily spotting you in the stands. His eyebrows shot up, a low whistle escaping his lips. “Ah, I see now. You’re screwed, man.”

William scowled, brushing him off, but the faint blush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

The game was already intense for William, but you had made it downright impossible to focus. The black velvet dress you’d chosen for the night wasn’t just bold—it was practically a weapon. The open back and figure-hugging cut were designed to turn heads, and William’s brother, Alex, sitting not far from you in the family section, didn’t miss it.

“Bold choice,” Alex commented when you arrived, a teasing grin on his face. “You trying to give Willy a heart attack before the game starts?”

You smirked, brushing off the comment. “Just showing my support.”

Alex chuckled knowingly but didn’t push it further, though his occasional glances during the game suggested he knew you were up to something.

In the first period, William caught sight of you as he skated past, his eyes lingering just a second too long on your seat. His usual cool composure faltered ever so slightly, and Alex leaned forward with a smirk.

“Nice job distracting him,” Alex quipped, his voice low enough to keep it private. “We might lose the game because of you.”

You couldn’t help but grin, leaning closer. “He’s doing just fine. Besides, I thought a little motivation never hurt anyone.”

Alex shook his head with a laugh. “You’re dangerous.”

Things took a turn in the third period. During a brief pause in play, a fan seated a few rows behind you decided to make his opinion on your outfit known.

“Nylander’s got good taste off the ice!” the guy hollered, loud enough for half the section to hear. “That dress should be illegal!”

Your cheeks flushed as a ripple of laughter spread through the crowd. You glanced at Alex, who looked just as amused, but when your eyes found William on the ice, the amusement stopped.

He’d heard it.

William’s head turned sharply toward the stands, his jaw tightening as his gaze locked on the fan who’d spoken. His glare was icy, his displeasure evident even from where you sat. His lips pressed into a thin line before he skated back to the bench, but not before throwing one more look in your direction.

“Uh-oh,” Alex said with a low whistle, leaning back in his seat. “That’s the look. Someone’s in trouble—and it’s not just that guy.”

The game ended in a win for the Leafs, but as you made your way to the hallway to meet William, you could feel the weight of his gaze before you even saw him.

He emerged from the locker room, his damp hair slicked back and his suit perfectly tailored, but his expression was anything but calm. His blue eyes burned as he walked straight past Alex, who raised his hands in mock surrender, and came directly to you.

“What was that about?” he asked, his voice low and tight.

Feigning innocence, you looked up at him with wide eyes. “What was what about?”

William’s lips twitched, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer. His voice dropped to a whisper, his grip firm. “Don’t play coy. You knew exactly what you were doing. And that guy—” He cut himself off, clearly still irritated by the comment.

“Jealous, are we?” you teased, unable to hide your grin.

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he leaned down, his mouth brushing against your ear. “I don’t like sharing what’s mine.”

Before you could respond, Alex walked past, clapping William on the shoulder. “Relax, bro. She’s just keeping you on your toes. Besides, I think she deserves a reward for helping us win.”

William shot his brother a glare, but the tension eased just slightly as he focused back on you. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, you love it,” you replied with a cheeky smile.

He sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s get out of here. You’ve got some explaining to do about that dress.”

The possessive look in his eyes promised that you were in for a long night—and you weren’t complaining one bit.

[getadvanceinfo]

From the uninitiated to the seasoned veterans in the field of home improvement and carpentry, everyone has a boon companion in Phillips driver bits at some point in time. But do we really understand these versatile tools as we should? Are we exploiting the full benefits that these little gems have to offer? And most importantly, are we nurturing and caring for them as they truly deserve? All these pressing questions, and more, will find their answers in the comprehensive guide that follows.

[auxiliuno]

Don’t be shy, make the post abt chris prince

𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 | ○° ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵈⁱᶜᵏ ᵒʳ ⁿᵃʰ?

Synopsis: Chris agrees to give Manshine a little bit of motivation to win.

ᵀᵃᵍˢ: ᵈᵉᵍʳᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ, ᵖʳᵃⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ, ᵉˣʰⁱᵇⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿⁱˢᵐ, ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐᵖⁱᵉ, ᵘⁿᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵉˣ, ˢqᵘⁱʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ, ᵐᵃˢᵗᵘʳᵇᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ. ᴹᴰᴺᴵ!

"W-wait Chris, too fast!" You gasp, as he drills his hips into your sopping cunt. Juices leaked soaked the table under you, and dripped onto the cold tile floor. Chris's frame engulfed your smaller one, with his arms at each side of you. Panting, he looks up and smiles at his Manshine students. "You see her? Pretty ain't she?" He asks them, sweat dripping from his brow. He stoops down to kiss you, tongue forcing entry to your mouth, hungrily tasting you. "Agh, fuck darling, you taste so sweet," he says, in between your gasps and moans.

You don't even remember how you got into this situation; you remember your boyfriend telling you about how he's getting paid to be a mentor to some aspiring Japanese football players, with you offering to visit him while he works. The next second, you made an agreement with him to be a free use cum dumpster for his team if they won.

"How about we give them a better view?" He suddenly flips you over the table, making you face the group of men, watching you with bulges inside their pants. Some of them started palming themselves, others were watching intently with lust in their eyes: at your frame. You were the prize promised to them if they worked hard enough and won. Imaginations running wild at what they would do with you once they won. Your breath hitched in your throat and pussy got wetter at the attention. "Hm? what's this? You like me fucking you in front of other people baby?" Chris's hips relentlessly pounded into you, erotic slapping noises filling the room. "Showing them that you're a whore for my cock huh? You know the promise, if they win, I'll let them have a taste of your sweet pussy." Your cunt tightened around him as he said that, eliciting a deep groan from him. "Such a good little slut for me, showing them who this pussy belongs to." His hands were on your hips now, gripping them with such intensity that you were sure a bruise was forming.

One of his large hands came up and yanked your head back, causing you to arch against his broad chest. "Look at them, staring at you like hungry beasts." Chris growled. You were almost too fucked out to see; sweat coating your sweet body, perky breasts bouncing each time Chris rammed into you. From the tears and drools on your face, you make out the men's forms; their pants tightened painfully around their erections, desperately needing to release tension. "Won't you be a good girl and give them the release they need later?" He asked in a mocking tone; "None of them can fuck you as good as I do though." His voice dropping down an octave, preditorial and dangerous.

You could feel your high coming, body starting to spasm as tears roll down your cheeks. "I'll be a good girl Chris! So please let me cum!" He relished in hearing you beg. Grunting, he moves his hands to hold your arms behind you. "Shit, come on baby, cum on my cock and show them how good you are." As he says that, your cunt clenches around him painfully, squirting onto the table in front of you. You feel Chris stutter his hips too, his final thrusts becoming sloppy and out of rhythm. With one final slam against your ass, he releases his burning cum into you, leaking out of your pussy.

Staying in you for a few more seconds, he releases you and you slump against the cold table, breasts squishing onto the smooth surface. The whole scene looked like a panel from a hentai; men you didn't know watching you get fucked dumb on a cock and making a huge mess after. You were too tired to see that some of them already took their cocks out and stroked themselves to the sight of you cumming, and came as you did too. You could hear Chris in the back shuffling around, assuming he was cleaning himself up. He chuckles behind you, hand cupping your ass cheeks. "Enjoyed the show gentlemen? This is what you get if you perform good tonight." Too tired to stay awake any longer, you drift off to sleep, blissfully unaware of what the men were thinking about doing to you tonight.

Here it is! Chris being a total perv to you in front of his team, and you enjoying it :D

Thank you for reading and requesting! Have a good day.

Og thirst post here!

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

June part iv

I’ll tell you the truth

But never goodbye

Remus thought about practice and all the sounds he wouldn’t be hearing again for a couple of months now. A din he desperately hoped would come again in the Fall.

The quiet bustle of the boys arriving. Yawns and some early morning groans. Bags being tossed down into stalls. Velcro and stick tape. The skate sharpener across the hall. The shivery sound of a bucket of pucks being scattered onto the ice. The slap of pucks and bodies on the boards rebounding in a high-roofed, empty rink. The ping of the goalposts. Bursts of laughter between drills. Showers stuttering into a hard, hot spray and the echo of voices off of tiles.

He wanted it all again. The crowds and video tape sessions. The signings and the chance to meet fans. The wins—even the losses. Even the press conferences. He wanted to see his best friends every day. He wanted to win.

They didn’t have a destination, but neither Remus nor Sirius tried to change that. They walked through the New York streets, downtown, where everything felt a little bit like a movie set. Most places were shut tight for the night, but it still felt alive.

Sirius looked handsome in the city lights. In his jeans and t-shirt. More importantly, he looked relaxed. More relaxed than Remus had expected, anyway.

“You’re calm.”

Sirius didn’t look over at him, but a small smile appeared on his face. “Maybe I just look it.”

“Okay, fair.” Remus squeezed their tangled fingers together. “I just meant that you don’t seem…”

“Miserable.”

“Well, sure. That word works.”

“I’m just…” Sirius looked down at him. “Not sure if it’s sunk in yet, maybe. You?”

“No. Not really.”

Sirius squeezed his hand back and Remus felt his engagement ring press into his skin. If anything good came out of this, it was that he would not be taking of his ring any time soon. He caught it glinting in the passing lights.

“New York really never sleeps,” Remus said.

“Neither do we, apparently.”

It was helping more than sleep, though—the walking. It was starving off the soreness they were bound to feel soon. He’d already glimpsed a bad bruise forming near his knee.

“Either way,” Remus said. “I like these walks of ours. It feels different than Gryf.”

“Ouais,” Sirius agreed. “At least we both have rivers.”

The next street they turned onto was not asphalt, but cobblestones. It wound and bent, going against the grid of New York that Remus had become accustomed to. He leaned his head back to look up at the lit apartments above. It might have been two AM, but he could see shadows moving around, or the colorful flickers of televisions.

“Did you talk to Logan?” he asked.

“Non, not really. I mean, on the ice I did. But I don’t know. I wanted to get out of there.”

“Yeah.” Remus sighed. He fought the urge to start talking about the game. Part of him wanted to know each and every single one of Sirius’ thoughts. The hit in the second. The odd, sloppy breakaway in the third. That last buzzer attempt.

“You want to talk about it don’t you,” Sirius said.

Remus laughed, then groaned, hiding it in Sirius’ shoulder. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

It was something special, to have someone who could read his mind. He closed his eyes, inhaling Sirius’ familiar scent and trusting him to guide him on the street. Sirius’ hand disappeared from his and wrapped around his waist instead. A kiss was pressed to Remus’ temple.

“Curb,” Sirius said softly, and Remus stepped down to cross the street then opened his eyes.

“Magnetic,” Remus said. “Do you remember them calling us that?”

“No one needed to remind me.”

Remus tightened his arms around Sirius’ hips and pressed a kiss over his shirt. “I know. I was just remembering.”

Their passes had connected so thoroughly this series. So well. It was awful, almost mean that the passes that stuck in their minds the most were the ones that had missed. 

“How about we keep remembering…” Sirius began. “But how about we do it with fries and milkshakes.”

Remus looked up. The idea made his mouth water. “Yes. What made you say that?”

Sirius just smiled and jerked his chin forward. “Là.”

There was a diner on the corner. Many of the booths in the window were filled—Other people in search of late-night snacks. The neon sign out front read 24 HOURS and Remus could see a group of girls with milkshakes and a basket of fries in front of them.

He reached up to wrap his arms around Sirius’ neck and pressed a hard kiss to his cheek. “Love of my fucking life.”

He felt Sirius smile. Sirius reached for his hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing his ring. “Ouais, it’s true.”

He held the door open for Remus.

They were shuffled into a leather, worn booth and given giant seemingly endless menus. Remus found that he could hardly sit still. He kept laughing to himself. At one point, when Sirius gave him an amused, dazed look, he’d had to cover his mouth.

“You’re wild on adrenaline,” Sirius laughed.

Remus wondered if that was it. If adrenaline was what this was. These weird, surprising tight bursts of joy bubbling over in his chest. Surely he should be feeling low. He had just lost part of his childhood dream yet again.

Was adrenaline fueling the smile Sirius gave him when their two chocolate milkshakes and order of fries arrived? Did adrenaline cause Sirius to skeptically watch him dip a fry into the thick chocolate? Did it make them both laugh when Sirius tried it, made a face, and quickly switched back to ketchup?

Or maybe something had changed.

“You know, I always wanted to talk about games with you,” Remus said.

“Always?”

“You know. Before.” Remus brought the straw of his milkshake between his teeth. “I always wondered what you were thinking. Even when you were mean to me.”

Sirius groaned and covered his face with his hands. “Arrêt.”

Remus reached across the table and tried to pull his hands away. “I did! Sirius, don’t hide, come here.” He laughed when Sirius wouldn’t. “Sirius.”

Sirius let out an exaggerated sigh and pushed himself up from his side of the booth, only to slide into Remus’, arm along the back behind him and tight against his side.

“Wh…” Remus began.

Sirius leaned forward and stole the fry from Remus’ fingers with a short tug of his teeth. “You said come here.”

“That was my fry.”

“Too late.”

“Meanie.”

Sirius just made the sound that Remus associated with both him and Logan—a very Quebecois sort of tisk of disapproval (in Logan’s part, mostly jokingly aimed at Finn). Sirius’ arm slid from the booth to Remus’ shoulders and he kissed him. Remus tilted his chin up into it and let himself relax.

“Chocolate and potatoes?” Sirius asked as he dipped to kiss Remus’ jaw. “Really?”

“Sweet and salty,” Remus replied, trying not to let his eyes slip closed. They were in a diner.

“Weirdo.”

Remus hissed at a playful nip to his neck and Sirius pulled back. Sirius dragged his milkshake over to their side of the table and took a long sip. Remus could tell he was thinking. Remus had always been able to tell when he was thinking. Even when he hadn’t been able to figure out anything else about Sirius.

“Tell me,” Remus said.

“I wish I hadn’t broken that stick,” Sirius said quietly. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes. “Re…”

“I know,” Remus said. “I know.”

Sirius let out a frustrated sound and rubbed at his eyes. “Merde…I don’t know what gets into me. Well, I do…”

They had both been expecting them, but as the clouds of loss edged back into their peripheral vision, Remus sighed. Sirius tightened his arm around Remus and tilted their heads together. Remus closed his eyes as they took each other’s weight.

“Julian said it best,” Sirius said. “I wanted this for you.”

“And you.”

Sirius pressed his lips together. “I—yes.”

Remus arched a brow, confused by the conflicted look on Sirius’ face. “What, what’s that look?”

Sirius sighed. He smiled, just a little. A bewildered sort of smile. He hooked his fingers into the plastic fry basket mindlessly, the greasy paper crinkling at his touch. His eyes went a little unfocused as he thought. Their blue-gray looked so fair in the diner’s light. “I keep wondering why I’m not as upset as I usually would be. I keep trying to, like…” He moved his free hand outward in a small sharp motion, palm forward. “Push myself towards being that upset. Which is insane. Why do I feel guilty for feeling slightly okay about this?”

“I…” Remus nodded slowly. “I get that. I do. Hey, but that’s good. It’s good you feel okay, you wouldn’t have been okay other years. That’s why I said you seem so calm I’m…I’m fucking proud of you for it.”

“Ouais. I guess…” His expression turned almost shy. “I guess me too.”

That made Remus smile.

“What I mean is…I’m gutted.” Sirius picked up a fry. “I want to throw something, I want a do-over…I want to be angry at Logan.” He tossed the fry back, turning to look at Remus. “But the thing that I keep thinking about isn’t the game. Isn’t the Cup. It’s you.”

Remus’ smile faltered. He looked down. “Yeah? Well… you keep catching yourself feeling guilty?” Sirius nodded. “Well, I keep catching myself thinking that this was it. That I’m finished.”

“You’re not. Re.” Sirius’ hand cupped his shoulder and Remus turned his head to look down at it. He could have drawn his scar in perfect alignment even while not being able to see it. Sirius’ fingers, over his shirt, traced it perfectly, too. He watched Sirius do it once, then twice. It was so much apart of him that even Sirius could map it into his skin.

“Loops.”

“You almost never call me that anymore.”

“Well, right now you’re my teammate as much as everything else and I’m telling you you’re going to get there.”

Remus smiled. He felt the waver in it and so did Sirius. “Telling me as my Captain?”

“As your Captain,” Sirius confirmed. His fingers traced the scar again. “As your friend and teammate who watched you…watched you take every part of your life back from Fenrir.”

Remus surprised himself with a laugh and tears springing to his eyes. “Fuck. I did, didn’t I?”

“Ouais.” Sirius kissed a tear away. “You fucking did.”

“Oh my God,” Remus whispered as the tears pressed harder at him. He tucked his face into Sirius’ neck and Sirius wrapped him up tight. His voice was warm and familiar in his ear.

“I’m telling you as all those things, and I’m telling you as someone who loves you more than anything. Ever.” Sirius’ hand spanned his back, rubbing gently. “D’accord. I think that was most of my English for tonight.”

Remus laughed tearfully again, and then let out a quiet sob, shoulders hitching. “I don’t know if I’m crying because I’m sad or relieved or what.”

“I don’t know either,” Sirius said. His voice held a teasing note. “But our waitress looks like she’s going to bring us free pie.”

Their next laughs were realer, and Remus pulled back. Sirius made a soft sound and thumbed away the tear tracks on Remus’ cheeks. Sirius still looked tired. The strain of the game was still there, but there was a happy, weightless flush to his cheeks that Remus had never seen before.

Sirius dipped a fry in his chocolate shake and held it out to Remus. “Sweet and salty night.”

Remus let Sirius feed him the chocolatey fry. Sirius dipped his own in ketchup and popped it into his mouth. Remus looked over his familiar profile. He’d seen it in shadows and bright lights…he would see him soon in the lake house’s sunset.

“Next year, mon loup,” Sirius said. “You and me. It’s not the end.”

Remus nodded and let Sirius tuck him back under his arm. “You and me.”

~

Logan was leaning against the side of the rooftop bar between Luke and Alex, listening to everyone swap stories and enjoying the warm wind on his back. It was good to be with Percy and Will again. He was glad now, basking in the New York night, that he hadn’t ruined this year for himself—at least not the entire year. He was glad he could stand here laughing with them about old times. The desperate fog of sadness from his first month still haunted him, but it was easier now. That was all he could hope for.

His rum and coke was sweet, but not as good as it was when Finn made it for him. The chicken wings on the table were spicy, but not as balanced as Leo’s. What had started with promises of a big, wild night had mellowed out quickly. It seemed like the team was content to simply be together, basking in the high of the win. Logan was basking with them. Just a little. Even when part of his heart, part of his mind, part of everything that was him, was at home with Leo and Finn.

It was close to three in the morning and Percy was in full form, joking with him about all the girls trying to get his attention. It was true—their group had been clocked the second they came in.

“I swear that’s the sixth one,” Percy sighed, looking over at the bar. “We’re just stars in your galaxy huh, Tremzy.”

“It’s the eyes. Nothing’s changed since college,” Will added. “Thank God Finn isn’t here.” Will had stayed out with them, which was rare. Usually he went home to his family before long. Logan was happy he was here. He’d always loved how loud his laugh was. It reminded him of Freshman year, hanging out in the kitchen of OKN house with Finn and Percy, watching Will cook the house dinner. He’d been such a good captain. The best, besides Sirius.

“What would happen if Finn was here?” Saint asked. He was standing at Luke’s side. Luke kept stealing sips of his whiskey—and narrowing his eyes playfully when Logan smiled at him.

“He, ah, sort of forgets what flirting is,” Logan explained and Alex nodded, pointing at Logan like it would enhance how true that was.

“I mean, maybe it’s more like he’s too good at it?” Percy offered.

Logan laughed. “He talks to everyone and it’s only when they ask him for his number after like, twenty minutes of talking—”

Alex laughed. “Then he’s like, oh no.”

Logan tried for a Finn accent. “Oh, shoot, sorry, I’m actually…”

Will threw his head back with that wonderful, infectious laugh. “Wait, that’s so dead on.”

Logan smiled. “But it was so so wonderful getting to know you! Those pictures you showed me of your dog—Man, they made my night.”

“All right,” Saint held up a hand. “I get it.”

“Yeah stop, it’s creepy now,” Alex said. “That’s scary good. Maybe better than mine.”

Luke scoffed. “Dude, you can’t have a Finn impression. You are a Finn impression.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Alex held up a hand. “If anything, Finn is an impression of moi.”

Logan smiled. He glanced at his phone. One new message, but from Noelle telling him he was coming to lunch tomorrow. It was late.

“Hey, hey,” Percy said, making Logan look up. “I know that look…Nu-uh. Not yet.”

Logan raised his eyebrows, smiling. “Perc.” He put on the Finn voice again. “C’mon, give me a break.”

Percy shuddered. “Okay, I didn’t mean to open this can of worms. This terrifying can of worms.”

“Perc, he beat his boys out today,” Will said. “If he wants to go home, let him.”

Percy put his hands against his chest. “But I haven’t even gotten to the best part of my day yet!”

“How could we ever guess,” Saint said flatly.

Percy winked at him. “Sebastian…Cassie Baker smiled at me today.”

Logan laughed and finished his drink. “Ouais, I’m out. You can moon over my ex-girlfriend without me.”

Alex finished off his drink, too. “I’m done, too. This was fun, boys.”

Percy spluttered. “What? It is young. The night. The earth—is young!”

“I have two boyfriends in my bed, warm and asleep,” Logan said, pushing up from the wall. “And my bed is usually very cold and very empty. So. This was fun. Goodbye.” He looked over at Luke, knocking him lightly in the shoulder as a way of saying goodnight. Luke jerked his chin in reply.

“Tremzy.” Percy actually pouted. “No, non, no.”

“Ouais, yeah, ouais,” Logan said. Percy grabbed onto his arm and made a show of putting most of his weight on Logan to keep him in place. Logan did nothing to help him and Percy began sliding towards the floor.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Will dragged Percy back to his feet with a fond shake of his head. “You’re so embarrassing.” he nodded to Alex and Logan. “You two have a good night. Don’t beat yourselves up too hard. It was a good game.”

“Yeah.” Alex sighed but nodded. “It was.” He looked up and called over to the bar. “A round for these guys, Hank!” He tussled Percy’s hair. “My parting gift, Perseus.”

Percy sent them a mournful look, but looked willing enough to accept the drink. “Fine.”

Even Saint cracked a smile.

“That really was a good Finn,” Alex said as Logan followed him down the stairs to the main restaurant and out the door. A breeze picked up on the dark street.

“Merci.” Logan shivered a little in his thin shirt. “Are you calling an Uber?”

Alex sent him an unimpressed look.

Logan sighed. “You’re walking, aren’t you?”

“What do you take me for?”

“Fuck,” Logan said, but followed him.

It was like walking with Finn—Logan didn’t have to think about directions or finding his way around. He knew they lived near each other but would have to split up at some point. Alex would tell him when they did. For now, the air felt good against his skin and the silence was gentle. Sometimes he still felt like he could hear the game in his head.

“Finn asked me once to try and take the shot for you if I could,” Alex said.

Logan wasn’t surprised. Alex touched his elbow briefly to get him to turn left.

“Luke offered me the same,” he said. “It…it is what it is.” But that wasn’t quite right. “Non. It fucking hurts.”

“I know,” Alex said. “I’ve had that with Kasey. You want to apologize when there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Logan half nodded, half shook his head. “I don’t know. I wish I had gotten to see Le before we left. I thought he needed space. I thought I needed space…I guess we did. I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Alex said.

“Adrenaline’s wearing off,” Logan said. “I miss him.”

“You’re walking home.”

“I know,” Logan said, eyes down. “But I miss him.”

Alex’s hand appeared on his back, rubbing gently.

“Is Kasey doing okay?” Logan asked.

Alex was quiet for a long time. When Logan looked over, he was frowning down at the ground and fiddling with the small, dark diamond he wore.

“Alex?”

Alex guided him right. The light was red but not a car was in sight. “It’s…really hard for me to tell right now actually.” He stepped up onto a low wall and balanced for a few steps before jumping off again. The temperature had dropped. Logan thought it felt like rain.

“You’re the one who told me to talk to Finn when I was worried about us,” Logan began carefully, and frowned when Alex sort of flinched. “You’re not the type to not take your own advice.”

“I don’t know,” Alex said. “Sometimes I am.”

Logan supposed that was true enough. No one always practiced what they preached. Logan watched their feet as they walked, waiting for Alex to say more. They had fallen into sync. They were quiet for a while again. Alex lead him straight, then left, the straight on again. Logan knocked their shoulders together at one point. Alex knocked back.

“I’m not…worried about us,” Alex said suddenly. “Exactly… I just wonder—I wonder if I’m…” He rubbed a tired hand across his face as they avoided a puddle at a curb. Logan was beginning to think this was about the wedding. He didn’t blame Alex if it was. If Leo and Finn suddenly decided to get married, he’d crawl out of his fucking skin.

“You should tell them,” Logan said softly. He realized he was replying to unsaid things, but if anyone might understand even a sliver of Alex’s situation, it was him.

Alex’s face tightened. “Tell them what?”

Logan thought for a moment. “Whatever you want. Whatever you need to.”

“What I need to?” Alex repeated. “What I need is to show them—show them that I…” Alex gave a sharp shake of his head. Just as suddenly, Alex switched topics. “Thanks for coming out tonight.”

Logan looked up at him. “Alex—”

“I hope—did I force you? I’m sorry, Tremz.”

“What? Non, non. I…I’m glad I came. Really, I am. But—”

“Okay,” Alex said. “Just checking.”

The streets turned to cobblestones and took on curves. There were still a few apartment glowing. Logan liked that. It felt like Gryffindor. There was always a light on. Finally, Alex stopped.

“You’re right,” Alex said. “I’m left.”

“Oh, I thought you were agreeing with me.” What he meant was you can talk to me. “Al, can I do anything?”

Alex smiled. It was a little tight, but he gave Logan a playful shove in the right direction. “No. Thanks, Tremz.”

Logan didn’t believe him, but he didn’t know how to push either.

They stood there in front of each other for a moment. Alex huffed out a laugh and hugged him hard. A hug Logan associated with Finn, with Finn’s parents. They both did the little shoulder pat that their mom hugged with, too. It made Logan smile.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Logan said.

“Yeah,” Alex replied, muffled by Logan’s shoulder.

When Logan had crossed the street, he turned. He felt like he hadn’t tried hard enough, and he’d already made that mistake once tonight with Leo.

“Mais—I’ll say one thing?”

“What’s up?” Alex nodded, waiting on the corner.

“What you said earlier,” Logan said. “In the locker room and just now. About showing them. That we can be both lovers and—” He almost said enemies. “Opponents.”

“The…oh. Yeah?”

“I think…I think I won a hockey game today,” Logan said. "And I love my boyfriend. If I had lost a hockey game, I would still love my boyfriend. When there are no more hockey games, I’ll still love Leo. And if someone, some fucking reporter wants to link those two things, then they can go to hell.”

Alex was shades of blue and silver across the narrow street.

Logan shifted, a little nervous now. “I don’t think…I don’t think we have to show anyone anything. If it’s okay for me to say…”

Logan thought of the hell this year had been. He thought of Leo, holding him when they’d found out he was going to New York. Leo, tumbling into their living room in the middle of the night when Logan had come home from All-Stars. Leo and his soft kisses in the bright hospital hallway while they waited to see if Finn was okay. None of that was a show. Leo might like to put on a performance on the ice for the fans, but everything else about him was instinct, real and pure. Logan admired that. He’d put up fronts for Finn for so long, fronts that he was still tearing down.

“You don’t have to show Kasey and Nat anything. Not, like, a happy face or that you’re okay. That’s not…” Logan shook his head. “That’s just a bad habit, Alex.”

Alex tilted his head up to look at the faint moon over the city. It wasn’t full, but it was getting there.

“Tremzy…” Alex said slowly. When he smiled, the moonlight lit up his face. “You know what?”

“Quoi?”

“You’re fucking right.” Alex put a hand to his chest. The necklace glinted between his fingers. “You’re so fucking right.”

Logan let out a breath. He smiled back. “Yeah? I don’t know if that made sense in English.”

“Yeah.” Alex’s voice cracked, his brown eyes were bright with tears, but when Logan made to step forward he waved him off.

“Well,” Alex said. “I’m going home now.”

There was a lot of relief in that word. So much that it made Logan smile and feel choked up, too. “Me too.”

Logan tried to open the door as quietly as possible, going slow and expecting darkness.

Only, the lamp above his couch was on, turned down to the dimmest setting, and Finn was looking at him from just below it. He was wearing his faded NASA t-shirt and sweatpants, socked feet crossed on top of a pillow. His sling was draped over the back of the couch, his arm resting easily atop another pillow which also propped his book up.

Sleeping against his chest, was Leo.

Logan wanted to crumble to his knees.

“Oh,” Logan mouthed. He kept perfectly still.

Finn folded the book closed silently. He had his glasses on. Hi, his soft eyes said, and then with a glance down at Leo and a palm on his back: Don’t worry, I’ve got him.

Logan set his keys into the bowl by the door as quietly as he could. Leo. He toed his shoes off. Leo. He walked over to the couch and knelt beside them.

“You are so bad at sneaking,” Finn whispered—so quiet. “Did you have a good time?”

“Ouais,” Logan whispered back. He settled a palm beside Finn’s on Leo’s back, eyes trained on his sleeping face. He looked so peaceful. Logan leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss over his t-shirt. He looked up at Finn so he could read his lips more than hear him. “Had a good walk with Alex.”

Finn’s eyebrows raised, surprised. “Oh? Alex…is very good to walk with.”

Logan nodded. He would tell Finn he was a little worried tomorrow.

“Is he okay?” Finn asked softly.

“He will be,” Logan said. He nodded towards Leo. “And ours?”

Finn rubbed a slow hand down Leo’s back with a sigh.

“Lo…”

So far, Leo hadn’t stirred, but at Finn’s touch Logan felt the change in his breathing. Logan could always tell when Leo was awake. Slowly, Leo’s eyes opened. His cheeks were flushed. He regarded Logan sleepily for a moment. Logan felt Leo’s muscles tense as he remembered.

“Hi,” Logan said softly. “Hi, Le.”

“You—” Leo began, but his voice was hoarse and he had to begin again. “You should be out celebrating.”

“I did,” Logan said. “But I want to be here. Merde, Le, I wanted to be here fucking hours ago, I…” Logan shook his head. He was upset with himself, more so than he’d allowed himself to realize earlier tonight. “I should have come and see you. Soleil, I didn’t know…I didn’t know if you’d want…God, I love you, what can I do? Is there anything?”

Tears filled Leo’s eyes. He gave his head a small shake.

“Okay,” Logan said. Was he allowed to reach out to him? Did Leo want that? “Okay…”

“I’m going home with my parents tomorrow for a couple days, Lo.”

Everything in Logan froze. He looked up at Finn, whose eyes told him that this was what he had been about to say.

“Quoi?” Logan breathed. All the tension came right back into him. The fizzy, heavy quiet drained right out of his head.

“Lo,” Finn said, slightly warning.

It knocked him off balance, sitting back on his knees, but Finn reached out and grabbed his hand. His brown eyes were firm, clouded with racing thoughts and emotions. Relax. Think. Wait. Finn’s fingers squeezed around his own. Think. His thumbs made slow tracks across Logan’s knuckles. It’s okay. Think about him. Think about why.

Slowly, slowly, Logan pulled himself back towards Leo, who was watching him with exhausted blue eyes.

Logan let out a breath, he squeezed Finn’s hand then dropped it and combed his fingers through Leo’s hair. “I…okay. Okay. Whatever you need, Soleil.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to see you play—”

“Shh,” Logan whispered. “Le. Leo. It’s not about me. I know I just—um. Freaked out for a second. I’m sorry. We’ve had enough of that this year, ouais?” He leaned down to kiss Leo’s temple. “Home is always good.”

Finn closed his eyes at that, tucking his nose into Leo’s hair. “He’s right, Le. I…he’s right.”

Leo’s first sob was quiet, just a hitch of his chest, but the second came out in a harsh breath. He turned his face towards Finn’s chest, eyes squeezed shut.

Logan felt Leo’s pain right in the center of his chest. “We love you. So much. Le…” Logan wrapped an arm around his back, and Leo reached out a hand to hold his.

“We do,” Finn whispered. “We’re right here.”

“Always,” Logan said. “And—Le, you played so well tonight.” Logan’s throat closed up and he had to pause before he could talk again. “And I’m so fucking proud of you. You’re so talented and this year has been shit. It’s been absolute shit, Le.”

“I really—love you, I just—I need…” Leo gave up trying to talk, just pressed closer to Finn.

“You don’t have to explain,” Finn said soothingly. “We understand.”

“Ouais.” Logan nodded. “I also would—would want Eloise’s chicken soup.” Logan wiped his eyes clear of tears so he could see Leo better. “Even with full spice.”

It startled a laugh out of Leo, crying and blocked-nosed as it was. “Full spice?”

“Ouais, I would. I swear it.”

“Me too,” Finn said. “It’d make me cry but me too.”

  Outside it started to rain. A crack of thunder and the force of the drops doubled. Logan didn’t realize he’d hardly looked up until the second clap of thunder.

“The storm,” Leo said.

“Can’t hear it,” Logan replied.

Leo took a few breathes, then picked up his head from Finn’s chest and looked at him.

“Hi, pillow.”

Finn laughed softly. “Very happy to be of service.”

“Didn’t think I was going to be able to sleep at all.” Leo pressed a kiss to Finn’s chin and groaned a little as he pushed himself into a sitting position, like he hadn’t moved in ages. He let out a long breath, rubbing at his eyes.

“I love you guys, too,” Leo said. He reached out for Logan. “The ice…Seeing you on the ice…”

Logan shook his head. “I know.” He pushed himself up onto the couch when Leo made free the space on his other side. Finn sat up and slipped his sling back over his head to cradle his arm. He sat facing them criss-crossed and Leo touched his face. Finn kissed his palm.

“Did you guys eat after the game?” Logan asked.

Leo shook his head. “Finn wanted to get me something but…I really just didn’t want anything.”

“You should have something,” Logan said, then he leaned forward for a quick kiss. “Wait.” This. This was something he could do. “Don’t move, either of you.”

Logan moved around in the yellow light of his kitchen with hard-fought for ease. He cracked eggs into a bowl. He poured a splash of milk in, the way Leo had taught him. In the pan, he kept the heat on low, turning the eggs slowly so their soft curl didn’t break. He turned the heat off while they were still just a little runny, slid them onto the toasts—which he had managed to time perfectly—to let them finish cooking while they melted in butter and a few passes of shaved cheddar. Four shakes of chili flakes. He went to the fridge and found the fresh mint that Leo had bought for him. He waited a moment for his kettle to boil, then clumped the mint into three mugs and poured the hot water over them. A little drizzle of honey in Leo’s, a big drizzle in his, none for Finn.

In the living room, Finn and Leo were dozing together. Outside, the sky lit up with lightning and both of their eyes opened. Leo held out his arm.

“You’re back.”

“Of course,” Logan said.

Leo looked over at Finn. “See?”

Finn shuffled Leo closer under his arm. “I do. I do.”

Logan braced himself, setting the tray of Leo’s eggs and the three teas down just in time for the thunder to make him flinch. Leo’s eyes were clearer now. He smiled when they saw the food.

“Aw, Lo…”

“It’s nothing like you can do,” he said. “But I love you.”

I love you, love you, love you.

He settled the plate on Leo’s lap and watched as he took a bite, humming as he chewed. He held out the toast for Finn. Another crack of thunder rang out, but Logan hardly heard. He was warm in one of those softly glowing apartments he’d seen from the street. The sun was going to rise soon and Leo and Finn were tucked close to him. Their faces were tear-streaked, noses still sniffling, and it wasn’t quite their summer. Not yet.

Outside it was raining and thundering, but inside it was beginning to feel to Logan like their storm was passing by.

[rinniewvrld]

𝗪𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗘 𝗔𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘 (8:11) .ᐟ

summary, it's getting late and on your way home, you share a carriage with your friendly co-worker. or at least, that's how it's supposed to go.

featuring, (john) the narrator x gn!reader

tags, obsessive behavior, unreality, 4th wall breaks depression, suicide, mentions of death, lil bit more fucked up than usual

notes, i got bored and i wanted to experiment on more concepts !! this is less yandere focused, but more horror/thriller focused. this is just a concept still, so i might post more about this oc 🫶 (im not too happy with the way i wrote this but eehh)

8:11 pm. You didn't realize how late you were working until you checked the time on the punch machine. It's been a couple weeks since you started doing overtime to earn enough to pay all your monthly expenses, and now you didn't have a job to support yourself.

Your boss's voice still rang in your ear, his incessant yelling and degradation scratched the walls of your ear canal like a power drill piercing your head. And when you recieved an email telling you have been fired, the scratching became worse and you almost reached your fingers inside your ear and pull out your eardrums. Almost.

With a sigh, you step down into the metro station. It was eerily quiet, but you've gotten used to coming home late at this point. You brought yourself a ticket from the self-service machine and began waiting. You let your body collapse onto a seat, your limbs turning numb from the cold.

Usually you'd busy yourself with your phone while you wait, but for some reason, there's an itching urge to look around your surroundings. Of course, it's just a boring old train station with blank tile walls and the distinct smell of something metallic and dusty, of steel break dust and creosote.

Though... there was something off by the lighting. It was yellowish, the color intensifying at random intervals. But you brushed it off as the staff changing out the lights. Maybe they wanted the station to feel more cozy, yet the yellow just felt dizzy and vomit-inducing.

You turned to the train tracks, the metal glinting at the light as if taunting you. It beckoned you to come close, to jump into its arms. The tracks got closer and closer, until you were standing over the ledge and looking down at it. It offered a chance to get rid of all your problems, a chance to never worry about paying rent in time or being able to afford yourself dinner.

You saw the lights, you heard the whistle. And you jumped without a second thought.

... Wait, that— that wasn't supposed to happen. No. Let's try again.

8:11 pm. You didn't realize how late you were working until you checked the time on the punch machine. It's been a couple weeks since you started doing overtime to earn enough to pay all your monthly expenses and you couldn't take out your frustrations on after-work drinking anymore.

With a sigh, you exited your office building and headed down the streets. There were still some shops open, but with the state of your wallet, you don't think you can afford to buy anything.

You begin to walk to the direction of the train station, scrolling through your phone mindlessly and hearting your friends' posts on facebook. Seeing your friends' smiling profile pictures made your heart warm. You couldn't help but find happiness through others' lives, even if your own was shitty.

When you looked up from your phone, you noticed you were about to cross the road. Immediately, you tuck your device in your pockets and wait for the walk sign to change. There weren't any cars around, but you can't be caught by jaywalking. Seconds tick by and the stick figure changed its position, indicating it was okay to walk.

However, as you crossed the street, a loud shriek made you freeze in place. A blinding light came towards you and a hulking truck crashed into your body. The last thing you felt was the cracking of your ribs, broken bones digging into your heart.

... That's not right either.

.... acks got closer and closer, until you were standing over the ledge and looking down at it. It offered a chance to get rid of all your problems, a chance to never worry about paying rent in time or being able to afford yourself dinner.

Immediately, you snapped out of it when you saw the lights and managed to pus yourself away from the edge just before the train could snag you down on its path.

The sound of your heartbeat rang loudly in your ears like a grating whistle, you can feel the left ventricle pumping every inch of blood into your fragile body. Adrenaline coursed through your veins like a drug.

You let out a sigh of relief. You couldn't believe you almost killed yourself, much worse you don't even remember how you even got so close to the train tracks in the first place.

The doors open, a hissing sound sparked in the air. If you looked hard enough, you could see a light fog seeping out of the carriage and gracing the tiled floor. It felt unnervingly warm.

For some reason, you peeked your head inside only to see if carried no passenger. It was normal for the train to be empty around this time, but the warm air exiting the train felt as if something or someone had been inside just a moment ago.

And then, the door closed. And your head dropped to the floor.

... You heard the sound of metal screeching and you felt something— more like someone —pulling you by the arm. You yelped in pain at their harsh grip and as your nose bumping into their chest. The train now sat where you had planned to lay, snapping you out of your thoughts. It was quick, and you found yourself grasping your beating chest. You barely noticed it had arrived in the first place. It could've been you under its wheels, organs crushed and splattered across the tracks.

The doors open, a hissing sound sparked in the air. If you looked hard enough, you could see a light fog seeping out of the carriage and gracing the tiled floor. It felt unnervingly warm.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?"

You jumped and looked around, finally paying attention to your savior. Then, you hear him call out your name, "Ah, you're..."

"It's... John. I'm your co-worker, yes." John reminded you, smiling uneasily yet with a sense of relief. "But are you really okay? You weren't planning to jump, are you?"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head immediately. "N-No! It wasn't anything like that, I'm perfectly fine. I just... I wasn't paying attention."

His face twisted into a pained expression, as if he doesn't entirely believe you. You winced as his grip on your arm tightened.

Finally, he sighed and ran his hand through his hair. John gave you a tight-lipped smile, as if he's trying to convince himself that everything was fine. You smiled back to convince him that it was.

"Alright, fine. But I'm still gonna accompany home, and no you can't refuse." His usual playful tone returned, and you found yourself chuckling slightly. "Come on, we can't make the train wait forever."

... Don't die on me again, dear. You're my favorite by far.

[overusedusername]

HANAKOU WEEK: DAY 2

Fight/Love Languages

fight aka Kou exorcises Hanako

Extremely late because as stated in my last post i tried to finish my fic, and well....that did not go so well. My writers block is ever consuming and i barely got more than 300 words in so i give up. I tried to draw Kou too but then i gave up on rendering him so sighhhh. The unfinished fic and drawing will be beneath the cut

Anyway, long live HanaKou i love this ship smm and from what ive seen everyone made sooo many amazing things or this week im so fed 💥💥💥💥💥

The Unfinished Fanfic:

Curled over Hanako like this- with the roof tiles digging hard into his knees, with the harsh rain drumming as loud and impossible as his heart against his ribs- Kou thinks about love, and about sacrifice.

(Maybe there’s no distinction- maybe those two are a whole; one in the same for Kou Minamoto the way that punishment and atonement is for School Mystery No.7)

School Mystery No.7

Volatile, and a threat; evil barely contained, snarling and twisted darkness suppressed only by enchanted seals. That’s what his grandma had told Kou with a hushed, warning look in her eyes- teaching him how to funnel electricity and weave static energy into strong, power-clamping seals under a midday sun. 

At the time, he listened with enthusiastic eagerness- collecting each of her tales like coals to stoke his own fire of justice. Because erasing evil from the world was justice, and Minamoto or not, Kou had always harbored a deep drive to help people; to bleed, if it meant others wouldn’t get hurt.

If Hanako were all-bits the evil, vicious villain that childhood stories over the scent of thunder painted him out to be, then maybe it'd be easy. Maybe, Kou wouldn't be struggling now- hesitation drilling bones to the ground, until limbs lock up. The trembling in his muscles, pressure in his joints, tightness in his chest; the mist in his eyes. 

(It's funny- The rain drips straight through Hanako, but Kou's love spills onto the ghost and carves tracks of salt down his cheeks; Kou's sacrifice is what will be the end. 

Hanako’s end. Right now, it feels like Kou’s end, too)

But a disgraced, traitorous piece of him didn’t think of the boy in the 3rd floor’s restroom as evil- When Hanako comes to his mind, infuriatingly, stupidly, he doesn't think of the unstable murderer with a dark past, first. Like snapshots, his mind flashes through images of a cheery ghost with a smile as bright and wide as the light that illuminates him through the stained glass window of his bathroom, see; Even now, he bears a smile upon his face that’s idiotically soft, burned onto his face like a brand; his stupid amber eyes locked onto Kou’s own do the rest of the burning.

It’s unfair, how unfailingly calm Hanako looks right now. It takes Kou all his strength- which isn’t a lot- and will to not shake Hanako by the shoulders and scream at him. If Hanako looked angry, or awfully enough, even fearful, Kou would at least be able to make sense of it. 

Unfinished Drawing Of Kou: