#and guess what. logan is wearing it right now

[albatris]

the letters in the shops when I'm clothes shopping do not stand for small medium and large ok L stands for logan sized M stands for mmmmm this is logan sized I think and S stands for so this shirt will fit logan

[lefaystrent]

"I want to tell you something."

Thomas speaks the words into the quiet of the kitchen. He stares down at the pot of water sitting on the stove. The burner has been lit, and the heat rises. Soon, the water will boil.

"And it's- it's something that I've thought for a long time now. Years. But I've never said anything."

The smallest of bubbles rise to the surface. Over his shoulder, Thomas can see Patton sitting at the bar.

"It's okay. Take your time," he says. His nose scrunches up as he smiles. His glasses reflect a scattering of kitchen light.

Thomas snorts. "I think years is enough time." He breaks a bundle of pasta in half, letting them fall gently into the steaming water. He adjusts the temperature, then shifts on his feet. "I've just...never said anything," he repeats.

"You don't have to say anything at all." Janus sits at the bar instead. He wears a frown, and he's leaned over the surface with his chin in a propped palm, but the patience in his gaze belays his bored demeanor. "If you don't want to, you don't have to. I certainly won't force you."

Want to? No.

Thomas shakes his head and stirs the pot. "I think I need to."

"Do you?" Logan sits at the bar. His arms are folded over his tie, but it's not an intimidating pose. It's careful. Considerate. "I'd like you to take a moment to 'check yourself before you wreck yourself', as they say. Is that how you use that phrase?"

Thomas rolls his eyes, and yet he's smiling. This is a heavy topic, but it's not constricting. He stirs the noodles easily and they begin to fold together like they were made to. "I'm okay. I don't need to think about it more. I'm not anxious, not really."

"Yeah?" And now it's Virgil sitting at the bar. He stops as if he had been caught in the middle of playing with the string of his hoodie. Then he smooths down the front of his clothes. No ruffles here. He nods. "Good. That's good. That's good, right?"

Thomas still smiles. "Yes, that's good." The pasta softens as it swirls around the water. Round and round it goes. When will it stop? Nobody knows.

"Well don't just keep me in suspense!" Remus slams his hand down on the bar. And then he does it again and again, maybe just to hear the smack, smack, smack. He's not grinning maniacally or anything. Just a quirk of his mustache. A glint in his eyes. A cocked brow. "You know I love a good tease... but this is playing too coy!"

Thomas heaves a huge sigh. "I guess I just..." He trails off. He knocks the spoon against the pot's rim to shake off the water. He sets it aside. "I just don't want this to change anything."

The warmth of the burner blankets his face. The stove vent thrums above his head, and distantly Thomas hears the air conditioner click on. A light sheen of perspiration beads across his face, but its not wholly unpleasant.

Would it be bad? If this did change anything?

Roman sits at the bar. His shoulders are low, like all the breath has left him. He watches Thomas calmly with sad eyes. "What have you got to lose?"

In the pot, the pasta swirls and swirls until it's ready.

"I love you," Thomas finally says, and he turns to look over his shoulder to find that it's himself who sits there.

The other him beams proudly. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

Satisfied, Thomas flicks off the stove burner and drains the water in the sink. He stirs together noodles, hamburger meat, and red sauce, until its in perfect measures, just the way he likes it.

After making himself a plate, Thomas sits at the dining table. He is alone with himself, and he's alright with that.

[disneyprincemuke]

the summer seemed to last forever

alternatively: how bad would it be if we just hard launched?

in which they didn't want summer break to end because that meant having to sneak around again

(series masterlist)

“i don’t wanna go back, i just wanna be here forever,” she hums, her cheeks pressed into her palm as she stares out at the calm waves. she lies on her stomach as she kicks her feet in the air, her sunglasses resting on her nose as her hair flew in several directions from the contrasting winds.

they find themselves on a private and discreet resort. one where there’s not many people, the younger girl really made a valiant effort to find one that’s not too famous to avoid any pictures leaking.

“you don’t mean that. you cried last night because you said you miss racing!” logan laughs, lying on his back next to her. he turns his head and holds his hand up above his eyes to shield himself.

“i lied, i don’t know,” she sighs tiredly, dropping her forehead on her forearm. she peeks through an eye and is genuinely confused. “how about you just… wear your sunglasses?”

“i wouldn’t be able to see how pretty you are,” logan frowns as a smile slowly stretches his lips. he pinches her cheek before rolling to lie flat on his stomach with her. “i don’t really wanna go back either.”

“if i had to be teammates with alex, i’d share the same sentiments.”

“no, not like that!” logan laughs. he moves closer to her, resting his head on her shoulder. “i don’t wanna have to go back and pretend like we’re not together.”

“i literally know what you mean,” she sighs. “i don’t think i can take another ‘are you with logan’ investigation from those losers.”

“hey, one of them’s my teammate!”

“he’s the biggest loser out of them all!”

“apologise!”

“sometimes i think we should just hard launch our relationship,” she rests her head on top of his, her feet swaying to hit his feet that are also in the air. “honestly, how bad could it be?”

“i fantasize about that sometimes,” logan agrees. “i just get so tired pretending like i don’t wanna hold your hand everywhere during the weekend. i also want to be able to kiss you after a race! do you have any idea how sexy you look after a race?”

she rolls away from him with a groan on her lips. “logan!”

“what?”

“it’s just the adrenaline that makes you wanna do that!” she laughs, shoving him back gently on the shoulder. “we figured that out last year when you were on the top of the podium.”

“i looked hot right? it’s not often you have to look up to see me on the podium when i’m next to you.”

“please! i let you win that race.”

“oh, how very generous of you,” logan smiles, resting a hand on the exposed skin of her waist. “is there any way i can thank you for that?”

“give me all your money,” she smiles sweetly, hanging her head to the side as she moves towards logan. “let’s hard launch our relationship. let’s tell the world — to hell with the people that will talk shit about me. i’ll get over it.”

logan raises an eyebrow. “you will not get over it. be realistic, my love.”

“i’ll get over it just to be able to kiss you in parc ferme. you’re right — i’m too sexy to not be kissed after a race.” logan frowns, making her giggle. “you’re hot too, i guess.”

“you guess,” logan trails off, shaking his head. “it’s like you don’t even love me anymore.”

“absurdity!” she shrieks in shock. “seriously, though. let’s tell everyone? i’m so tired of sneaking around and playing into their games.”

“let’s just keep it to ourselves for as long as we can,” logan mutters, pressing his lips against her shoulder. “we won’t ever get a moment of peace if we tell everyone now. i know i would hate that.”

she hums, goosebumps covering the area that his lips touch. “i guess you’re right. i just hope the summer would last forever — i’m having the best time with you here. i almost forgot we’ve got a job to return to in a couple of days.”

“we’ll have fun. we’re at least doing one of the things we would talk about,” logan smiles on her skin. “traveling together everywhere. sneaking into each other’s hotel room just makes it so much more interesting. how many times has james walked past you outside my room again?”

“i’ve lost count. i swear he knows about us but is saving us the embarrassment,” she giggles. “but i guess he’s got bigger things to bother about than figuring out his driver’s relationship status.”

“oh, he cares. he asks me about you every weekend.”

“shame he’s already married.”

“if i could throw a question mark in your race right now, i really would.”

“you’re just mad you’re not james vowles.”

“true.”

“hey!” lily squeaks, dropping herself into the mat next to the girl. “we found the brochure for water activities! and no,” she glances at logan, “they don’t have spots for fishing.”

“thank god,” she mutters in relief while logan sulks next to her. “do they have one where i can beat my boyfriend up?”

“if they did, i’d have already signed us up.”

kidy/n

🎵 zack tabudlo - give me your forever

👤 tagged lilyzneimer

liked by lilyzneimer, oscarpiastri and 46,927 others

kidy/n i totally didn’t drown in the sea wdym?

view all 7,399 comments…

user1 no logan dump? my entire summer is ruined

user2 omg maybe she thirdwheeled oscar n lily?

user3 no way,, logan was definitely with them 💀

oscarpiastri is it me or y/n that’s the thirdwheel 😐

oscarpiastri can you PLEASE go to your boyfriend and get your own boyfriend???

edited 2m ago.

user4 i saw that osCAR JACK PLS EXPLAIN URSELF

user5 whAT DID HE SAAAAAY

alex_albon wowwwwwwww where did u guys go

kidy/n .

alex_albon good talk 🤝

lilymhe my girlfriends are soooo pretty 😚😚

lilyzneimer no u

kidy/n no u!!!!

logansargeant actually me

user6 BOOOO WHERE’S THE LOGAN DUMP

user7 weekly dose of loscar where?

user8 wow song choice

user9 sounds like someone’s down bad

kidy/n

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 67,492 others

kidy/n i love cosplaying and driving people crazy

view all 5 comments…

comments on the post have been limited.

logansargeant stop acting like i’m ur stand in boyfriend

kidy/n ur literally the rzn i cant find a bf

logansargeant excuses for the biggest skill issue

ciara_yln going to the beach without me is crazy

lilyzneimer babysitting was tiring

logansargeant

🎵 lily allen - fuck you

liked by kidy/n, sebastianvettel and 38,592 others

logansargeant being the rzn she doesnt have a bf 🤝 being the rzn i dont have a gf

view all 476 comments…

user10 ok? then just date each other

user11 u might just be the one to solve world hunger my bro

user12 they’re stubborn

user13 THESE ARE MY PARENTS, YOUR HONOR

kidy/n honour*

logansargeant omg we got a daughter?? kidy/n

kidy/n idw kids with u ew

alex_albon ???

landonorris ???

georgerussell63 ???

lilymhe !!!

alexandrasaintmleux !!!

charles_leclerc ???

kidy/n omg shut up

mickschumacher is this what people consider just friends or did i miss the revised version of some new dictionary?

user14 U KNOW WHATS UP

user15 i’m in love with you (tell us what you know)

user16 *slams credit card on the table*

user17 please speak the truth and nothing but the truth 🙏🏼🙏🏼

taglist: @myxticmoon

[everythingne]

marry me — ls2

you and logan have danced around dating since you had met all those years ago. An impulsive kiss may lead to a big jump in your relationship.

logan sargeant x reader

warnings/notes: steamy kissing guys watch out, so short i wrote this in one sitting, barely beta read, logan being head over heels, we love childhood friends to lovers!!

The photographs spread across the dining room table. You had sorted through majority of the things your mother had sent your way, but the photo albums of old pictures from the summer you���d spent with the Sargeants needed two sets of hands and two brains to sort through.

And so you called over Logan.

He was back in Florida for only a few short weeks during his winter break, visiting his parents and such. You had made the call expecting him to be busy, but you were pleasantly surprised when Logan had cheerfully told you he could be over in an hour after he helped his mom with something. You cleaned up the apartment a bit, changed into something you could wear around company (not that Logan would care), and brought out a bottle of wine for the occasion of reconnecting again after a few years away.

Lucky guess, Logan’s favorite wine was still the expensive one you used to sneak from his grandparents liquor cabinet when he’d visit in the summers.

He’s sitting next to you now, laughing at some photos you’d recently gotten developed. They’re from prom, your family having flown him out to surprise you so you both could go together—as ‘friends.’ Even if the crush you both had on each other was terribly obvious.

“God that was such a fun night,” You grin, showing him a photo you have of Dalton picking you both up and the tiny bottle shots of Fireball you both had in your hand in the photo. Logan laughs at Dalton’s horrified expression and leans on you for support.

“I gotta get you to these clubs after the races, I swear the guys will fucking love you. Oh, what are you doing around Monaco’s GP?” He asks, bright eyes and a wide smile as you slip the photo into the keep pile and keep thumbing through.

“I’ll have finals that week.” You him to him, “so depending on when my classes finish I could probably come down.”

“Please,” Logan laughs, then pauses at a photo that makes his eyebrows tense and he groans, “remember Kadin?”

“Oh my fucking god.” You whisper as Logan flips to show you a photo of his graduation party in Miami, where your short lived pre-college summer fling boyfriend is hanging off you in the pool, “he was such a dick.”

“Why did you even date him? He was a total asshole to you, like, all the time.” Logan tosses the photo in the discard pile and leans over to refill his wine glass as he asks. His eyes meet yours and you shrug, trying to control the blush that desperately tries to show on your face.

“I was bored, and the guy I did like at the time was moving away, so.” You shrug, trying not to look at Logan. You know if you do, you’ll spill your still massively huge crush on him. Wine made your lips looser and you couldn’t afford that right now.

“So, you dated a guy that was so bad I, of all people at that party, was the one who fought him?” Logan smirks and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. He’d broken Kadin’s nose after he caught him talking shit about you, to you. It had been a whole joke between your families for years.

“Hey, you chose to hit him.” You raise your hands in mock surrender and he laughs, picking up his little stack of photos to sort through.

“And I’ve never regretted it.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth and you snort softly at his confidence once more, before turning back to the photos in your hand. Comfortable silence lapses for a moment before Logan sets his down and looks over at you.

“I miss living down the street from you.” He looks over, cheeks red from his words as he watches you in the soft sunset lighting of the kitchen you’d grown up in. You both had done homework in these seats, eaten dinner here, played games, bickered, and had deep talks here. This was the place he’d realized he really loved your way back in fourth grade, and the place he let you go when he moved away for motorsports. You had always been his home, and he was surprised it had taken him this long to figure that out about you.

“I miss it too.” You sigh, “it’s nice to be able to sit and just… be us again.”

But when you turn to look at Logan, it’s like every rational thought leaves your head. Almost like just him being beside you is more intoxicating than the wine you’ve been slowly sipping at. He’s everything you’d ever wanted, he’s everything you needed, and yet he was untouchable. Until now. You watch his eyes as they flicker around you, unable to find a spot to settle, as if every spot of your skin is just as perfect and just as important as the rest. His hand finds your knee and squeezes it, and you find yourself tilting to him, seeking him out. It’s unconscious for you, as it is for him, and right before the big collide he hesitates.

“Is this…” he whispers, his hand sliding up your leg to rest mid thigh as his other comes to your jaw to tilt your head to him. You swallow, hard, and nod to him. To your best friend of almost twenty years, and watch his eyes flicker down to your lips before he leans in. You flutter your eyes shut when your lips softly brush each others, a test, allowing you to pull back if you want. When you don’t Logan pushes in and you meet him and a slight clack of your teeth.

The kisses start as little innocent pecks, but you aren’t complaining when he starts to get a bit more intense with it. You shift to turn yourself, one hand coming to his neck as your thumb presses to his pulse point earning a soft whine between two harsh kisses as a reward, but he nips your bottom lip as payback.

Logan’s presence on you and around you is intoxicating as he pulls you off your chair with one arm, you’d briefly forgotten just how damn strong he was as he effortlessly sets you on the table. His free hand scatters the photos you’d carefully stacked out of the way as he keeps your lips connected in harsh, deep kisses you find take every bit of oxygen out of you as you careen forward each time for more. It’s a feverish moment, lips connecting, sighing, hands grabbing whatever they can to ground you.

“Logan—“ you gasp, and he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes as your hot breaths mingle between you. The feeling of his panting breaths rolling across your neck making goosebumps prickle along your skin.

“Is this okay?” He asks again and when you nod he smiles, “alright, so stop talking and just sit pretty there, yeah?”

“I will but wait,” you gasp for air and he pulls back a bit more, allowing you to catch your breath. It’s here when clarity hits both of you, post make out haze slipping from your minds as his hands settle by your hips on the table.

“I’ve wanted to do that since high school, y’know.” You whisper, “the whole… kissing thing.”

“Me too, yeah.” He agrees, and you both just kinda sit in silence for a moment afterwards, “it’s been a long time coming hasn’t it been? I’ve liked you for… god over a decade now? Almost two?”

“Really?” You giggle as Logan blushes and nods, his hands taking yours as he kisses your knuckles. The heat of the moment is gone, sure, but now there’s a sort of raw genuinity about everything. It’s like seeing the world with glasses for the first time, every fuzzy thing is suddenly clears.

“Remember that promise I made you make in fourth grade?” He says and you almost burst into a loud laugh when the memory hits you, two dumb kids sitting on a playground and pinkie promising under the slide.

“If we weren’t dating by thirty five, we’d marry each other.” You link your pinkie to his and he grins, tightening his hold on your pinkie with his own. The sun comes in beside you, wrapping you both in its warm embrace as the tenderness of the situation makes your skin warm.

“I know we still have time but—fuck it, I’ve been thinking about this since you called me and asked me to come over. I can’t wait any longer. I don’t wanna wait.” He admits, almost whiny at the end before he leans forward and closes his eyes. His forehead rests to yours as he murmurs, “what would you say if I asked you right now? No ring, no witnesses, just us?”

“To marry you?” You feel dizzy, feeling him wrap his other pinkie around your other free one. Locked in.

“To get married, now.” He sits back to look you in the eyes again, “I know it’s kinda weird but I have enough to support us both and I loved you for so long and I—I really want—

“—Logan I would marry you with nothing to show for it.” You let go of his hands to cup his jaw, “Paper rings, no witnesses, just us in this kitchen. I’d marry you here. I’d marry you anywhere. I’ve loved you probably just as long, and maybe we’re rushing it but who fucking cares?”

A giggle escapes your lips and Logan’s smile doubles in size as he takes your hands from his face, holding your right while he kisses your left ring finger.

“Marry me.” He whispers, “marry me right now. I don’t care where we do it, or anything about it, but I want you to marry me. I want to call you my wife and take you to races and let you meet everyone—Oscar will adore you just as much as I do—“

You cut off his ramble with a kiss, this time being the one to pull him in. When you break, you grin and wipe saliva off your lip with your thumb, “Is that a good enough yes? Because I also want all of those things.”

“That’s a better yes than any words you could’ve said.” Logan grins and wraps his arms around you and kisses every inch of skin he can reach. And maybe you’re both tipsy, and this is something you’ll have to actually discuss tomorrow, but for now it’s just you, Logan, and a promise. No rings, no witnesses, no evidence of anything other than puffy lips and the looks in your eyes.

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urusername: lo upgraded me to a real ring this time :)

tagged: logansargeant

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[elliebarker]

one of the many. ( e williams )

category: modern!college/university!ellie x female!reader : angst, fluff

summary: after her devastating heartbreak with her first girlfriend in highschool, ellie swore off dating, everything she did was casual, non-committal. that was until you showed up. (basically logan and rory troupe but make it happy)

warnings: alcohol consumption, implied smut, “friends with benefits”, cheating(?), use of the word “baby”, a somewhat copy of rory and logan’s fight, fuck boy!ellie (LMAO I’M SORRY).

word count: 2.1k

it had been almost three years since ellie’s first, and only, breakup with her ex-girlfriend, cat. she was older now, more mature, i mean for god’s sake she was a junior in college she couldn’t still be hung up on some stupid girl from highschool. that is why she had resorted to this. one girl in today, another one tomorrow. no attachments. casual. she was hanging out in a cramped party at her friend's house, sipping something alcoholic, with one, two, girls on her arm, laughing and giggling and tracing their fingers up and down her fore-arm tattoo. she was, enjoying herself, she guessed. the party life wasn’t exactly dull, it was the crowd she was surrounded with, a bunch of drunken girls over-exaggerating their laugh so that she’ll go home with them. she wasn’t opposed to it, if fact she probably needed to let loose and celebrate the compilation of one of her tests, she just hadn’t found the right girl yet. that's when she spotted you. an absolutely gorgeous girl, trying to find your way through the crowd. and she immediately took the opportunity to…introduce… herself.

“hey girl,” ellie said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, her action causing your spaghetti strap to fall slightly lower on your shoulder. “i’m ellie, what’s your name?” she asked and you introduced yourself, pulling your strap back to a more comfortable position, and smiled up at her. fuck it ellie thought i’m just gonna go for it. “wanna get out of here?” she asked, earning a smirk and a cheeky ‘sure’ from you as she led you out of the party’s front door.

ellie woke up and stretched her fingers, sore from last night, to see your body draped in and out of the sheets of her bed, still resting. her heart fluttered a little but she chose to ignore it. she sighed, clearly, you didn’t know how this worked. but it was early, and she had never slept with you before, so she gave you cut slack, she’d find a way to get you up and out of her apartment later. a few minutes passed and your body started to feel the lack of ellie’s presence. you woke up in a dingy bedroom full of music posters and scattered clothes. one pile, of which, being yours. your legs were sore as you stood up and grabbed your clothes off the floor, with a little shame in realizing the reality of your situation. you eventually got up all of your belongings and went to find ellie.

“hey,” you greeted, voice hearse and sleepy, as you walked up behind ellie’s sitting figure in the living room. she was wearing new clothes, jeans and a shirt, layered with a flannel with her hair half up pulled into a lazy barely-ponytail. her eyes racked up your body, hair messy and outfit sagged from it being thrown off the night before. “so, um, do you want my number or? i’m sorry i haven’t really done any of this before…” you stuttered on your words.

“look,” she said getting up from the couch, “i like you,” she began, “i really do. it’s just i’m not really into all that relationship crap, you know? i don’t feel like i should be tied down to someone.” she explained, moving her hand to rub the back of her neck. 

“oh no i get that,” you lied, “i just, was hoping we can still…hang out.” you said, trying to come as casual as you could.

“oh no, definitely,” ellie said, smirking, as she looked you up and down. you kissed her on the check before you said goodbye. and that’s how it was. at least once a week you’d be over at her place, ‘hanging out’. it was nice. nice, until, “hey,” ellie said whilst scrolling through her phone, looking over at you gathering up your clothes, “down to go to a party?” she asked.

“sure!” you said, a smile rising to your face at the anticipation of spending time with ellie, outside the arrangement the two of you had. you went inside ellie’s bathroom, it was small and a little dingy, in order to fix up your hair and get ready to face the outside world. once you were both ready to leave, ellie locked the front door behind her and walked you to her car. it wasn’t until you were both buckled into her car and driving down to some girl’s house with her hand on your thigh that you realized you and ellie would be out together in public for the first time. i mean, sure, you’d see the other girls ellie was hooking up with but she decided to come to the party with you. you. ellie eventually pulled up to a house and slipped out of her car, with you not far behind. it was obvious with the loud music and yelling coming from the white brick house which one would be entering. you slipped through the front door with ellie by your side and went around to make conversation with the few people you knew here. you knew ellie wouldn’t want you clinging to her side the whole night. more than a few moments passed and pop music remixes blared through low-quality speakers all around the house. you did your best to socialize, and decided to look around and find ellie. luckily, she was in sight. on the other side of a heep of sweaty, dancing bodies. you were going to make your way over until an arm stopped you. the arm tan and delicate resting atop ellie’s knee whilst she sat atop the kitchen’s barstool. you felt a green-monster flash of despair, both anger and sadness. of course ellie wasn’t yours, but fuck, did your delusional-ass-self really think you meant something to her? something more than just a girl she fucks? acid rain fell from your eyes as you stormed your way out of the crowded jungle of drunken bodies. time had passed and you’d gone numb. you’d rationalized it. you and ellie weren’t exclusive, you knew that. so why did that girl fucking bother you so much? it wasn’t her fault, of course, she didn’t know. and that's the thing, know what? exactly, nothing. that’s what you were to ellie, nothing, disposable, replaceable. but your whole pissed-off attitude disappeared into a mear thought when she approached you, body lanky and oh so attractive.

“what’s with this whole ignoring me thing?” ellie laughed, leaning against the wall next to you, looking over your pouting frame. you didn’t want to start anything, god knows you didn’t, but the edging creepy feeling of jealousy washed over you.

“what was that?” you asked simply, not-answering her question with another.

“what was what?” she asked, seeming genuinely confused. you sighed, then began again, uttering the first answer to a question since the conversation first started.

“her…” you said, looking around the room for the girl ellie was with earlier, “that…girl…you were all flirty with.”

“oh,” ellie sounded surprised, “that’s dina,” ellie laughed, “another, friend, of mine.”

“friend?” you asked, as if you doubted her use of the word, “that’s what i am?” you asked, jestering to yourself, “a fucking friend?” you saw the gears turning in ellie’s head, the fight or flight kicking in. she composed herself without the slightest reaction that she was ever the least bit scared, to the untrained eye that is.

“yeah.” ellie’s voice grew impatient and angry, as if to say, ‘i don’t have time for your crap’, “that’s what we agreed upon.” ellie moved her hand from her hip to in front of her, “friends.” her stern voice and your overwhelming guilt and regret was building up and you felt tears starting to form in your eyes. you let out a, 

“y’know what? i- i can’t fucking do this,” before your voice could break and left the party, letting you walk yourself home. it wasn’t until you reached the welcoming doors of your bedroom that the tears that were welling in your eyes finally fell. and they fell fast. you sobbed into your pillow all night, so much so, when you woke up your pillow was still damp. you knew you couldn’t do it anymore. you slumped off your bed, and made sure to take care of yourself. you showered, did your skin care, put on something more comfortable. you opened your phone, scrolled to ellie’s contact and pressed ‘call’. there was only one ring until, 

“hello?” she called out your name.

“we need to talk, ellie.”

you walked through the mountains of fall leaves and cold air to reach her apartment. you planted a solid two knocks on her door and she immediately opened the door, you could tell she was nervous. her nails were picked at and her eyes darted everywhere around the room but you. the tension was thick, and you knew you had to settle, or rather end, it.

“ellie, i don’t think we should see each other anymore.” you bluntly stated.

“ugh, c'mon is this about that stupid shit last night? you're still hung up on that?” ellie questioned.

“look it's like you said, you can’t be couple-y with me and i get that it’s just i’m a ‘girlfriend’, ellie, i have ‘girlfriends’ not…friends.” you explained, used your hands to display a pair of air quotes when you pronounced the word friends. “i’m sick of…i’m sick of being one of the many, i can’t do it anymore, that’s it okay? i can’t be your friend anymore, i thought i could be different, but i can’t, i’m sorry.” you huffed out the big speech you’d crafted on your way to her apartment. after an erie second of silence, ellie spoke.

“don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“i get it,” ellie said, rubbing her hands together trying to settle her nerves and her voice at a calm level, “i get what your doing.” ellie accused you.

“i’m not doing anything,” you stated, plainly, confusion written all over your face, wondering where she was going with this.

“if that’s what you want, a…a girlfriend, then just come out and say it okay? don’t make me sit here and worry and feel like i fucked up, don’t make me pace around my apartment, don’t come here saying ‘i can’t see you anymore’ don’t fucking do that! i’ll be your girlfriend? alright? that’s what you're really saying huh?” ellie lectured you.

“that’s not what i’m saying, ellie.” you tried to explain, but she kept going on,

“no, no, but that’s what you mean, don’t you?” she sighed, putting her hands on your waist, “c’mon, i’ll do it”

“what?” you gasped.

“i said i’ll do it, okay?” ellie forcefully stated, “i’ll be your girlfriend, it’s either all or nothing baby.”

“you can’t be my girlfriend,” you pushed her back.

“who says i can’t? huh?” ellie’s hands slithered their way back onto your waist.

“um, you, last night!” you declared, recalling her aggravated tone from the night before.

“oh come on! last night was last night, forget about it, right now is right now and i want, scrap that i need you, don’t– don’t leave me sweet girl.” ellie pleaded, begged you. you placed a hand on your hip in an attempt to display fake confidence.

“you have a hundred girls on speed dial.” you scoffed, disbelieving of this ‘new’ ellie.

“who cares about them? they don’t matter to me.” 

“look,” you began, “i know you, i know your type, commitment is not your thing and that’s fine! non-commitment isn’t mine so it's better if we just go our separate ways.” you turned to leave. ellie’s hands, previously placed on your waist, went up to arm and turned you back around to look at her.

“just let me try,” ellie said, looking deeply genuine, “if i say i can do this, then i can do this.”

“ellie–” she interrupted you calling out her name, with your own.

“do you really want to stop seeing me?”

“no,” you stuttered, “but i can’t–”

“‘cause i don’t wanna stop seeing you.” ellie smiled at you.

“are you sure–?” she cut you off a third time, this time with her lips. waves crashed and goals scored in that moment. her lips, never so delicate until this point, landed on yours and connected each other. it was utterly and absolutely euphoric. her lips were soft, softer than other times you had kissed. and it was then you knew. it was then you both knew. you were the one. she didn’t want anyone else. only you. her girlfriend. and she was finally proud to call you that.

[fandomnerd9602]

Spideypool: guess who?

Gwenpool: we’re back!

A/N: what now?

Gwenpool: just look at the title @fandomnerd9602 !

Rogue x Wolverine!Reader NSFW Headcanons

Rogue never got to experience love before she met you, the son of Wolverine.

You’re the only one who’s not affected by her parasitic touch. She was ecstatic when she realized it. But yet love came naturally for you and her

Rogue is an affectionate lover. She always wants to wrap her arms around you in some way or rub her fingers across your body.

She is a goofy lover. Rogue loves making little quips and jokes as the two of you make love.

Favorite position? Missionary. She loves looking into your eyes and letting you just how good you make her feel. She also revels in knowing that she’s making you feel like heaven.

Another favorite? Against the wall. It’s exciting for her.

Rogue is big on encouraging you, “oh sugah! Keep going! You know the right spots don’t ya? Oh baby you make my heart skip a beat!”

Oral? Big fan of giving and receiving. It’s a mutually loving experience.

Kink? Sensory play. She loves blindfolding you and running a feather across you. Anything soft really. She also loves it when you do it to her.

She has a high drive. Could be attributed to her years without physical contact or maybe that’s just how attracted she is to you.

A big no no? Whips. Rogue is all about love not pain. “There’s enough pain in the world, sugah, I don’t wanna hurt you”

Anna Marie is a gentle lover, preferring to take it slow and steady. She relishes your touch. But she’s not adverse to little fun quickies.

Turn on? When you get all sweaty after a training session with Logan and Colossus. Her smile turns you on.

Favorite body part? You love her thighs. You want them wrapped around your waist or face all day long. Rogue loves your fingers and she loves caressing your claws, she’ll place little kisses to them.

Anna Marie loves falling asleep in your arms after going a couple rounds. It makes her feel safe to be spooning with you. She wants you and only you.

Rogue is a major tease. She’ll steal your shirts and wear them around the Mansion because she knows how her wearing your clothes is a major turn on. Rogue will wiggle her hips or wear the pants that accentuate her body just right and top it off with a wink too.

Rogue is a fairly loud lover in bed. She’ll guide you to the places that make her gasp and scream in euphoria. “Oh sugah!!!” She also laughs a lot too, it’s one of the things you love about her.

Your life with Rogue is full of love, adoration and exploration. There’s no one else you want to grow old with.

Spideypool: aww @fandomnerd9602 you make everything so cute and fluffy

Gwenpool: yeah

A/N: thanks. will you two please leave my house now?!

Spideypool: nah we love crashing on your couch, buddy

A/N: fine

Tags: @ma1egamer @jacelion @deafeningsharkslimeempath @jadenyukiyusakufujikiyutoduelist @iamnicodemus @russianredassassin @revanshand @wombatking @konstantin609

[toppersjeep]

To Love Someone- Logan Sargeant X Reader

Summary: It’s been years since you last saw Logan. He was your best friend then you moved and things change. Now you work in formula one. But you had no idea your childhood best friend also worked in f1. What will happen when you see each other after years.

(Inspired by this song)

Your POV

“Everyone meet Y/N she’ll be our reserve driver this season” Toto said I waved. “It’s great to meet you I’ve heard amazing things” George said. “Nice to meet you too” I said. “Welcome to Mercedes it’s great to have you” Lewis said. “I’m a huge fan oh my goodness” I said.

“I’m honored” Lewis said. “This is amazing” I said. “Did you meet everyone else” George asked. “Well obviously she’s met some drivers” Lewis said. “Ah yeah does everyone know” I said. “Oh Charles wouldn’t shut up about you” George said I smiled.

“Yeah we are hanging out I guess so” I said. “That’s cool he’s a good guy” Lewis said. “Well I think I’m gonna go meet everyone else” I said smiling. I then walked to Ferrari to find Charles.

“Look who it is” Charles said I hugged him. “Hi” I said. “You look good in Mercedes wear” Charles said. “And you in your racing suit” I said. “Oh do I” Charles said. “I was hoping to meet the grid wanna introduce me” I said. “Of course my love let’s go” Charles said holding my hand.

He showed me around and introduced me to everyone. Even some of the marshals and people who helped with different things.

“Wow this is all unreal like” I said. “Better than me explaining it huh” Charles said. “I mean I’ve been to races but never around each paddock” I said. “Is it everything you hoped” Charles said.

“It’s amazing char” I said. He kissed my cheek. “Last is Williams you know Alex but I’ll introduce you to his teammate” Charles said as we walked in together. “Y/N hey” Lily said.

“Lils I missed you” I said. “Keeping her in line Charles” Lily asked. “I think she keeps me in check” Charles said. “He’s been showing me around” I said. “What a nice guy” Lily said. “Mmmh.. I might keep him” I said.

“I’d like to keep you too” Charles said kissing me. “Ew gross get a room” Alex said walking over. “Alex nice to see you” I said. “Oh right my teammate come out and meet the new driver” Alex said. “I’m coming” someone yelled from the hallway.

As soon as he came around the corner I knew. Logan Sargent. After all these years I had finally seen him again. My best friend. Well used to be best friend.

“Y/N” Logan said. “Logan no way” I said. “You two know each other” Alex said. “Remember that story I told you about the girl who used to race me” Logan said. “Oh yeah the girl who’d race you and you guys got in trouble” Alex said.

“The one who beat you at every race that’s you Y/N” Charles asked. “Yeah Logan and I grew up together” I said. “Wow that’s cool Logan” Alex said. “I haven’t seen you in years you look great” Logan said I smiled. “Y.. yeah you too” I said.

“Well that made my job easier for me” Alex said. “Yeah mine too wanna go back to Ferrari with me love” Charles said putting a hand on my back. “Love” Logan said looking at me.

“Yeah she’s the girl Charles talks about Logan.. the one he’s obsessed with” Alex said. “Oh right the girl you said you’d let drive your Ferrari” Logan said. “Only cause I beat him in a race” I said. “I gave you a head start” Charles said.

“Still” I said. “Well I’m glad to see you” Logan said. “Yeah it’s nice” I said. “Wanna head back” Charles said. “Yeah” I said.

We walked back to the Ferrari paddock.

“So just friends you guys were right” Charles said. “Yeah I mean we went to prom as friends” I said. “But there was nothing more” Charles said. “No I moved after graduation and that was it” I said.

“I just got this vibe from him” Charles said. I kissed Charles. “Did you catch that vibe Charles see eyes for you” I said. “Good” Charles said.

Later..

I went up to the rooftop pool of the hotel because I couldn’t sleep. Charles managed to be asleep so I snuck out. Late night swims always fixed everything.

I set my towel on a chair and took my sandals off. I had grabbed Charles button up to throw on over my suit. So I took it off and jumped in the pool.

I came back up and swam to the edge to see Logan sitting there.

“Jesus Lo I thought I was alone” I said. “No I couldn’t sleep so I like to watch the sky sometimes” Logan said. “Yeah I remember” I said. “Then I saw you so I figured you couldn’t sleep” Logan said. “You know me” I said.

“So .. uhh Charles” Logan said making a face. “What’s that face for” I said. “It’s just.. Charles is .. a player you know” Logan said. “I knew that before I started seeing him” I said. “So your what” Logan said. “I don’t need to label things” I said.

“Sleeping with him” Logan said. “That’s not your place to ask” I said swimming away from the edge of the pool. “You know you can do better” Logan said walking along the side of the pool. “Please don’t start with that” I said.

“What’s gonna happen when he doesn’t wanna be with you” Logan said. “Logan we are simply seeing each other.. if I want to date him I can” I said. “There’s better people” Logan said. “Like who .. what you.. or Carlos or Lando” I said he stayed silent. “Exactly Logan don’t tell me who to be with” I said.

“Y/N.. you left and I never forgot you I thought about you for months afterwards” Logan said. I got out of the pool and grabbed my towel. “Years even I tried to forget you I did” Logan said. “We were just best friends Logan that’s all” I said putting Charles shirt back on.

“You and I both know that’s not all” Logan said. “Friends Logan that’s all” I said. “You left and I just saw you everywhere” Logan said. “And I kept thinking about what I’d say if I saw you again” Logan said. “I’m sorry I left okay it was my family not me” I said.

“But now your back and I need to say this” Logan said. “Logan I’m not in the mood for this” I said. “I didn’t realize what we had till you left” Logan said. “What we had was a friendship a close friendship” I said. “Y/N I’m in love with you” Logan said.

“Stop” I said. “I have been for so long do you have any idea .. what it’s like to love someone” Logan said. “And not be able to see them” Logan said. “I.. do and I can’t do this Logan” I said walking away. “I love you I always have.. for years” he said grabbing my hand. I didn’t look at him.

“Don’t” I said walking away from him. I then went back to my hotel room. I shut the door and stood there resting my head on the door.

“chéri.. what are you doing up” Charles said hugging me from behind I jumped. “Oh I’m sorry love I didn’t mean to scare you” he said resting his head on my shoulder.

“No it’s okay” I said softly. “Your so cold..” he said kissing my cheek. “I went for a swim I couldn’t sleep” I said. “Wanna go relax together” Charles said. “Yeah just let me change” I said he went back to lay down. I changed into his shirt and my shorts. I then laid back in bed with him.

He wrapped his arms around me. He then kissed my cheek. I just looked at the wall. All I could think about is what Logan said about Charles.

What was this?

Does he love me?

“Char” I said. “What’s on your mind” Charles said. “Do you love me” I said. He didn’t say anything to me. “I do” Charles said. “Are you sure” I said sitting up. “What’s this about” Charles said. “I just wanted to know what we are” I said.

“..Y/N I love you” Charles said cupping my cheek. “You do” I said. “Yes.. I do and we are together I don’t care what anyone else says” Charles said. “So.. then this is official” I said he smiled. “I guess so” Charles said.

But I still couldn’t stop thinking about Logan. Even if I did love Charles too. Part of me wanted Logan too.

___

Part 2??

[littlexscarletxwitch]

hello.

Could you please write Florence fic where there is a wedding with reader. Them getting ready them the ceremony where they say the vows and their family and friends make beautiful speeches. I love these kind of scenarios. And also the wedding dance. Where Y/N and Flo are all cute and smiley and adorable. Thank you so so so much.

(also would it be possible if reader wore wedding suit, if not it's completely okay, just my preference)

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, cute, flo and r get married yay

warning(s): just a really cure wedding (?), grammatical errors, unedited, rusty writing

word count: 1.7k

note: I am a liar, all I do is lie, shame on me. But really I have been busy, life is kicking my butt. But who's suffering more? Me, a 19 (almost 20) year old student with a job and finals to prepare; or Logan Sargeant who just can't drive the Williams (lol). Thank you for all the love I have been receiving even though I am not as active as I used to. I love you, M <3

note 2: Also, the Yelena new photos. God is a woman, and she is Florence Pugh as Yelena Belova.

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

You thought that when the time came, you would be a bundle of nerves. 

But with just one look at your reflection in the mirror, you felt like this is what you had been waiting for your whole life. That exciting feeling, but not nerves at all, was crawling up to your whole body. You were eager to take this new step in your life. 

Marrying Florence just felt as natural as breathing. No second guessings, no doubts, nothing. You just couldn’t wait for the best night of your life to start and share it with your loved ones.

A knock startled your train of thoughts. 

“We are ready when you are,” Raffie said, unable to contain her smile. 

“I’ve been ready for almost three years now,” you chuckled, getting a last look at the mirror, making sure your wedding suit was in perfect shape. 

You thought you would be edgy while walking down the aisle, but once again you were wrong. Normally, all those people looking at you would make you all flustered and stressed out. But as you looked around, you could feel the love your family and friends had for you and Florence that it was hard to be nervous at all.

Your mum and dad, each, left a kiss on your cheeks wishing you the best and leaving you at the altar, waiting for your other half.

The moment your eyes lied on Florence you felt your tummy shrink into a knot. She always took your breath away, but now, walking toward you, wearing the most magnificent white dress felt like falling in love with her even more, if that was possible. 

As she kissed her mum and dad goodbye and stood next to you, your brain was still trying to find the right words and all you could do was mutter out incomprehensible words, making her laugh at you. 

“I take it you like it?”

“Do I like it? It’s pure perfection,” you looked at her with heart-shaped eyes. “I mean… I would like it even more off, but we’ll get to that later, right?” you muttered the last part, but everyone on the front rows heard you loud and clear, making them chuckle.

Someone clearing their throat caught your attention. 

“We are all gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Florence and Y/n,” he started.

“There’s no need to be so formal, Tobs,” Florence chuckled as her brother began his duties as the wedding officer.

He completely ignored her and continued on, “I never thought I would see the day that one of the humans I care most in this world would be getting married, but here we are,” he said with a smile on his face. “And I can't believe that person is marrying my little sister,” he joked. “Seriously, Y/n, now is the time to turn back.”

You felt your nerves washing away by laughter as Florence gave Toby the death glare, making everyone in the room laugh as well.

“Okay, I’m done with the jokes. But in all seriousness, I couldn’t be happier for the two of you. Alright, enough with my words, I believe you two have your own vows, right? Flor, care to go first?”

The blonde nodded to her brother and got her eyes on your frame, as she took your hands in between hers, she began her speech.

“It’s funny, you know. When I sat down to write this, I thought I would have so much to say to you,” she said as her eyes got watery. “But not really,” your heart sank at her words, you were not expecting that. “You see, there are not enough words to express my feelings toward you,” she cleared her throat to stop the lump from forming. “There really isn't. But because you mean everything to me, I’ll try to put it into words. You are the air in my lungs, the blood running through my veins, the atoms that make me. You are just my other half, my better half. And I genuinely believe I couldn’t live without you. So, today I completely give myself to you, knowing that you will take me.”

You were a crying mess, sobbing so hard that Toby had to hand you some tissues. 

“I love you so much, Y/n. I couldn’t be happier that I get to call you mine.”

“Fuck,” you muttered as you wiped away your tears. “Did I ruin my make-up?” you asked, turning to your family making them laugh once again.

“That was… actually really sweet, Flor. Gob job,” Toby congratulated his sister. “Now, Y/n, it’s your turn to make us all cry.”

“I should've gone first, there is no way I am beating that up,” you joked. You cleared your throat. “So, when Florence and I met, believe it or not, we kinda hated each other,” everyone in the room gasped. “Yeah, I know, it’s crazy. Turns out we were just horny.”

“Y/n!” Florence gently smacked you.

“Okay, no. That’s a lie, I was the horny one,” you laughed. “But either way, it doesn’t change the fact that the moment I had a piece of you, the real you, I just couldn't get enough. You intoxicated me, you were a drug and I became an addict depending on you. You still have that power over me and you will have it until the day that I die. And it’s funny because, I used to believe I disliked you, but then I realised you were just so easy to love. Loving you is like breathing, I don’t think about it, I just do. And I know that if I ever stop loving you, it’s because I stopped breathing. And all I want to do, until that day comes, is to love you as if I was taking my last breath,” you squeezed her hands to which she muttered, afraid the words wouldn’t come out of her lips properly, an ‘I love you’ with tears running down her cheeks.

“That was really sweet, too,” Toby said, wiping away a tear. “So,” he said once he gathered himself, “with that being said. I declared, the two of you, married,” you and Florence couldn't contain your smiles. “You may kiss the… oh, you two are already at it,” Toby interrupted himself as he saw Florence kissing your lips like her life depended on it. And, maybe, it did.

[...]

Someone clicking their fork to their champagne glass caught both Florence’s and your attention, your heart sank with excitement as you watched your parents trying to get everyones’ attention. 

“Good evening, everyone,” your mum started. “We just couldn’t stop ourselves,” she chuckled. 

“We won’t tell you about Y/n’s embarrassing moments, that’s for the bridesmaid,” your dad joked as he winked at you. “But we do have some words for both of you,” he smiled at you and your wife. 

“We just wanted to say thank you, to you Florence. Our baby has never looked this happy and it is all because of you, and as parents we couldn't be more thankful for that,” your mum said. “There’s not a single day that she goes by without a smile, and you are the reason behind that smile. So, thank you.”

You took a quick look at Florence, and her eyes were already watery, once again. She could only nod at her, since she believed no words would come out of her lumped throat.

“And, Y/n, baby. We are so happy you found someone as amazing as Florence. As your dad, it gives me peace of mind knowing that you get to share the rest of your life with her, since she’s just everything I could ever dream for you.”

You mouthed and ‘I love you’ to your parents, with glassy eyes. 

“If I may add,” Flor’s dad chimed in. “We also have something we want to say,” he chuckled as he gestured to his wife to get up with him as well. “I believe you've already heard this a million times already, Y/n. But, Deb and I just can't stress this enough. We are delighted for you to be part of our ‘little’ family.”

“We love you as if you were one of our own, Y/n. And it just means the word that you love our baby girl just as much as we do,” Deborah, Florence’s mum, said to you. “So, here’s to the newly married couple,” she said, raising her glass as everyone followed suit. 

“Wait!” you heard someone scream. “I also want to say,” your best friend and bridesmaid said. “This isn’t part of the bridesmaid’s speech, but I just couldn’t miss the opportunity,” she made the whole room chuckled. “I’ve known Y/n pretty much my entire life. Where she went I would follow and where I went I just had to look over my shoulder and I knew she would be there. The thing is, you and I, we had been through thick and thin,” she said looking at you. “And now, it’s your freaking wedding day. I couldn’t be prouder and happier for you, Y/n. Florence might be your other half, but you know you and I are the same. And I am just so relieved that you have found her, someone who sees and loves you for who you are,” she smiled at the both of you. “So, finally, here’s to the newly married couple.”

Everyone cheered as they drank from their champagne glass. 

“Okay, enough with the cheesy speeches for the moment,” you heard Raffie, pretty much taking over the schedule of the wedding as Florence’s bridesmaid. “It’s time for the wedding waltz,” the little Pugh looked at you and Florence and gestured for the two of you to do your part.

“Shall we?” you said, sticking out your hand for Florence to take, wiping away your tears as Florence did the same.

“Yes, we shall,” she couldn't contain the smile forming on her lips.

“It’s perfect, isn’t it?” you muttered into her ear as she led the dance, like she always would.

“Yeah, it’s more than perfect,” she said, snuggling into you. “You know, this is it, right? No turning back, you heard Toby.”

“Yep, loud and clear. But I wouldn't change it for anything in the word,” you kissed her neck. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[brookheimer]

Roman at Logan’s funeral: All right. Okay, here we go. Let’s do this. Here I am, Roman Roy, doing a eulogy, let’s go. Logan Roy, who was he? What was his deal? Well, he was a man. Uh, he was born in 1938. He died in 2023. One time, he went to a parade, and one time, he smoked an entire cigarette in one long inhale. I watched him do it. Truly a remarkable man. Lived a full life, that guy. Just, all the way to the end, which is, uh, now I guess. Really makes you think, though, huh? Life, right? Goes by, stuff happens. Then you die. Okay, well that’s my time, you’ve been great! Tip your waitress! No, I’m just kidding around, there’s no waitress. Now what? I don’t know. [to the coffin] Dad, you got any ideas? Anything? Dad? No? Nothing to contribute? Knock once if you’re proud of me. [silence] Can I just say how amazing it is to be in a room with my father, and I can just talk and talk without him telling me to shut up and fuck off? Hey, Dad, knock once if you think I should shut up. No? You sure? I mean, I don’t want to embarrass you by making this eulogy into a me-logy, so, seriously, if you wanted me to sit down and let someone else talk, just knock. I will not be offended. [silence] No? Your funeral. Sorry about the closed casket, by the way. He wanted an open casket, but uh, you know, he’s dead now, so who cares what he wanted? No, that sounds bad. I’m sorry. I-I think that if he could’ve seen what he looked like dead, he’d agree it’s better this way. [clears throat] Here’s a story. When I was a teenager, I performed a comedy routine for my high school talent show. There was this, uh, cool jacket that I wanted to wear because I thought it would make me look like Albert Brooks. For months, I had wanted this jacket. But when I went to the store it was gone. They had just sold it to someone else. So, I went home and I told my father, and he said, “Let that be a lesson. That’s the good that comes from wanting things.” He was really good at dispensing life lessons that always seemed to circle back to everything being my fault. But then, on the day of the talent show, my father had a surprise for me. He had bought me the jacket. Even though he didn’t know how to say it, I know this meant that he loved me. Now that’s a good story about my father. It’s not true, but it’s a good story, right? I stole it from an episode of Maude I saw when I was a kid, where she talks about her father. I remember when I saw it, thinking, “That’s the kind of story I want to tell about my parents when they die.” But I don’t have any stories like that. All I know about being good, I learned from TV. And in TV, flawed characters are constantly showing people they care with these surprising grand gestures. And I think that part of me still believes that’s what love is. But in real life, the big gesture isn’t enough. You need to be consistent, you need to be dependably good. When you’re a kid, you convince yourself that maybe the grand gesture could be enough, that even though your parents aren’t what you need them to be over and over and over again, at any moment, they might surprise you with something… wonderful. I kept waiting for that, the proof that even though my father was a hard man, deep down, he loved me and cared about me and wanted me to know that I made his life a little bit brighter. Even now, I find myself waiting. Hey, Dad, knock once if you love me and care about me and want me to know I made your life a little bit brighter. [silence] My dad would hate it if he knew that I spent so much time at his funeral talking about myself. Or maybe he’d think it was funny that his idiot son couldn’t even do this right. Who knows? He left no instructions for what he wanted me to say. All I know is he wanted an open casket, and his idiot son couldn’t even do that right. I’m not gonna stand up here and pretend I ever understood how to please that man, even though so much of my life has been wasted in vain attempts to figure it out.

[hogwartsandhawkins]

Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 13: The 13th

If you need to catchup, here's the masterlist.

Summary: Watching a horror movie with Billy goes better than expected

Warnings: Cursing, Slight angst for a millisecond, Mentions of blood and gore (from the movie they watch), mentions of death (again from the movie). As always let me know if I missed something.

Word Count:4k

Author's note: Sorry this post came late loves! My son got sick so that was fun to take care of. But good news, because I slacked you guys get two chapters this weekend 🤗

Also, as someone who also isn't a big horror fan, I watched this movie as homework and surprisingly, completely straight-faced this entire movie. Guess Billy's right, it was kind of cheesy 😂

Billy climbed his way to Jess’s bedroom with ease this time. With the knowledge that Jess’s parents were not directly below her, he took less care about whether or not he was silent and instead jumped quickly from the trash can to the last quoins, lifting himself over the gutters where he found himself once again in front of her draped covered window. He tapped the glass lightly and was immediately met by a still annoyed Jess opening the pane and quickly walking away. She was now wearing a faded cheer sweatshirt and a pair of cloth shorts. He looked over at the sickly green atrocity that held her TV just above her bed level, the VHS sitting on top of it. Her bed was littered with snacks, some from the store and some that she seemed to have provided herself, Billy taking note of the stack of brownies, which he hoped were as good as last time he snuck into her room. 

She seemed to be pacing before he got there and was continuing to do so as he arrived. “Please tell me you’re not serious about wanting to be here for Christmas.” 

“Doesn’t really look like that’s up to me. What? You don’t want me over? Where’s your holiday spirit, princess?” Before he knew it, a Charleston Chew bar hit him in the chest. 

“For once, be serious. Steve is gonna be there. And I don’t want to deal with the two of you bickering like an old married couple.” 

Billy picked up the candy bar and tossed it back on the bed, grinning to himself. “I’ll behave if he does.” 

Jess stopped pacing and turned to him. “Right, because he’s the one I should be worried about.” Jess recalled earlier today how Billy purposefully blew smoke in Steve’s face right before successfully irritating Steve with the thought of him spending all winter break with her. 

Billy walked over to the side of the bed he usually sat on and pushed the assortment of food to the other side and sat down, kicking off his shoes as he did so. He sucked in his cheek and bit down, contorting his mouth in a downward smirk. “Don’t gotta worry about me, sweetheart. I’ll be an absolute angel. Call it an early Christmas gift.” 

Jess considered his promise for a moment, her eyes traveling from his smile to his eyes, which gave off a hint of playfulness but no level of insincerity. “I always have to worry about you,” she huffed before settling down on the opposite side of the bed, pushing snacks closer to Billy. 

“That’s cute of you,” Billy teased before eyeing the cans of beer that were at the foot of her bed. He leaned forward and grabbed the pack, twisting a can out of the plastic ring that held it secure to the other five. He swiftly cracked it open and took a swig from it, earning him another annoyed glance from Jess. “What? You want one, Logan?” 

“Absolutely not.”

“Why? You’re cute when you’re drunk.” 

The mention of her being intoxicated began to stir the memories from that last weekend, how she spent the majority of her night with Billy, and how that night ended. She began to feel light-headed from the memory of how close she stood to him towards the end of that song, how she was practically leaning against him for support. She was brought back to reality by the bed shifting, Billy placing the remaining five cans underneath her bed. “Let’s get this show on the road, princess. Not tryna keep you up all night…” 

Jess shoved him, making his beer slosh. 

“Aye watch it…” 

She made her way toward her TV, taking her time to put the VHS in, not in a hurry to start hiding under her covers the whole time. She looked over the cover, “Friday the 13th, The Final Chapter…” Jess scoffed, placing the tape in the player. “Billy, I swear if this is as bad as the first one-“ She was quickly cut off by the tape being played where it was last on, causing Jess to jump at the sight of Jason killing the hitchhiker on the side of the road. 

“Oohhh shit!” Billy laughed out, taking another sip of his beer before swinging his legs off the bed and quickly making his way to where Jess was standing. He watched her close her eyes, turning away from the TV as the ominous music played. “Go back to the bed, princess, I got it.” He squatted down, pressing the rewind button on the VCR as he stared down the TV, waiting til he heard a click, indicating it was done. 

He turned back around to find Jess already underneath her blanket, the top of it bunched up by her mouth with her hands. He smirked down at her, able to see her eyes squint up at him in irritation. “Don’t worry, it’s honestly not that bad. I chose the cheesiest one of the two. Promise.” He chuckled as he made his way to her light switch, flipping it off, and began to sit back down on his side of the bed, deciding to take a brownie as adjusted himself back against the headboard. 

Jess’s glare softened as he joined her on the bed. “You’ve seen this before?” Billy only nodded, turning his head to the side to look over at her, smiling for a moment before looking back over at the screen. 

They stayed that way as the movie started, Jess bunching the blanket over her face, Billy smiling to himself as he continued to look over at her, sipping his beer contently. Billy felt the blanket shift suddenly, suggesting to him that the sight of Jason’s hand falling free from the stretcher startled her. He bit down into his brownie and smirked to himself, swallowed, and then turned to look back at her once more. “If it makes you feel better, Logan, we’re not out camping right now so it can’t happen to us.”

“Yeah. Great. Thanks.”

Billy chuckled out loud, looking down at the load of snacks that separated the two of them, silently cursing the barrier as he sat up straighter. He picked up the Charleston Chew that was thrown at him and tossed it on her lap. 

“Eat a candy bar, you’ll feel better.” 

Jess smiled lightly, grabbing the bar from her lap and slowly unwrapping it, not taking her eyes off the screen, lifting her knees to her chest. Billy continued to look from the snacks to her, watching the way the shifting lights from the screen illuminated her features, the way she cautiously bit into her snack, pausing with it still in her mouth when she was preparing for something that could possibly scare her. He continued to smile to himself as he noticed the way she squinted her left eye more than her right when she braced for oncoming jump scares and the way she slowly began to relax more throughout the movie. When they watched the hitchhiker get stabbed for the second time that night, Billy finally summoned the courage to start moving the snacks. 

The rustling of the wrappers being moved made Jess finally remove her eyes from the screen and look over at the cause of the noise. He moved the bags of chips to the nightstand closest to him, along with the baked goods, seeing as he was the only one eating those, leaving the assorted candy bars where they were for Jess. 

“What’re you doin’?” 

“Making more room.” Billy shrugged as he coolly answered. He then playfully tossed the rest of the candy onto her lap when she didn’t make a move to remove them from the middle of the bed. “Think those belong to you.”

“Yeah, so did those-” She was now pointing at the Doritos that Billy had already moved, but then quickly shifted back her attention toward the TV when she heard a twig snap. “Oh, don’t walk alone…” 

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t die. Yet.”

“Billy…” He only laughed in response but stopped immediately when she looked more annoyed than scared. 

“Hey, I’m just kidding.” He scooted inches closer to her, the snacks no longer blocking his way. When she didn’t say anything in response, he offered, “You want me to turn it off?” He continued to look down at her, his tone was serious and softer than it had been tonight, which caused Jess to look up at him. 

She furrowed her eyebrows at the sight of him and then began to shake her head. “No…” She then looked back at the TV for only a moment, “I guess you’re right, it’s not as bad as I thought it was gonna be.” When she turned to face him again, she noticed the smirk he was now giving her and rolled her eyes. 

“See what happens when you try new things, Logan?”

“It’s still bad,” she rebutted. “And by the way. I do watch horror movies. I just don’t like them.”

“Whatever you say, gorgeous.” He then reached for the Dorito bag that he placed on top of the nightstand and moved it to the opposite side of Jess, where it wasn’t separating the two of them, making it a point to reach behind her as he did so. When the chips were secured next to her, he allowed his hand to linger longer than needed before resting his arm above the pillow she was leaning against. He cracked his knuckles nervously, his arm tensing up every time Jess shifted. 

Get it together, Hargrove. He cursed himself, attempting to look down at her without her noticing, but she was too busy noticing the way her body burned at the close proximity to his, attempting to free herself from the blanket without making it too obvious it was now causing her to overheat. When she could have sworn she was beginning to sweat, she jumped up suddenly. 

“Bathroom…” was all she said, assuming the word would explain itself. 

Billy sucked in before clearing his throat. “You want me to pause it?”

“God no,” she laughed out, exiting the room before the TV became too bright and he was able to see the strong blush that she knew currently covered her entire face. Billy chugged what remained of his now warm beer once Jess was clear of the room, hoping maybe it would loosen him up slightly. But unfortunately, he knew it would take a lot more than one beer to do that, and he would definitely like to stay sober while he was with her, at least in her bedroom. 

When he heard footsteps reappear in the hallway, a mischievous grin appeared on his face as he got up from the bed and walked to the door just as she opened it, grabbing her hips as he scared her, believing all she would do was jump. When she let out a loud, short scream, however, he quickly widened his eyes and placed his hand over her mouth, chuckling quietly.

“Shit, Logan.”

Jess smacked his chest, causing Billy slowly to take his hand off of her face. 

“Dammit, Billy, if my parents heard me…” She was answered by the sound of a door creaking open and the shuffle of footsteps. She pushed Billy further into her room as she stepped back into the hallway and found Stan at the bottom of the stairs. 

“You okay, kid?” 

“Uh. Yeah. Just watching some stupid scary movie. Sorry.” She looked back into her bedroom for only a moment, but enough to see Billy’s smirk growing on his face. 

Stan Logan gave her a strained look, but then shrugged his shoulders and turned away from the stairs, “Keep it down next time kid, it’s the middle of the night.” 

“Sorry,” she then turned to look back at Billy before she continued, “It won’t happen again.” 

She made it back into her room and shut the door behind her, refusing to break eye contact. “You absolute asshole!” she hissed, picking up another uneaten candy bar and chucking it at him, which he easily swatted away as he laughed, attempting to be quieter. 

“How was I supposed to know you’d scream like that?” 

“It’s like you want to get me into trouble.” She shook her head in exasperation, but when Billy could only laugh at the incident, it caused her to break into a smile as well, which she attempted to hold back once it appeared. “It’s not funny!” Her giggling, however, said otherwise, and she rolled her eyes once more, plopping down on her bed as Billy sprawled out on his side, now taking the candy that was thrown at him and opening it for himself. 

The sound of glass breaking made both of them turn their heads back to the screen as they watched some poor girl get thrown from the top story onto a car by Jason, making Jess cringe. 

“So they’re just all dying at once now, huh?” 

“Typically how it goes,” Billy answered, biting into the candy bar and quickly swallowing, “Surprised she didn’t survive that.”

“She was thrown out of a window!” 

Billy just shrugged nonchalantly, “Eh, the car cushioned her fall.” Billy then turned back and smiled at her, taking another bite. 

“The car cushioned-“ Instead of finishing this sentence, she shook her head in disbelief and began laughing even harder. “You’re insane.”

“I’d survive that fall.”

“Sure you would, tough guy.” 

Billy scooted his way closer as they continued watching the movie, making the excuse that Jess was ‘hogging the chips’. Jess stopped feeling the need to shield herself from the jump scares and gory scenes as Billy continued to make jokes and ridicule how each character handled the situation, making her laugh as if she were watching a comedy. By the end of the movie, Billy was practically leaning against Jess as he continued to eat more chips than he wanted. 

“So what did you think, princess? Not that bad huh?” 

Jess shook her head slowly. “No, not that bad.” 

Billy beamed at her then tapped her leg with his hand before climbing over her, swinging his legs off her side of the bed, and heading to the door. 

“Bathroom’s this way, right?” He asked as he pointed in the right direction. 

“Yes, just please be quiet.”

“You got it, Princess.”

While he was gone, Jess took the time to remove the wrappers and crumbs from her bed, getting back under the covers as Billy was reentering the room. 

“Alright, Logan.” He climbed over her again to make it to his side of the bed and then sprawled out, laying his head on one of the pillows, “Goodnight.”

“You think so, huh?” 

“What?” He then looked at her with feigning surprise. “You wanna sleep all by yourself tonight? I guess you’re a big girl after all.”

“Shut up.”

Billy relaxed against the pillow he was lying on and moved his gaze to the ceiling and quickly changed the subject. “So have you seen the other ones?”

“Just the first one. Like I said, I’m not into scaring myself for fun.”

“You know what that means…” Billy nudged her side as he continued staring up, the solid blue light from the screen softly illuminating the room. “We gotta go on a marathon.” 

“That is not what that means,” Jess responded, also settling into bed, lifting the covers so that it barely covered her chin.

“I thought you said it wasn’t that bad,” he teased, shifting his head so he could look at her. Her eyes met his, rolling to the side before looking back at him, peering at him through her eyelashes, making Billy feel as if his chest would explode if he didn’t look away. Despite his whole body pleading with him to turn away, he kept his eyes fixed on hers as he continued. “I’ll tell you what,” he smiled deviously at her, “we switch off. You show me one of your lame chick flicks, and then we’ll watch the first Friday movie, yeah?” 

“First of all,” Jess pulled the covers back down to her chest so she could prop herself up with her elbow, “they’re not lame, and second, I’ve already seen the first one.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem to see it again.” Billy continued to stare at her, challenging her to accept. He also moved to incline himself, taking his pillow and folding it in half. 

“Fine. But after Friday the 13th, we’re done with horror movies.”

“Unless I make you like them.” Billy widened his smile, opening his mouth a bit to allow his tongue to run along the bottom row of his teeth. 

“Yeah right,” Jess scoffed, scrunching her eyebrows in disbelief.

“You seemed to like this one just fine.

“That’s only because you’re-“ She stopped abruptly, not allowing herself to finish that sentence, but when she looked over the expression Billy was making, the way his smile dropped and his eyes squinted, she knew she had to say something. “It’s only because you were making fun of it.”

Billy’s smile returned, but not as wide as it was earlier. “Then I’ll make sure to do the same thing next time.” He winked at her, settling into his folded pillow as he listened to her complain about how much she was going to hate this upcoming movie marathon, and how scared she was to watch the other two she hadn’t seen yet. But he knew better. He had watched how comfortable she had gotten after the first 30 minutes, watched how her shoulders stopped tensing. He liked to think he maybe had something to do with it, or maybe it was just the fact that he did pick the corniest movie out of the two. 

He wondered what would have happened if he had picked a different movie, a more frightening one. Would she have cowered under her blanket the whole time? Would she have cowered behind him? He quickly shook the ‘what ifs’ away. He knew that’s not how he wanted this night to go. He didn’t want to be the default guy she cuddled next to, didn’t want her to feel like she had to get close to him. This was the same reason he didn’t fight Steve about taking her home so early into the party. And he knew this was why he chose this franchise of horror movies to introduce her to. 

He continued to listen to her talk about all the movies she would make him watch. She figured she might show him the Star Wars movies since he was so adamant about making her watch a franchise as well, which he just scoffed at, but he knew watching some weird sci/fi films wouldn’t be the worst thing ever if it were with her. 

They continued changing topics for hours, whether it be about movies, school, and again about California until the conversation moved to the party that was being thrown on New Year’s Eve. 

“You’re going right?” 

“If Steve goes, yeah.”

“Why does it matter if Steve goes? You didn’t even hang out with him last time.”

“Steve happens to be my ride. And plus, I normally hang out with him. He was just busy last time.”

“Yeah, I saw,” Billy replied bitterly, “You forget I have a car or something?”

Jess looked at him interrogatively, “You’d want to take me?”

“If you need a ride, I can give you a ride.”

“That’s not what I was asking.” 

“Sounds like what you were asking.”

Jess sucked in and sighed, folding her pillow in half as well now and laying into it as her eyes started to get heavy. “I mean,” she paused for a moment, knowing exactly what she meant, just not how to say it, “I mean… everyone’s gonna be there. And everyone’s gonna see you taking me to this party. It’s not just you taking me to school anymore.” 

“And?”

“You want people to see me in your car?”

Billy shook his head and chuckled sarcastically, “Seems like you’re the one who’s worried about it, not me.”

“No that’s not…” Jess began to backtrack but paused. He was right, she was worried about it, but not in the way that he thought. It was when Billy began to get up that she started to speak again. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s hella late, and I’m falling asleep.” He began to grab for his jacket that was on the floor next to his side of the bed, holding it at his side as he turned to face Jess again. “Look, if you don’t want me to give you a ride, then I won’t, that’s all you had to say. You don’t need to go into some lame excuse about how I don’t want to-“

“That’s not what I meant...” Billy stood there, continuing to look at her, finally shrugging his shoulders, exaggerating the movement as to tell her to keep going. “It’s just. Your friends don’t like me, okay? And I already had trouble when you first started taking me to school and-“

“Who gave you trouble?” Billy quickly interrupted, seemingly unamused by this bit of information. 

“That’s not the point nor does it matter…” She sighed one last time, “The point is, I don’t want to be the talk of the school again, especially if your friends are the ones doing the talking.”

Billy took this into consideration, nodding as she finished, he then looked down at the ground, pondering what to say next, and looked back at her. “You know, Carol’s just bitter you don’t talk to her anymore. She doesn’t hate you.”

“That’s not really the vibe I get.”

“So who’s giving you trouble then, because I know it’s not Carol, she talks but she wouldn’t come at you directly. And Tommy really couldn’t give a shit.” Billy tossed his jacket down again and sat back on the bed, folding his left leg under him as his right hung off the edge. 

“Who do you think?” When Billy continued to stare at her, just about ordering her to give him an answer with the raise of his eyebrows, she scoffed, “Your girlfriend, that’s who.” 

Billy began to shake his head, laughing coldly at the news. “Which one?” he teased before releasing his downturned smirk, “Next time just tell her to fuck off.”

“I did.”

Billy nudged her lightly, conveying his approval. “That’s my girl.”

“It doesn’t make it any more fun though.”

“Getting to tell Jane to fuck off isn’t fun?”

Jess laughed at this, nodding her head in agreeance. “I meant the being talked about part.”

“Yeah, well, fuck ‘em.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? ‘Fuck ‘em’?”

“I’m starting to.” Billy drew a short, loud breath threw his nose, nodding slowly as he turned away from her for a moment. “It took me a while to get there but… yeah. Fuck ‘em all.” 

Jess giggled at this statement, relaxing her shoulders at the thought of not having a care in the world of what others thought. “So is that why you’re such an asshole?” Jess teased, earning a snort from Billy. 

“Nah,” Billy paused, staring at the foot of her bed, “No that’s not why…” He then tilted his head to look over at her, the light from the screen casting still shadows on her face. He smiled more to himself than at her before lying back down on the pillow that was now partially unfolded.

“I thought you were tired?”

“I am,” he said flatly. 

“I thought you were leaving?”

“That’s because I was irritated, and now I’m not.” When she didn’t respond he tilted his head and asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No…” she whispered suddenly. 

“Good. Because I don’t want to either.”

Taglist: @nix-rose @fandom-princess-forevermore @ooo---hazelgrimm---ooo @axionn @defenslessheart-main @the-lost-are-ignored

[suzy-queued]

A Gallavich tale, told 100 words at a time.

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

A man jumped into the back seat of Ian’s car.

“You a driver?” Dark hair, one small piece of luggage.

“Yeah, only if you’re registered on the app.”

“Screw the app. Take me to Nashville.”

Ian choked on his Gatorade. “That’s eight hours from here.”

“So?”

“You gotta plan these things out. Get matched with the right driver.”

“It’s not like I knew that my fucking boyfriend was gonna run off to fucking Yee-Haw Land to elope with my sworn enemy.”

Ian checked the rearview and saw pain behind those angry blue eyes. He switched his app status to OCCUPIED.

---

Ian took the entrance ramp onto I-90. They should arrive in Nashville around … oh, 3:37 AM.

“I have an emergency kit.” Ian nodded with his chin. “Under the seat. A few comforts in case you need ’em.”

The passenger shuffled through the insulated bag. “Boxed juice. Granola bars. Fucking gummy bears, man? This is childhood stuff. You got any Jack Daniels?”

Ian felt a spark of disobedience. “I’ve got a few joints in the glove box.” This was definitely off-book behavior, but it felt right. “They come with a price.”

“What’s that, Jeeves?”

“You’ve gotta tell me your whole story.”

---

The dark-haired passenger scoffed. “You don’t look like you’ve got the stomach to get caught up on my bullshit.”

“Try me.”

“Whatever. Fuckin’ sadist.” He settled into his seat. “You ain’t wearing a wire, right?”

“Not today.”

“All right, so, you ever heard of Berry Buds?”

“Those stuffed animals in the shape of fruit? Don’t people use those to smuggle coke?”

The guy raised an eyebrow. “You too delicate to hear about crime, pumpkin? There’s murder, too. Betrayal. And a pair of pink flamingos.”

“Wait, back up. You forgot the most important part. What’s your name?”

The passenger only smiled.

---

Man, this passenger could talk. Ian heard an hour’s worth of Milkovich family crimes.

Milkovich.

Ian didn’t know the guy’s first name. Only how passionate he was, the excitement in his voice.

“So Iggy launched the box of M-80s into the river, right, and this long-legged yahoo waltzes up.” Milkovich paused. “Wait, did you just yawn? If it’s such a chore to listen, I can fuckin’ stop.”

Ian made eye contact in the rearview mirror. “I was promised murder. A boyfriend.”

Milkovich slunk in his seat. “Keith.” All his passion faded to pain. “Yeah … guess I can talk about him.”

---

“Keith is …” Milkovich seeped with defeat and anger. “He’s the first person who saw me as more than a thug. We met at the liquor store. Been together seventeen months. I thought we were long-term, you know? Then he starts spending time at clubs. Digging into the scene. I don’t give a fuck if he does coke to let off steam. But he keeps getting it from the same guy. Real tall motherfucker. White-blond hair. Wears sweater vests.”

“Northside prick.”

“Oh, you know this guy?”

Ian had seen plenty of club action. He hardened in solidarity. “I know the type.”

---

“Anyways, that’s how I realized my piece-of-shit boyfriend is marrying fancy-pants Logan Covington, the motherfucker who snipes our business and has led the biggest anti-Milkovich smear campaign this side of Michigan.” The passenger let out a sigh. He slowed for the first time in an hour. “Shoulda known by that haircut. He came home looking like a walking Ken doll.”

“So, wait.” Ian sorted through the complicated story threads. “Are you going to kill your boyfriend?”

“No, man, keep up. I want to get him back.” He leaned forward, laying his hand on Ian’s shoulder. “And you’re gonna help me.”

---

Ian scoffed. “Don’t rope me into your drama.”

“Come on, man. We show up at the chapel, tell Keith I’m dating you now, let the jealousy unfold.”

Unbelievable. Ian shouldn’t even consider the offer. He had a ton to do this weekend. But Milkovich was obviously hurting.

Ian scratched his chin. “And I’d be on the clock the whole time?”

“What, you scared to do it? You a homophobe or something?”

“I’m gay.”

Milkovich stared, hard. He looked Ian up and down. “You never mentioned that.” He gave a coy smirk.

Ian felt a shot of electricity. “You never asked.”

---

The Silver Diner in Lafayette, Indiana bustled with activity.

Milkovich talked over the sizzling grill. “Still don’t know why we stopped here.”

“Can’t think on an empty stomach.” Ian flagged the waitress.

Jolene smiled, leaned into the booth. “Order’s coming right up, sugarpot.” She touched Ian’s arm as she left.

Milkovich frowned. “That shit happen to you a lot?”

“What?”

“Chicks waving their boobs in your face.”

“I don’t really notice.” But Milkovich noticed. Interesting.

“It’s good, actually. We can use it in our plan. People find you attractive.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

He rolled his eyes. “Didn’t say me.”

---

Milkovich rolled a coin across the diner table. “You see that? Table's tilted by a degree-and-a-half. Cheap off-balance pedestal leg. I’d have used a trestle instead.”

Huh. This guy’s shoulders relaxed when he talked about normal stuff.

“The key with builds like this…” The guy was smart. Layered. Funny. And his eyes twinkled when he geeked out about construction, apparently.

Ian was finding new ways to be awed each minute.

“…at least shim the motherfucker because…”

Ian interrupted. “I’m in.”

“Huh?”

“Your plan? I guess can pretend to like you.”

Ian’s stomach swooped. Pretend might not be the right word.

---

“Seriously, you’ll do it?” Milkovich raised an eyebrow. “Okay, lay it on me. Tell me everything about you.”

Ian enjoyed sharing his details. “I’m one of six kids. Two sisters, three brothers. Wait, you’re not writing this down? You’re gonna memorize all this shit?”

The guy leaned forward, intense, piercing. He traced his finger around Ian’s wrist. “We’re chained now. I’ll remember everything about you.”

This was absurd, but the guy seemed dead serious.

Ian felt goosebumps. He took charge and matched the guy’s intensity. “Then tell me your first name.”

A quick tongue flick. The guy nodded. “It’s Mickey.”

---

Turns out, scheming and joking with Mickey was easier than breathing. Ian drummed on the table. “Okay, how’d we meet? I gave you a ride somewhere?”

“And then I rode you.” Mickey laughed. “Simple enough. How about second date?”

Ian’s inner romantic spun into action. “A rooftop picnic. You brought snacks and whiskey.”

“Hm. Doesn’t sound like me.”

“I brought a tire iron and gun because I didn’t trust you.”

Mickey smirked, like these lies were becoming reality in his head. “Wise man.”

Ian swelled. His weekend suddenly had purpose. He’d be the best fake boyfriend in the goddamn world.

---

They hit the john before they got back on the road. Pissed in outdated urinals, washed their hands.

Ian watched Mickey closely. Every turn, every strut, every smirk. That’s how he noticed that Mickey flinched when the hand dryer shot to life.

“Mickey Milkovich.” Ian laughed. “You can dump a mob boss in the Chicago River but you’re afraid of a little hot air?”

“It’s fucking startling.”

Mickey paused in the doorway. Tilted his head. Looked up at Ian. “Keith … he never noticed that about me.”

Ian elbowed him, defusing his sadness. “I’m going to learn all your secrets, boyfriend.”

---

Around midnight, the rhythm of repeating street lights on Interstate 65 lulled Ian toward sleep.

“Can I ask you a question?” Mickey looked damn relaxed, too. Seat leaned back. Legs stretched out. Talking in a low voice. “Let’s say I blew this.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Say I end up alone. Do I deserve that?”

Ian could certainly judge. He’d heard about Mickey’s crimes, his family, his dating history.

He wanted to hold Mickey’s hand. He wanted to find the right words to remedy this hurt.

“Mickey, you are the most –”

A bang. A crash. Ian’s face smashed into the airbag.

---

Ian took inventory. He was conscious. Neck pain. Bleeding nose.

He scrambled to unfasten his seatbelt. To wave away the airbag dust.

He pawed at Mickey’s leg, arm, chest. “Are you okay?”

“I’m scraped up.” Mickey coughed. “What happened?”

“Someone clipped our bumper. We spun out. Hit the guardrail. I was out of control.”

“Why are you pulling on my eye?”

Ian lowered his hand. “Checking for a concussion.” He tried to steady his breath, calm his panic. “I’m sorry. I let you down.”

Mickey set his injured hand on Ian’s, offering shaky reassurance. “Better than being worm food, man.”

---

The cops had come and gone. Reality settled in. Ian’s car was undriveable. They were stranded.

Mickey’s anxiety spiked. “How the hell am I getting to the wedding now?” He paced along the shoulder, pointing at Ian. “Who drives for a fucking living and doesn’t have roadside assistance?”

Ian spoke via speakerphone to a random tow company they’d Googled. “It’s a silver Camry. Near exit 130.”

Mickey yelled into the phone. “Just look for the goddamn ring of fire lighting up I-65.”

Ian prayed for strength. “Ignore him. There’s no fire.” Unless you counted the flames rising from Mickey’s nostrils.

---

Ian talked to Mickey in the crammed cab of the tow truck. “I told you I’d get you there. I’ll think of something.”

The mechanic pulled into a repair shop. “Car can stay here. Hank opens at 7:00 tomorrow.”

Mickey exploded. “It’s not open 24 hours?”

“This is Indianapolis, not L.A.”

“How are we supposed—"

Ian held up a hand to stop him. He could feel Mickey’s desperation, his impatience and heartbreak. “Is there a hotel nearby?”

The mechanic pointed across the street. To a run-down motel called King Richard’s Royal Inn.

Mickey glared. “Well, long live the fuckin’ king.”

---

Josie at the front desk didn’t even look at her computer. “I’m sorry. It’s race week. We don’t have room for more guests.”

Mickey glared at Ian. “Come on, Gingerbread. You’re taking me to the Motel 6.”

Josie snorted. “You’ll be lucky to find a campground in this town with a vacancy.”

“Guess I’m sleeping in your fucking lobby, then.”

As if Ian didn’t feel bad enough about this situation.

A chime sounded on the computer.

“Hey, now.” Josie smiled. “We’ve just had a cancellation.” She looked between them. “It’s a single. One full-sized bed.”

Mickey didn’t hesitate. “We’ll take it.”

---

“Door’s flimsy enough to kick open.” Ian unlocked the motel room.

Mickey groaned. “No TV. No closet. They better have hot water.”

“Jesus, the bed’s small.” Ian’s neck ached. This was officially hell.

“You gonna be all right, Red? We’ve got to get used to touching each other.”

Ian grabbed him and pulled him close, roughly. “Think we’ll be able to fool Keith?”

And, damn, Mickey’s face was right fucking there, looking tired. Cranky. Kissable. “We should do it bareback in the middle of the chapel just to piss him off.”

Oof.

Ian was not going to survive this night.

---

Mickey cracked the bathroom door as he showered, fogging up the motel room.

Ian sat on the bed, still for the first time tonight. He felt warmth. Pain. Adrenaline let-down.

Mickey’s silhouette moved behind the curtain. A hint. A tease. An invitation.

What if … Ian pulled the curtain back?

He could feel those sturdy shoulders, that smooth skin. Trace his tongue along the water droplets. Grab that thick … hair.

What if Mickey dropped his guy and took Ian on? Then what?

Would Mickey get tired of him?

Desire. Curiosity. Potential. Ian’s thoughts swirled like water.

… then the shower clicked off.

---

“Jesus!” Mickey pulled the curtain back. “Damn water turned to ice.” He jumped from the shower, lunging for a towel.

And of course Ian had been staring and saw everything. Mickey’s dripping body. The toned muscles in his legs. His stomach. A quick flash of his anatomy.

Ian turned away.

“Fucking freezing, man.” Mickey’s wet feet slapped on the floor. “This is on you, Gallagher.”

Ian peeked. The towel did nothing to hide the curve of Mickey’s ass.

God, Ian had to tamp down his infatuation. Maybe cockiness would work instead. “I hear skin-to-skin contact gets you warm the fastest.”

---

Mickey huffed at Ian’s joke. “You tryin’ to see me naked?”

“It’s for science. Research.”

Mickey shrugged and reached for the knot of his towel. The world moved in slow motion now, a tattooed hand tugging white cotton.

The fabric fell away, sliding down his leg. Dark hairs matted against skin. Body with the right balance of definition and softness.

Ian’s heart beat fast. He felt it getting stronger and stronger and stronger.

He glanced up and fell into Mickey’s eyes.

One touch could overcome the silence. One touch could reveal Ian’s crush.

Mickey smiled, all confidence. “Your turn, Loverboy.”

---

In this game of chicken, Mickey was winning.

Ian gulped. It was only fair, right? Mickey needed to see his body for their boyfriend charade to work.

Ian peeled off his jeans. His t-shirt, going slow and begging all his parts to stay chill.

Mickey never broke eye contact.

Ian slid his boxers down, breathless.

“Patriot tattoo. Boobs tattoo.” Mickey nodded. “Carpet matches the drapes. Uh-huh.”

How could Mickey stay so calm when he was tearing Ian’s nerves to pieces?

Mickey stepped within touching distance. “Only one more question, hot shot.”

“What’s that?”

“How good of an actor are you?”

---

Ian held his ground. “I’m a great actor.”

“Could you kiss me right now?” Mickey’s gaze raked down Ian’s body. “Kiss me and not get hard?” Mickey spoke oh-so-slowly. “We’re together, right? So we supposedly kiss all the time. Can you control yourself?”

A song burst through the tension. A silly cartoon voice repeating, You are my cute-cumber. You are my cute-cumber.

Mickey’s eyes widened. “Fuck, my phone.”

He scrambled, but the sound went silent before he got there.

Ian laughed. “Seriously? That’s the cheesiest alert.”

“You don’t understand.” Mickey looked up with pain in his eyes. “That’s Keith’s ringtone.”

---

Keith’s call shifted Mickey's vibe from flirty to flustered.

Ian slid on his boxers and jeans. Being naked suddenly seemed wrong.

“Why the fuck was he calling?” Mickey threw the towel over his lap. “He didn’t leave a voicemail. Is he having second thoughts about the wedding? Should I call back?”

Ian had no clue how to help. “Just take a minute. Breathe.”

“My brain’s turning to mush here, Gallagher. I’m exhausted. I’m confused. We haven’t eaten in hours. And now this? Tell me what the fuck to do.”

Ian didn’t think. He yanked Mickey’s head back and kissed him.

---

The kiss was overwhelming. Tinged with panic. Wonderful. Scary. Exciting. Over too soon.

Mickey touched his own lips. “That’s good. I … needed that.”

“This trip’ll be stressful enough without you freaking out. When the anxiety ratchets up in that head of yours, I’ll take care of you, all right?”

Mickey nodded. Took a second. Smirked. “Knew you couldn’t do it.”

“What?”

“Knew you couldn’t kiss me without getting hard.”

“You’re an asshole.”

But the intensity on Mickey’s face told Ian not to push. The bright blue eyes. The absolute relief at being taken care of.

Ian let the moment simmer.

---

Ian needed to be supportive. A bodyguard. A wingman, offering safety pins and pep talks.

He pulled two joints from his pocket. “You weren’t meant to face this weekend sober.”

“Fuck, man, you always know what I need.”

“Snagged ’em from my glove box after the crash.” Ian lit up and offered one to Mickey. “I know everything seems fuckin’ hopeless, like your life is wrecked. You ain’t wrong.”

“This supposed to make me feel better?”

“The point is, it’s okay to be who you are.”

“What’s that, big guy?”

Ian threaded their fingers together. “A loser, just like me.”

---

The wee hours passed in a purple haze of weed and exhaustion.

They didn’t sleep. They lay beside each other in that tiny bed, clothes on, joking and mumbling.

They bumped elbows, knocked knees, held hands.

Ian ached for more touch. For a kiss that meant more than comfort.

Mickey’s icy blue eyes held him at bay. I can’t face that yet. Please let me hover outside of reality a little longer.

In the orange glow of sunrise, Ian gathered his nerve. He asked the question he’d been pondering all night. “You still want to go to this wedding, Milkovich?”

---

Mickey sat too far away on the motel bed. “Why wouldn’t I go? Keith is my boyfriend. We live together.”

“How’s that gonna work out once the newlyweds get home?”

“I still want to go.”

This wasn’t right, goddammit. In the movies, a kiss leads to a romantic finale, not this stubborn insistence to stay on course.

Ian grasped at one last hope. “To win Keith back?”

Mickey inched closer. He held Ian’s chin. Broke into a smile. “To show him what a big mistake he made.”

This time, the kiss was only about the two of them. Fuckin’ finally.

--- * --- * --- * --- * ---

Hey. Is this thing on?

Gallagher’s been doing an okay job telling this story, but now it’s my turn. And none of that past-tense, passive bullshit. I’ll tell you everything the moment it happens, okay?

You’re gonna witness every mile, every pit stop, every tacky decision my ex makes for this wedding. His abysmal choice in groom. Some godawful silver balloon arch. Those lime-flavored vodka Jell-o squares he loves so much.

Damn, I can’t wait to see the scowl on Keith’s face when Ian and I start playing tonsil hockey on the dance floor.

We’re gonna fuck some shit up.

---

It’s seven AM. I’m camped outside Hank’s Body Shop drinking coffee-colored swill.

Ian’s beside me, giving me bedroom eyes, running his fingers up my arm. He’s tempting as fuck.

Hank unlocks the door and lets us in. “Knew you’d be waitin’.”

I spot Ian’s car, nod toward it. “What’s the damage?”

“Her bones are good, but you’re looking at three grand in parts and labor. I have an opening on October first.”

“October? That’s six weeks from now.”

Hank shrugs. “You can tow her somewhere else. No skin off my teeth.”

Ian eyes darken, and not in a sexy way.  

---

Look, I’ve learned a lot about Gallagher in the past day. If he says he’s gonna do something, he will.

We’re definitely getting to Nashville.

He’s got about eighty tabs up on his phone. “Ubering is ridiculously expensive. A rental car’ll surcharge me because I’m not twenty-five.”

“You’re not?”

“Not until next May.” Ian doesn’t even look up. “Greyhound leaves at 11:30. What time’s the wedding?”

“Six.”

“Guess we’re taking the bus.”

I fucking hate this idea. Ian can tell. He grabs me by the waist. “We can cuddle the whole way there.”

Okay, maybe I fucking love this idea.

---

We leave the car behind. Leave the body shop behind. Check out of the motel, leave it behind.

All I’ve been doing lately is letting things go. Releasing the goddamn trapeze wire and falling without a net.

My ex is the hardest fucking thing to let go.

Ian and I sit in the back seat of a cab, on our way to the bus station. He holds my hand, simply. “This is the first time I’ve seen your shoulders relax.”

He's a six-foot-high, freckly-armed godsend. It's easier to let go when a motherfucker like that is waiting to catch you.

---

The bus trip passes in a blur. I’m lost in a tangle of Gallagher limbs. He touches my forehead, cups my cheek, kisses me every minute on the minute.

After all the shit we’ve gone through, the ride feels too easy. Roadblocks are easy to rally against. But when the path is clear, doubt creeps in.

We pull into Nashville Station at four o’clock. It’s sunny. The air smells like Keith.

He’s probably putting on his tux and double-checking the flowers right now.

I’ve been obsessed. I haven’t taken a moment to breathe.

Fuck.

Am I doing the right thing?

[fruitcoops]

just had a tornado blow through...(we're okay, it's kinda normal here). but could we get another blackout/big storm fic? (if you're up for it?)

Glad you're alright! We've got a big storm here tonight as well <3 Have some Lions working through life to distract. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW mild/ medium relationship issues, Sirius' bad habits, and previous people not being very nice to Leo

There was something in the water. Remus was sure of it.

“Put—stop it! Put it down!”

Maybe carbon monoxide was leaking into the rink. Plus all of their houses and apartments.

“I told you, it’s not about the rutabaga.”

Or, fuck it, Mercury was in the microwave again. In the Gatorade? Something like that. He wondered if Marlene would know.

Arthur knocked on the doorframe and the mass of grumbling died down; the air still tasted like sour sweat and irritation and Remus wrinkled his nose at the mats. After a cursory look around the room, Arthur raised a brow and gestured with his clipboard. “Y’know, I’ve got a lot of notes—a lot of notes—but none of you look like you can handle them right now, so we’re doing the short version. Cap, come see me. Lupin, Moody’s waiting for you, don’t give me that face. Olli, figure your shit out. Kuns…Kuns.” He shook his head. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Tremzy, stop being mean, and Harz, stop being stupid. Bliz, Layla gets the honor of having you this afternoon. Do your cooldowns without biting each others’ heads off, please, and then go home and sleep this off. Goodnight.”

“Night, Coach,” came the mumbled chorus.

Remus chewed the inside of his lip while he stripped his shin pads off. Sirius was already halfway out the door, still in his under armor—the rush of endorphins that usually accompanied the sight of his gorgeous fiancé was notably absent. He closed his eyes and took a breath. Recenter. It was a rough day, rough week, rough whatever. It would be best to just let it go now.

A hand clapped his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Jesus!”

“Woah, hey, easy.” Talker held both hands low, palms down between their stalls. “Just saying hi.”

“What—” Breathe. Recenter. Remus blinked a few times to clear his head. “Fuck, no, you’re good. Sorry. Hi. Sorry.”

Talker’s gaze turned dark with worry. “You okay?”

“Just…in my head.” It was a shit answer, but his vague wave seemed to get the point across. Talker nodded slowly. His hands remained on his own side. “You?”

“Been better, been worse.” He tipped his head back and forth, making his small earring swing. A gift from Noelle, if Remus remembered correctly. He watched it catch the fluorescent light for a few seconds before Talker spoke again. “Weird energy in here.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Remus turned back to his pads with a humorless laugh. “No kidding. We should crack a window or something.”

Talker hummed, tucking his hands beneath himself. One knee bounced incessantly and Remus tried not to let it bother him. “Reminds me of the you-know-whats.”

Remus’ hands itched to knock on wood. “Yep.”

“But we’re not there. Yet,” Talker added after a pause.

“Nope.”

“Cap’s being…interesting.”

“Tell me about it,” Remus muttered.

Something like relief rippled over Talker’s expression. “So it’s not us.”

“When is it ever?” Remus offered a wry smile. “He gets like this. You know that. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

Talker’s shoulder relaxed against his own, warm and solid. “Yeah, I guess.”

“It’s really not you, man.”

“I know.”

“T.” Remus waited until he looked over, and ducked his head slightly. “It’s not you.”

The kicked-puppy look in Talker’s eye made his chest hurt. Remus knew he had a tendency to put it all on himself—to think he was solely responsible for maintaining the team’s happiness. They were friends for a reason, after all. A missed pass wasn’t the end of the world, but…god, in the NHL? It sure felt like it.

Leo blew past them, not quite stomping, but certainly not pleased. Remus followed his path and found Logan staring at the floor with the same mournful gaze that plagued half the room. His stomach twisted. For a group of guys with everything in the world, they were a bunch of fucking messes, sometimes.

He patted Talker once on the shoulder before standing; he didn’t bother with shoes. It was a quick enough trip to get by in his socks. Moody’s office door was already open when he arrived, and he had barely raised his hand to knock on the frame when a grunt invited him inside.

The door closed with a faint noise. Silence thickened the air, save for the scribble of Moody’s pen. “Coach said you wanted to see me?” Remus prompted awkwardly. He didn’t like this stiffness. They had never been like that before.

Moody clicked his pen shut and leaned back in his chair with a long sigh, rocking back and forth. “Layla says you’re favoring your bad side.”

Tattletale. Remus bit the instinctive thought back. That wasn’t fair. “Probably.” Moody raised an unamused brow at him. “Yeah,” he admitted, scuffing his foot on the floor. “Yeah, I think so, too.”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause.”

“The league doesn’t like it when I’m not nice to you boys.” Moody fixed him in place with a look. “But you’re not a snitch, so cough it up, you little shit.”

A scowl tried to claw its way onto Remus’ face, but he kept himself steady. Moody had done too much for him and saved him from too many bad places to be iced out. He kicked at a dust bunny. “Nine years.”

“Since…?”

“Since.”

“Ah.”

He sniffed, dry-eyed and nauseated. “Next Monday. Nine years. I still remember the day and time it happened.”

“We’re not playing Vegas next week.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Moody went quiet, and stayed that way for a long time. His chair creaked as he rocked in slow, maddening patterns. He’d have his leg off, tucked beneath his desk; he rarely left it on when he didn’t need to. Something about sweat. Itching. The works, he’d grumble if Remus asked. The ‘World’s Best Grandpa’ mug—a gag gift from last year’s Secret Santa—sat undisturbed on his desk, filled to bursting. Pens, pencils, a spoon, a screwdriver, an inexplicable parrot feather, all interspersed with his steadily-growing collection of flags.

Remus remembered the day the first one had appeared. A simple rainbow with a wooden stick, no bigger than a postcard. Moody hadn’t said a thing, but he knew it was for him. It wasn’t the only one anymore. The sight of it still made his throat tight.

“Come see me if you need to,” Moody said at last. He tapped his pen on his stack of papers, then nodded. “For the record, I’m not worried. Out of my office.”

“Have a good night, Moody.” Thunder rolled overhead as he turned to the door. “Get home safe, okay?”

He got another grunt in the affirmative and turned the doorknob, hoping the squeaky top hinge would muffle his sigh. The door swung open, Remus walked face-first into Sirius’ chest, and everything went black as night.

--

“I don’t know why you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Don’t pull that bullshit.”

“My feelings aren’t bullshit.”

“Mon dieu—”

“I’m serious, I’m not angry.” Leo shut the drawer a little harder than necessary. The salt shaker rattled on the counter.

“Then what are you?” Logan demanded, keeping his voice low.

“I’m—” He pressed his lips together and tilted his face up to the ceiling. Upset. Hurt. Stressed. Frustrated. Angry. “I don’t know.”

“I already apologized for the rhubarb—”

“Rutabaga.”

“Jesus, Leo.” Logan’s tone was sharp; he flinched. Okay, maybe he deserved that one. He heard Logan’s unsteady exhale and felt a gentle touch on his arm. “I’m sorry. I should have listened better, or texted you when I wasn’t sure.”

And there it was again, that burning flare of annoyance. Leo shrugged him off and turned to the coffee maker. Someone had left their disposable cup in the machine the last time it was used. The sight made him want to take the entire thing and slam it on the floor.

“Leo?”

“I don’t want you to text me when you aren’t sure.” His voice came out shaky and he silently cursed himself. At least his hands didn’t tremble while he swapped the cups. “I—Logan, I shouldn’t have to be your food dictionary.”

“Hey.”

Leo bit the inside of his cheek at the genuine hurt in Logan’s voice and dug through the mug cupboard. “Look, it’s fine, just…look it up if you’re not sure. It’s not like I hide my cookbooks.”

Or, better yet, be a capable adult. Logan’s sneakers shuffled on the linoleum. Where was his goddamn mug? “D’accord,” he finally said. “Yeah, I’ll—I can do that.”

Was it bad that Leo wanted him to push harder? Maybe he was just jonesing for a fight, but Logan’s instant buckling made him feel even worse. They had been waspish with each other earlier, enough that Finn outright refused to be in the same room until they figured themselves out—perhaps Logan had worn out his ability to argue for the day.

Leo snorted humorlessly. That would be a first.

Pastel yellow caught his peripheral vision. He clenched his hands on the edge of the countertop and took a deep, fortifying breath. Throwing a mug at a wall would get him fired. Throwing things at Logan would never be something he did, in this life or the next, no matter how angry he may or may not be.

Leo plucked the Me-Wow! mug from it’s place—dirty—in the sink—also dirty—by its tail-shaped handle and dropped it in the trash, then walked out of the kitchen, leaving Logan and his coffee behind. Thunder rumbled overhead and guilt bubbled up. He shouldn’t leave like that, not when the storm was only going to get worse. Logan didn’t do well alone and upset. He had almost certainly left his headphones at home, too. Leo was never the one to leave but he just couldn’t take it—

He made it ten feet down the hall before the lights went out and silence doused the building.

Fuck.

--

James was not live, laugh, loving in these conditions. First of all, his best friend/ best man/ adopted brother was imploding with self-loathing for approximately the seventh time this week. Second, his wife’s best friend/ best man/ adopted brother was a nervous wreck despite his best attempts to keep himself together. And third, two of the rookies had worked themselves into a tiff that made Finn look like that.

Finn watched Logan leave after Leo in utter misery. Poor kid belonged in an ASPCA commercial.

In truth, James didn’t know what went wrong, exactly. Sirius had these cycles—he’d ride high and be so firm in himself, in what he loved and worked for, then crash so hard James expected it to leave visible wounds. It was far more frequent in the early days. Since Remus entered the picture, Sirius hadn’t spiraled more than a handful of times. It was like he needed a pressure-release valve to make sure all those internal works didn’t melt or rust over. Remus was better at getting Sirius to talk than just about anyone. It was shitty that Remus’ wan smiles and sickly pallor had to align with the exact time Sirius most needed someone who wouldn’t put up with his nonsense.

James did his best, but he wanted them to be happy more than anything. More often than not, it meant he didn’t push nearly enough. They all had bad habits.

He knew Coach would bring it up today. Sirius’ dark mood had set them all on edge, caught in that place between wanting to prove themselves and wanting to stay out of the way. Whatever was happening between Leo and Logan had brought the scrap of good mood to rock-bottom. There was only so much slack James could pick up without exhausting himself, and he was already at the end of his rope.

Talker was still fussing with his sock tape when James looked over. The stickiness was dead from his rhythmic wrapping and unwrapping, but he didn’t seem to care. James nudged his toe with the front of his skate. “ ‘Sup?”

Talker half-shrugged. “Not much.”

“You were good in the scrimmage today.”

His hands stuttered on the roll before evening out again. “You, too.”

James scooted over into Remus’ stall and lowered his head, turning slightly away from the center of the room for an iota of privacy. “You wanna talk about it? If this is about the pass—”

“Noelle can’t make it for my birthday.”

Oh. Oh. James’ heart sank. “Aw, buddy.”

“They’re in the playoffs and someone rescheduled.” His lips pressed together in a tight line. “It’s dumb, I just…”

“Miss her,” James finished when he trailed off.

Talker nodded. “Distance sucks.”

“I know.”

James tried not to be offended by Talker’s immediate skepticism. “You do?”

“Lily stayed in Boston for three years before transferring up here.” Worst three years of my life. “She wanted her BS in chemistry. I wasn’t going to be the schmuck to hold her back. We called, and FaceTimed, and texted when she was at school, but it—”

“Wasn’t the same,” they said in unison.

The ball of tape fell pathetically next to the trash bin. “I want to hug her,” Talker said. “It sounds so stupid, but I want to hug her. And—I don’t know, it’s been rainy today. She likes it when it rains.”

“Yeah.” James leaned over to bump his shoulder. “I hear if you cross your fingers and jump in a circle three times, your wishes come true.”

Talker was halfway through a laugh when the lights went out.

--

Oh my god, I went blind. The thought was wild and harebrained and ridiculous. So, precisely how Remus was feeling in every other aspect of his life.

“Oh.” Sirius sounded surprised. His hands were firm on Remus’ upper arms. “Bonjour.”

Remus blinked a few times to let his vision adjust to the sudden darkness. The remnants of the team’s shouts of surprise echoed briefly before going quiet. “Uh, hi,” he managed. Sirius was nothing more than a blob of shadow, but he felt along his arms and chest until he found a shoulder to pat. “Sorry. Power’s out?”

“Looks like it.”

“Huh. Did you…did you need something?”

Sirius shifted from foot to foot. “Uh. No, not really.”

Liar, but okay. Remus patted him again, and let his hand linger. The rink felt different like this. Low murmuring had started up again in the locker room, but everything else was grave-quiet without the familiar buzz of electricity. It felt like the heartbeat had stopped. Like they had paused in time. “We should—should we go back to the locker room?”

Sirius’ hands pulsed where he held Remus. “Sure,” he said with the reluctance of someone being asked to walk headfirst into the ocean.

Lightning cracked outside and Remus caught a glimpse of Sirius worrying at the inside of his lip in the brief light. “We can stay here,” he offered after a moment. “Or, like…go somewhere else for a bit.”

“Can we?”

The relief in Sirius’ voice ached. They had been so pent-up lately, neither willing to break the ice first but both suffering from their shared bad moods. Remus knew he had been more lost in his thoughts than down on Earth for days, and Sirius was being so…so Sirius. But not his Sirius. The Sirius that was twitchy, the Sirius that tossed and turned all night. The Sirius that barely finished his dinner.

Remus rolled the sleeve of Sirius’ shirt between his thumb and pointer finger, and pulled him in for a hug. His stiffness dissolved in an instant.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into Sirius’ collarbone. He smelled good when Remus took a deep inhale, laundry soap and cologne. His arms were strong and solid around Remus’ back—he felt a few deep breaths come and go under his palms and inclined his head to let Sirius’ bury his face in his neck. His hair was damp from his post-practice rinse. It tickled Remus’ nose along the wings he liked to play with when Sirius was sleepy and cuddly. He sighed again. “Sirius, I’m so sorry.”

“I wasn’t there for you this week.” Sirius’ breath warmed his neck. His hold on Remus tightened. “You don’t need to be sorry, loup.”

“Okay,” Remus said softly. “But I am.”

“If you’re sorry, then I’m—” Sirius broke off with a tired laugh and nuzzled further into his neck. “I don’t know. Throwing myself at your feet and begging for forgiveness.”

Remus snorted at that mental image, but held him closer anyway. “It’s okay. I know you don’t like feeling like this.”

“I don’t,” Sirius agreed. “Doesn’t mean I should stop paying attention to you.”

“I’ve been doing the same to you,” he reminded him gently.

“You had a reason.”

“And you didn’t?”

Sirius fell quiet. His fingertips slipped along the divot of Remus’ spine while his palm warmed the small of his back; Remus felt a bit silly, standing there in his socks in the dark, but it didn’t really matter when he could feel Sirius’ heart beginning to even out at last. Someone padded out of the locker room and down the hall. Red hair stood out for a half-second when lightning struck again and his worry eased. If Finn was going to check on his boys, everything would sort itself out.

“I hate that this still happens.” Sirius’ voice barely cleared a whisper. “It sneaks up on me, and then I can’t sleep and I’m not hungry—or, I am, I just can’t—and I don’t know when it will stop.”

“I know, baby.”

“I want to sleep next to you and not be thinking about the next game, Re.”

Remus slipped his hands beneath Sirius’ arms and pressed their bodies together like he could press reassurance into him. If he could take that burden, he would. If he could fix it, he would. If he had the right words to tell Sirius that he didn’t care whether he was perfect or a wreck, he would. He pushed his nose under the soft spot of Sirius’ jaw and kissed him there. “I love you.”

A small sound stuck in Sirius’ throat.

“Je t’aime,” he repeated with another kiss. Just because he could.

The rise and fall of Sirius’ shoulders was steady now. “Je t’aime aussi. Whatever you need for this week, I’m here, okay? I’m in your nook.”

“My…nook?”

“Your—” Sirius huffed a laugh. “I’m on your side. Whatever the saying is.”

“In my corner?” Remus suggested around a smile. Sirius grumbled something vaguely agreeable and swatted at him, but never loosened their hug for a second.

--

Leo was holding him, and he wasn’t even angry anymore. Not like he had been. Thunder rattled a distant window and Logan’s grip twisted in the front of his shirt. “I’m fine,” he said.

Leo kissed his temple. “Yeah.”

They lapsed back into silence. He was usually so good at problem-solving, but every time he tried to speak, his tongue got stuck on the words. The anger had burnt itself out. The frustration and annoyance were still there, alongside the hurt. He wished Finn was there. Finn always knew what words to use.

“I’m sorry,” Leo said haltingly. Logan shifted in his arms. “I was shitty to you. Earlier, I mean. I should have talked to you.”

Logan didn’t answer. Somehow, that was the worst outcome. Leo knew how to match him in a verbal fight.

Lightning flashed. Logan flinched. Leo held him like he alone could stop the light from taking his boyfriend by surprise. That was it, wasn’t it? Even pissed off, he’d still hold Logan rather than leaving him in the dark with a thunderstorm.

They didn’t speak, just swayed in place. Footsteps echoed down the hall, growing closer each second before coming to a halt in the doorway. “Babes?”

“Here,” they chorused softly.

“Um.” Finn audibly hesitated. “Okay, give me a landmark. I’m so blind right now.”

“By the countertop,” Leo offered. Logan burrowed deeper into his chest. He was fever-hot the way he got when he was upset. Finn’s noise of sympathy when he found them and felt it somehow made it worse. “Hey, Fish.”

“Hey.” Leo heard the sound of a soft kiss. “Lo, you good?”

“Ouais,” came the murmured answer.

They lapsed into silence for the length of another roll of thunder. “And you…” Finn faltered. “You figured yourselves out?”

Leo looked away despite the darkness. They remained silent.

“Right,” Finn sighed.

“I don’t know what I did,” Logan blurted. “You said this wasn’t about the rutabaga, but it is, and you said you’re not angry, but you are, and I’m confused. And I’m really sorry for whatever I did to upset you, Peanut. I’m being so honest right now.”

“That’s the problem,” Leo said helplessly.

Logan clutched at his shirt, as if the answers were hidden in the fabric. “What?” he asked. “What is the problem? Stop doing that, I told you, I’m confused. Are you angry?”

“A little,” Leo choked out. Ugh, honesty was sawdust in his mouth.

“Is it about the rutabaga?”

“No.”

Logan made a frustrated noise, but Finn cut him off before he could continue. “What is it about, sweetheart?” he asked, so gentle it burned.

Leo let out a long breath, unwinding one arm from Logan’s waist to wrap it around Finn instead. He was nice and cool from his shower. They had all been running too hot lately.

“I’m not your mom, Lo,” he began. “We’re all grown-ups here. You know what food looks like. You know how to google things.” He felt the feelings ramp up again and rather than swallowing them back, let them siphon out on an exhale. Everything inside him was a miserable, knotted mess. “You don’t need me to come to the store with you all the time, and it pisses me off when you keep asking because I’m—'better at it’, or whatever. It’s not my job to shop for you. I’m sick and tired of it.”

Logan’s chest caved against his own. He mumbled something under his breath and Leo closed his eyes.

“I can’t hear you when you do that, c’mon, please—"

“I said, it’s not because I need you to shop for me.” Logan’s voice shook slightly, but not with anger.

“Then why would you ask me to walk to the store with you for the ‘right garlic’?” he sighed.

Logan raised his head, leaving a cold spot on the left side of Leo’s chest. “Because I want to spend time with you.”

That—was not the answer he had been expecting. You’re better at it, Logan would say. You know the foods better than I do. The realization came in waves; he had been teasing. Joking. Making it a bit. And Leo thought he was dead serious the whole damn time. All the frustration he had built up around himself cam down with a rush and a clatter. His heart made a break for hell with a pit stop at his stomach. He stared into the dark nothingness of the rink break room and tried to remember how to breathe.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“I…” He broke off. Words had gotten him into this mess. Were they both that terrible at communicating properly? Finn bumped his arm and he took the hint (for once), wrapping Logan in a hug. By some miracle, Logan hugged him back. “That is the sweetest fucking thing, and I’m so sorry,” he managed, hoarse. “Oh my god. Oh my god, Logan, that was such a fucked-up thing for me to think.”

“I do actually like you, you know,” Logan said, muffled in his shoulder.

The remnants of Leo’s heart went for another spin through the shredder. “No, I know, I know, I’m so sorry. I like you, too.” He pressed a hard kiss to Logan’s temple and squeezed him tighter. “I like you so much. So much.”

“And I know what kind of garlic you like.”

Tears made Leo’s eyes sting and he violently wished them back. He had no right to cry over this. None at all. “Of course you do.”

Logan scratched lightly between his shoulder blades. “I don’t want to think about the type of people that made you think I’d do that, though. But if you want to give me names and addresses…”

Leo laughed weakly and felt Finn huff against him. “No, none of that,” Leo said with a kiss to Logan’s messy curls. He kissed his cheek, too, and his lips for good measure. Slow and easy, the way they both liked it. He wanted to make sure Logan was paying attention. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “You did nothing wrong. I love you so, so much and I never should have thought that about you.”

In the hallway, the whir of generators kicked up. Soft light cast Logan in gold and dull shadows, just enough to make out the conflicted look on his face. His thumb was rough against Leo’s jaw. “I wish you thought better of yourself,” he said quietly. “You’re fun to be around, even walking to the store.”

I wish I had thought better of you. Leo pulled him close without a word and caught Finn’s gaze over Logan’s shoulder. His expression told him everything he needed to know, and he shut his eyes as Finn’s arms came around them both. A kiss lingered just above his ear. Leo kind of wanted to cry all over again.

--

The generators were a masterpiece of mechanics. The emergency switch flipped the moment the building lost power from the main grid, pooling energy around the rink itself to keep the ice solid. The rest of the lights would come on within fifteen to twenty minutes, beginning with the stadium seats and ending with the more fringe areas, like locker room and kitchens. They were top of the line, the best you could buy for a massive space that relied heavily on electricity to keep it functional.

They were no match for the Lions.

Ice cream, popsicles, and enough beer to cover the team twice over were liberated from the various refrigerators in less than five minutes. The team gathered on the floor of the locker room with iPhone flashlights and glowsticks (also ‘borrowed’ from the adjacent rooms) to enjoy their haul in peace and to play stupid, silly games like middle schoolers at a sleepover. They played games for a living, for crying out loud. Their favorite game. Why on earth would they take it too seriously when an opportunity like this presented itself?

Equal cheers and groans went up when the lights came back on. Moody was the first to leave, having only stuck around that long because the space outside his office door was occupied with an apparently necessary conversation. Arthur was next. The general consensus among the players was that the weather was simply too bad to risk driving. For their safety, they should stay and enjoy their goodies.

The morning security shift found them right where Arthur left them, puppy-piled by their stalls and surrounded by joyous havoc.

[skeletinmoss]

The curse of the dark Phoenix

Chapter 3: Mage from a box

First | Previous | Next

The three great mages turned around. Nervous, shocked, curious.

They found that the room behind them was now filled with miniature stars, lighting the place up.

Allowing them to get a proper look at the figure.

It was a man. Pale with ravel black hair falling to his shoulders, shining with pops of teal and purple in the light, bringing out his amethyst colored eyes that were accented with dark shadow underneath.

He had a patch of facial hair just on his chin making him look more mature.

From his ears dangled golden earrings.

And he was dressed as though he was expected to meet the king. He was wearing a black, billowing shirt and a purple shoulder piece with a high collar and tulle over sleaves. The shoulder piece was adorned with golden detailing on the edge of the collar. And solid golden emblems on both arms and across the sternum. The detailing depicting wings and feathers, with teal gemstones embedded in the designs.

The cuffs on the black shirt were teal colored and corset belt also both with golden embroidery.

The tight fitting pants were mostly black but with a line of golden detailing down the side that highlighted the silhouette. Paired with a pair of knee high boots with again golden detailing and a slight heel.

Everything about him said “this guy is a big deal,” except his expression.

He looked at them like he needed a nap.

“I guess I should properly thank you for letting me out,” the man mused a little awkwardly as he adjusted his cuffs and collar. “I owe you one…” he admitted, looking around the room a bit absentminded. “Though, mind telling me where I am? Last I remember I was at lake Estramos I think… This is nowhere near that, I know that much,” the man recalled.

“Who, who are you?” Logan asked absolutely shocked.

The man, who once was Storm, but probably wasn’t actually named Storm, rolled his eyes.

“Why bother hiding away V? You can’t help but outclass us, people are going to know you soon enough,” he said in a tone that implied he was mockingly quoting someone. “Gues not Jay,” he huffed.

The stranger turned to them and made a vague bowing gesture. “Virgil. If you want to be formal the title is Virgil, mage of the night flame, but please don’t,” the man, Virgil of the night flame explained.

Roman had heard the title ‘night flame’ before…

From the way Logan and Pat shifted he guessed it struck them as familiar too.

“You said Lake Estramos… That is on the other side of the country,” Patton offered.

“The other side… Not very specific, but never mind…” Virgil strode forward making the trio move to let him through. His clothes flowed along with his movements making them seem even more impossibly graceful. Roman could barely hear any sound from where his boots touched the hardwood floors. Again he felt like this man would not look out of place at a royal ball or any equally prestigious gathering.

Virgil leaned over the desk and looked out at the sky, it was cloudy.

“That won’t do,” he muttered absentmindedly, waving his hand and with a gleam of purple the clouds parted, leaving the mages behind him completely aghast.

Did that man just wave away the clouds as though it was a smudge on his mirror?

“Something is wrong with the stars…” Mage Virgil mused disturbed. “This doesn’t look right… This place is a mess. No self-respecting mage would let it get this bad. Even Remus would think this is too much of a dump… Fine,” Virgil huffed annoyed and next thing he was holding the box. The one with the dangerous ingredients in them. “Wait what are you…” Roman warned, but Virgil had already retrieved no less than three forbidden substances while grabbing a few less dangerous ones from his immediate surroundings and rubbed them together. “Can’t believe I gotta do this shit before a nap,” he grumbled and then his hand glowed again and there was an illusion of a different sky before him. The three mages had inched a bit closer to see what he was doing.

“Okay we’re off by a few degrees north…” the sky moved. “This should be it but the allignments don’t match… when do they match,” Virgil muttered. “It’s summer so maybe just…” another shift in the illusory constellations. “No that’s not right either.”

“Ahm, the arch mage disappeared thirty years ago,” Patton offered helpfully, blushing bright red as the fact that he’d been baby talking this man started to settle in.

Virgil cursed under his breath. “Three decades? Frick where are those idiots? No way they wouldn’t notice I was gone for that long…” The fake sky changed, constellations shifting slowly. “No still not right…” Virgil muttered. Just a touch of concern in his voice. “Four? No… The frick… Fifty years…” The illusory sky stopped moving and Roman saw that the fake stars matched the real stars perfectly now. “Okay, that’s a long ass time. What the fuck did I miss…?” the mysterious mage wondered frustrated, waving the illusion away and turning around to pace with that unearthly grace.

“No chance Jay and Re would forget about me for fifty years. Maybe they wouldn’t question me avoiding people for a year or two but I’d still check in. They know that…” he muttered.

“Ahm… Sir,” Logan said.

Virgil stopped and looked up. “Just Virgil is fine. We’re all mages here,” he assured Logan.

The trio exchanged a look. They hadn’t seen too much of this man’s power yet, but they had felt it when he passed them. They were definitely not the same.

“Virgil,” Logan allowed. Deciding not to argue decorum with the clearly more powerful person in the room. He’d just used three different forbidden herbs to check a fancy calendar and didn’t even seem a little affected.

“Fifty years ago the black magic plague happened. Many powerful mages fell victim… Even if your friends escaped it, it has been fifty years…” Logan explained delicately.

Or as delicately as you can tell a man that everyone he knew is probably dead or close to it.

He looked to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties if he’d aged very favorably.

Virgil frowned. “What nonsense is that?” he scoffed. “First of all, they aren’t very easily killed, especially by something mundane like old age. I’m pretty sure I got stabbed in the back before I ended up here… It feels like I got stabbed at least…” Virgil frowned, looking properly disturbed by something. Then he shook his head and got back to the topic at hand. And his pacing.

Every time he turned his hair and clothes swished in mesmerizing ways Roman found.

“In any case. Stabbing in the back didn’t do the job, clearly, and my friends have survived worse than that. And a black magic plague? Not a chance. Even if it was a thing, which any mage worth their robes should know it isn’t, J and Re wouldn’t be so lame as to catch it. They’d be offended at the suggestion. No… Something happened. Like me ending up here fifty years later… Where did you find me?” Virgil asked stopping abruptly and looking at them.

“Um there was a box on the desk… it was chained up,” Roman offered.

Virgil looked back at him, fully focused on him for the first time since he took human form. Which meant that Roman had to acknowledge a few things. This man was dangerously powerful, potentially evil (even if he didn’t know about the forbidden herbs thing, something had caused him to be locked in that box and while Roman’s gut told him he wasn’t bad, the judge was still out on that one) and very, very hot. He was too gay for this.

Virgil cocked his head, pensive. “You mentioned a box earlier. You think it had a hiding spot underneath a desk but was left behind out of its usual place,” he recalled. Roman nodded nervously, having a hard time speaking when those eyes were staring down into his soul.

Virgil cocked his head, nodded, took a deep breath and relaxed his posture a bit before addressing them again. “No need to be scared…” he promised. “Let’s take a step back. Hi, once again. Call me Virgil. And you three are?” the mage offered, sounding softer than before.

“Ah, Patton, martial crafter,” Patton offered. Virgil nodded, not as surprised as people usually were when he said that.

“Logan, I am the diviner of the group,” he offered. Virgil’s eyes drifted to the books bound on Logan’s hips, seemingly skeptical.

“And ah, Roman. Herbalist, medic…” Roman offered, again Virgil wasn’t surprised, but he’d seen Roman in action so that made sense.

“The stone… Did you figure what it was yet?” he asked instead, surprising Roman.

“Um… Logan is more the identify the things guy…” Roman smiled a bit uncomfortably at being put in the spot like that. How did he even know he’d been meditating on that?

“Try anyway,” Virgil instructed, eying him with curiosity and patience.

Roman frowned but retrieved the stone from where he’d dropped it when the whole ‘the phoenix is actually a person’ drama started.

“Okay…” he muttered holding the stone, feeling it the way he’d been doing earlier. He felt that magic again, the impatience…

“Don’t fight against it,” Virgil said, suddenly besides him, but Roman wasn’t scared. He didn’t feel like Virgil was trying to do anything bad, rather trying to help.

“Trust your magic, let it flow. You are a Great Mage, you have opened the path of your mana and connected to the magical flow on a deeper level. Trust that connection you worked so hard for. Don’t overthink it,” Virgil insisted.

Roman nodded, a bit flustered at having the attractive mage hold an unprompted tutoring session standing right behind him.

Roman tried to do what he was told. He took a breath and let his magic seep through his fingers into the stone. It was fuzzy at first. Like a room full of people talking in a strange language. And suddenly it came to him. “It’s a variation on a sending stone, but this one only listens,” he realized.

“An eavesdropping stone if you will,” Virgil nodded, not surprised. “Something like that could definitely come in handy if you want to get the jump on a mage who’s traveling…” Virgil mused.

“You are not suggesting the arch mage did this to you,” Logan chided.

Virgil shook his head. “Not a clue who he is so I wouldn’t know if he’d care enough about my existence to bother. It’s possible he did get the jump on the guy who got to me and took the box I was in and this stone from him. I’m not jumping to conclusions any time soon,” Virgil assured them.

That was a comfort for the group. They weren’t sure if they could handle this mage deciding to take revenge on the mage. He might beat them to his location. If he was alive to begin with, they wouldn’t be able to protect him.

Virgil didn’t seem to notice their relief or at least not care about it. He turned his attention to Logan.

“But that brings me to you glasses. What’s with all the books?” Virgil challenged.

Logan’s hands reached for his most prized possessions. “Spellbooks. For divination,” he explained confused.

Virgil scoffed. “You are a Great Mage too right? You should’ve left books behind when you went from wizard to mage,” he pointed out.

“Well… Typically, yeah,” Logan admitted a little flushed. “But divination is tricky and can be overwhelming and I just…”

Virgil disappeared from Roman’s side and appeared on Logan’s, making the mage jump.

“Relax nerd. Did you or did you not make it to Great Mage?” Virgil asked.

“I… How do you even know? We never mentioned our rank,” Logan pointed out defensively.

“Despite the fact that you guys are half-assing your spells you mean? I can tell you made the connection. Even in my guidance form I could tell. You guys were born under some seriously generous stars by the way. I don’t know how your teachers fucked up your lessons so bad,” Virgil explained.

“Now, Like I told Roman, don’t overthink it. I can tell that might be something you have a harder time with than your friends. I’ve been there with some of the more complicated stuff too. But your magic is there to help you, not hurt you. Close your eyes, focus on a question, just one, and let your magic find the answers,” Virgil said lowly.

Roman couldn’t quite help the sting of disappointment when he realized that Virgil had not singled him out but was apparently giving pointers to everyone.

“Something simple, like the weather for tomorrow, or just what’s up with the scroll in your hand,” Virgil stated. “Do you have your question?” he asked.

Logan hesitated but nodded.

“Okay, open your eyes, and remember, focus,” Virgil said.

Logan took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

And collapsed with a scream of pain.

“Hey, what did I say? Focus. One thing,” the purple clad mage said as he knelt down and laid his hands on Logan’s shoulder.

“I can’t, too many questions,” Logan gasped, clasping his head.

“Deep breaths. Focus on my voice for now okay? Maybe a busy room like this wasn’t the greatest place to do this exercise,” Virgil allowed.

“I would suggest practicing it a bit more when you are out of here. Maybe on some things you know the answers to already. I had a classmate who was a little wanna-know-it-all and couldn’t pick questions easily and this method seemed to help them,” he told Logan.

Logan took a few breaths and then nodded, indicating he was alright.

Virgil rose to his feet and turned to Patton who let out a squeak.

“I saw you use magic to open that chest earlier,” Virgil stated pointing to one of the chests Patton had explored after dinner. “Your form was excellent. A little immature maybe but that doesn’t affect your spell casting. What you lack is Instinct.

If you are a fighter class mage then you should asses any obstacle, whether it’s a locked chest or a stranger, in an instant. You have it down pretty alright with objects from what I saw, but you are clearly not trusting your gut when it comes to people. You can’t protect anyone if you don’t know how the threat measures up against the abilities of your group.

You can’t be sure if someone is a threat if you are not willing to believe someone could be a bad person. Don’t get me wrong, being optimistic about people and junk is not a flaw. But you have to be willing to accept that I might be a threat in order for your magic to tell you whether you should be worried about me. You might actually end up liking the answer.”

Patton fidgeted flustered.

“Do you really want to be too late to react if I end up trying to harm Roman?” Virgil asked.

Patton’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“Then believe that I might. Let your gut tell you if I will,” the mage from the box insisted.

Patton took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Roman’s eyes widened as he saw his friend glow blue for a moment. Patton shivered and then relaxed.

“I… I think you could. But I don’t feel like you want to harm us,” he said.

“Good job,” Virgil nodded. “This should have been lesson one after becoming a mage. And it should have been part of the theoretic studies during your wizard training. Seriously what happened to all the decent teachers at the academy the past 50 years?” The mage huffed.

The trio exchanged some looks. This man wasn’t making any sense, but he had offered them help without any prompting from them or asking something in return… Roman really didn’t know what to make of him. Was he crazy, brilliant, good or bad?

Logan looked at Virgil, studying him and his eyes glowed blue. “Wait… Now I know where I heard your title before… You are the mage from the stories of old! The one who tamed the stars!” Logan exclaimed. And just like that the stories came rushing back to Roman.

“Oh! I remember!” Patton exclaimed. “The story said your house is so full of spirits it’s practically alive,” he pointed out.

“And that you laughed in death’s face!” Roman added wide eyed.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “That’s all a little exaggerated, but I guess that would be me,” he huffed reluctantly.

“But… Are you sure it was only 50 years sir?- I mean Virgil,” Roman corrected when he saw Virgil’s warning look. “Because you played a pivotal role in the founding of my grandfather’s home town… And they are celebrating their 100th jubilee next fall,” he continued confused.

“Oh. Your gramps is from Sanlow? Small world. I was at the 50 year jubilee, they know how to throw a party. I might pop by for the 100th if I’ve figured out who put me in a box and where they put my friends by then…” Virgil chuckled. “Guess they’d be surprised to see me,” he smiled a little fondly.

Well, he was the guy… But how did he not look like he’d been at least seventy when he went in the box…

The group exchanged looks again. Wondering if it was wise to ask.

“Anyway, if you four will give me an hour for a powernap,” Virgil said as stretched himself.

“I have more questions before I can get started on finding my friends and I guess I’ll answer a few in return, plus there is that favor so we should make sure you guys can cash it in. But before any of that, I really need to recharge. See you,” he bid before heading for the stairs.

“You can’t sleep in The Arch Mage’s bed!” Logan exclaimed, his voice skipping an octave in indignation.

Virgil turned. “I wasn’t gonna. I’m not wasting magic on making a bed that’s been abandoned for 30 years passable. I just need a bit of free floor, which I don’t have much of here especially if you three are gonna keep doing whatever it is you were here for while I nap.

You are gonna have to tell me who this guy is when I get back by the way,” he said dismissively before making his way down the stairs.

“That… That was a lot,” Roman mused, looking at the stone in his hand thoughtfully.

“I know you said he wasn’t intending on harming us Patton, but I still do not trust him. Whether on purpose or by ignorance, he seems to disregard all magical decorum and he is clearly insistent on making us do the same,” Logan huffed.

“But… He wasn’t wrong… his guidance helped,” Roman offered.

“This time. And it didn’t do me that much good. He got lucky with you two,” Logan insisted.

“What did you see that made you realize who he was?” Roman asked curiously.

Logan opened his mouth and then turned away flustered.

“Not… Not his past really. But I saw some of his spells… That’s when it clicked,” Logan admitted.

Roman looked around them, at the little lights floating in the air.

“Well, we might as well take the time we have to finish up here for the day. Maybe think of what we can ask the High Mage later. Maybe he knows something that will help us, even if he doesn’t realize it yet. While he was locked up before the Plague and the Arch Mage became famous, he was clearly very active in the decades before. They might’ve crossed paths. He might know of a secondary home or something useful,” Roman suggested.

Logan and Patton nodded. Though Logan still seemed a bit put off by his experience.

Roman knew his friend. He was likely torn between blaming Virgil and feeling like he was lacking in talent himself to not get it ‘right’ the way Roman and Patton had.

He understood why Logan was apprehensive of the man. Part of Roman was also scared of him and his casual attitude towards dangerous things.

But he couldn’t help but feel like the powerful man was sincere in his gratitude and helpful intent.

The medic shook his head and turned to the piles of items. Best figure out what might be useful later and compile it. Tomorrow they had to have some kind of clue.

[positivelybeastly]

X-Force #50

All right, well, we finally did it, gang. We hit the big 5-0, and it's all done. And guess what?

It's all up hill from here! Wednesday spoilers below the cut, and . . . quite a lot of rambling? If I'm honest?

So, we open up on X-Force trying to kill good Hank and Simon, because they are dumb, despite Kid Omega and Sage asserting their genius. They blow up their little gay boat of love, and our intrepid heroes get pitched into the drink.

So . . . this is . . .

Why is Simon wearing a rebreather/oxygen tank?

Dear reader, I implore you to open this link, and scroll down to Simon Williams' powers and abilities.

Immortality: Williams is functionally immortal. Because of the ionic energy that empowers him, he no longer ages and is immune to disease and infection. This same energy sustains Williams' physical vitality far more efficiently than the biochemical process that sustain ordinary human life.

Self-Sustenance As a result of his transformation he no longer requires food, sleep, water or oxygen to survive. Simon is now a fully energized entity who can sustain himself indefinitely without nourishment, easily able to live outside habitable planet orbit.

Benjamin Percy, writer; Drew Baumgartner, Assistant Editor; Mark Basso, Editor; Jordan D. White, Senior Editor.

All four of these men are incapable of Googling basic facts about a character that Marvel has owned and been using since the 1960s. Basic facts that are available if you do so much as a basic skim of the man's Wiki page.

So, why is Simon wearing a rebreather/oxygen tank? So that evil Beast can destroy it and send Simon up to the surface, and good Beast and evil Beast can talk uninterrupted. That's the only actual reason. This is laziness from both an editorial and a writing standpoint, since you could have easily just had evil Beast use some kind of gadget to achieve the same effect, but don't worry! This won't be the most egregious lack of attention to detail this issue!

Yaaaaaay . . .

"My Beast," huh, Simon?

Gay.

Also, this scene makes X-Force look fucking pathetic, because Simon could literally wipe the floor with every one of them and not break a sweat. Simon 'my fists are LITERALLY as strong as Thor's hammer' Williams has nothing to fear from fucking Omega Red. His pacifism is the only thing keeping you from looking even stupider than you already do.

Orchis attacks to give the rest of X-Force something to do. I don't care.

But we do get this funny fuckin' shit.

Tie him up?

Logan, did you forget the last time you fought Simon? Or the time before that?

Anyway, the Beasts talk. It's not a particularly interesting conversation, for the most part.

God, this plan is just so fucking stupid.

But.

There is one moment that actually kinda works.

It's really funny to me that two of the worst Beast writers of all time, Brian Michael Bendis and Benjamin Percy, both managed to grok this essential fact - Hank McCoy loved being this version of Hank McCoy.

He was happy.

He was comfortable.

He was loved.

Feline Hank, as much as I love him, as much as he's my favourite iteration of the character, was never happy in his skin. How could he be? It wasn't something he chose, it was forced upon him. To save his life.

Well, what if he didn't want to be saved? What if he felt his life was so miserable that he might've thought, perhaps I should just let it all end?

He had moments, sure. But he never really escaped this feeling. This fear, this anxiety, this trauma, this pain. He carried it with him for the rest of his life. Just constant trauma, death, misery, regret, mistakes, chances not taken, failures.

But he would never be the same again. It's funny. He's the version I love most, but he's the version of Hank who could never love himself.

Which . . . is partly why it bugs me when people say Hank has internalised mutantphobia. Like, he kinda does, but I honestly don't really feel like it's quite that simple. He's comfortable in his simian form, he loves it, he only very occasionally angsts about it, he is happy. It's when he turns feline that he hates his mutant 'gift,' because now he has to worry about what might come next.

This is not the same as, I hate my mutant powers because they make my life inconvenient, because it means people hate and fear me. He can deal with that. He's been dealing with that since he was seventeen and nearly beaten to death by an angry mob for saving a child.

This is, I hate my mutant powers because they are turning me into something less than human or mutant. Because I am a danger. Because I am in danger.

And his fears are validated. He nearly kills Blindfold and Armour. He eats Logan's leg, tastes human flesh. He spends the last seven issues of Whedon's Astonishing X-Men with the taste of human skin and meat on his lips. How the fuck is he meant to be happy like this?

Anyway, back to X-Force. The two Beasts fight. Orchis shit happens.

Fuck off, Logan. Stop acting like you're at all relevant to proceedings.

Gay.

"X-Force ain't the ones you root for. But we get the dirty jobs done."

You didn't fucking do anything.

Hank and Simon could have fixed this entire mess without you. The only reason you were fighting a Sentinel was because you drew it to your location with your jet, firing at a gay little blue man and his fruity ionic boyfriend! You didn't contribute anything!

And then, as if to cap it all off . . .

What a self-aggrandising load of wank.

Hey, what was Colossus' plot arc through this series?

He spent 5 years being mind controlled and killed his girlfriend.

What was Domino's plot arc through this series?

Well, she got hurt a lot. There was that one time she got skinned. That was fun.

What was Laura Kinney's plot arc through this series?

There were entire issues where she didn't speak a fucking word.

You had.

50.

ISSUES.

And this is the best you could come up with?

"The plan was always for the war without to lead to the war within these two characters."

Is that why Wonder Man was more important to the climax of your book than Logan?

Go step on a fucking Lego, Ben.

This was allegedly a run all about black ops wetwork, the sacrifice of your soul to the harsh work that protecting your country requires, the inexorable slide towards moral degradation that comes from compromise.

It ended with a blue man in a stupid plant suit sacrificing himself to save a D-list actor from a bomb that would have crushed Mars into a pocket dimension, all so that his clone can go and become roommates with said D-list actor.

Ben Percy, of all the writers the X-office has welcomed into its midst, you were certainly one of them.

I just . . . this was what was worth jettisoning 40 years of Hank McCoy's personal history for? This cockamamie bullshit? This excuse for you to whip your dick out and pretend you're Larry Hama, when you can barely measure up to Chuck Austen?

Also, Jonathan Hickman, you're kind of on my shitlist for this, too. You may write a halfway decent comic book every now and then - and make no mistake, they're mostly halfway decent, I think he scrapes greatness with his ideas, but his execution is. Dry.

But that's better than his eye for talent, clearly.

I hate being negative. I feel guilty every time. I don't enjoy it. I hate to dwell. I hate to spiral. I hate to obsess over things.

But X-Force is just . . .

X-Force was, just shit. I will go to my grave telling anyone who'll listen that it's not worth reading.

"It'll read better in trades!" No, it won't.

"It has such a good team!" If you burn a pie made of good ingredients, you still have a burnt pie to eat.

"The art is so good!" And if you put sprinkles in a toilet bowl, it's still a toilet. It just looks prettier now.

Oh, and just in case anyone from Marvel ever reads this - they won't, they only hang around on Twitter so people can jerk off about the panels they write explicitly to be shared by the X-stans - I've pirated every comic I've read in the last 10 years. Every issue of X-Force? Pirated. All these caps? Pirated. Every time someone asks me where to read comics, what to read? Pirate links.

I didn't pay a dime for this series. I still feel like I got ripped off.

I almost can't believe it's over . . . what am I going to do with my life now that I don't have X-Force to complain about?

Oh, yeah. I can just read good comics. Nearly forgot about that.

But hey. That leads me to . . . I don't know, I guess, the end of an era.

Because Hank didn't get his memories back. Maybe he will in the future, but I don't have faith that there's anyone at Marvel that feels this strongly about Beast, so I doubt it. I need to write this down, anyway, for the catharsis. It'll help me say goodbye.

Rest in peace, Hank McCoy, 1985-2018.

You were the Beast I fell in love with. You were the man who taught me to be gentle when the world was unkind. You were the man who taught me that sometimes you don't have to love the body you're in, you just have to want to keep on going, because it can get better. There's always that chance. You were the man who led me to my boyfriend of 12 years, who I love more dearly than anything else on the planet. You were my friend when I didn't have many, and you've helped me make a lot of friends I quite appreciate. People I'm proud to know.

You're gone now. A lot of people aren't going to mourn you. They don't appreciate what was lost. But that's okay. I'll tell anyone who'll listen how brilliant you were. I'll try not to hold it against the version of you I'm left with, that he isn't you. He was you once. He could be like you again. Maybe better. I'd like that. I hope that's the case.

I'll keep writing you. I honestly don't think I could ever stop.

I'll try my best not to be sad that you're gone.

I'll try my best to instead be simply glad that you happened.

I'll give the past its due.

Which is all you can do, in the end, for the dead and for the past.

Well.

That, and live.

[tomwambsmilk]

Okay, so I've been cataloguing and connecting the succ trailer outfits, and I think I've managed to connect a bunch of scenes into episode 1, Logan's birthday (titled Listen Here, Lady, if the rumours are correct). This is a long post so I'm throwing it below a cut:

Okay. Starting off, we have logan in that blue sweater with the checked shirt. It's shown up before, too - that's what he's wearing in the first teaser when he stares out the window. Let's look at where else he wears it:

He's wearing it in this shot, where he's leaving what appears to be some kind of study. And this is where we can start connecting some outfit dots. Take a look at this Greg outfit:

That's the same outfit Greg is wearing here, just with the jacket done up:

It's also the same outfit Greg is wearing here (which fits, since Tom's outfit looks the same as the one in the above shot where Logan walks away):

So, we know that this study shot is the tail end of a long event - one with several invited guests, including Connor and Willa. Plus - that's the same outfit Nick Braun was wearing in the instagram post he made about the start of s4 filming, and there were set leaks in the first couple days (around the same time) of the cast singing happy birthday to Logan. So, my guess is that all these scenes are from Logan's birthday in episode 1. Additionally, all the other gatherings in the trailer appear to be for other purposes, and the 1% dialogue feels to me like establishing dialogue. (That also means Greg seems to have gained some kind of girlfriend over the break, who disappears as the evening drags on. Interesting.)

Now, some people have suggested this Tom outfit is the same one he wears in the argument with Shiv:

But while it does look similar... I hesitate. Because here's what Shiv's wearing:

But let's circle back to Logan's outfit from this event in a different scene - this convo with Kerry:

Kerry is wearing a blue blazer here - a blue blazer which is the same one she's wearing in this scene of the teaser, where she's on the phone with the Roy siblings:

But while she's on the phone with them, Shiv is not only wearing a completely different outfit from the tomshiv confrontation - she's in a different time zone:

It's late at night where Kerry is, and it's daytime where the siblings are, so it's reasonable to assume that they're in California at this point. That seems to be backed up by this shot, where Shiv appears to be wearing the same brown jacket while getting into a car with a palm tree in the background:

Kerry's outfit here is far more distinctive than Tom's - Tom's worn several white shirt-blue blazer combos before, so I think it's more likely for Tom's outfit to be either a repeat or a very similar outfit than Kerry's. Alternatively, it's possible that the kids are in California, and then fly back, and Shiv changes her outfit. But that makes the timeline of the event a bit screwy, imo.

Oh, but let's take another look at this same Logan outfit, in a scene he shares... with Tom.

You can see the design on Tom's shirt more clearly here, and there are faint stripes which aren't on the shirt he's wearing in the tomshiv confrontation - again, making that seem like something from a different event or episode. (The outfit from that confrontation, though, IS the same one he's wearing when he greets Logan on the tarmac. More on that later.) If I'm right about the context of this event, that means this is, again, and episode one conversation between Tom and Logan. It's also during the day, and there aren't many people around. Did Tom come to Logan's birthday early? Was he invited early? Could togan.... be re- *gunshot*

One last thing. Where does Logan go when he leaves the party? Well, according to the BTS photos... to dinner with Colin:

Based on the booth design and the outfit, this is the scene with Logan's dialogue about being 100 ft tall, ect:

Anyways, let's circle back to the kids. Those outfits are distinct, so we know where else we've seen them:

Unfortunately, this location only shows up in this shot, so this is where the trail goes dead. Except...

Kendall's wearing the same outfit here, in this shot of the theatre. What's going on? Who knows. I have no guess. But - they do seem to be connected.

There are still lots more outfits to catalogue, but this is what I have so far! It's all coming together....

[charles-leclerc-official]

F1 Secret Santa damage report:

"This is for the boat" ~ Captain Fernando!

"22, who's number 22?" LANCE please

"It's dragon which means Zhou!" His little smile in the apron omg

"That's not a calendar is it?" words said moments before disaster "Thanks Charles for sending me Valtteri's ass." !!!!!! Charles what did you do?

"I normally expect something funny for these kind of secret santa - Now I can play against Fernando very soon." Charles do you promise?

"Well that's a tripod" so true

"I love my coffee especially with such a cool emoji" 🥱

"That's to put my toothbrush I guess" never change Esteban never change

"I'll probably keep hold of this a good couple of hours before I get rid of it"

"It's probably gonna be from Logan"

"I have no idea I just need to get it open"

"It's very light, that's not very good ah. CRISPS??? Not very prepared are they" Lando being Lando and we love that XD

"This literally could be anyone *giggles* Oscar's on here"

"I honestly have no idea, apart from the fact that they told me about 5 mins ago by accident" Dani how does that happen Dani? LMAO

"I came late so I got a bone to pick with whoever selected it" Daniel firing shots before he even knows who it is XD "This is not the first time I've received alcohol for secret santa"

"Yellow shoes. They're not really my style but I like them. I think I can wear them at some point"

"Interesting - a simple lovely look at butts in art. It's really creative actually" He had the hard read on Max lmao

"I think we have to start with the card right, it's always the most important" you sentimental ass giving softie

"This is dangerous"

"Are you gonna wear them though?"

*Nods* "No"

Carlos just try them on one time it might be fun

"This is a beautiful gift. He knows Valtteri very well. And he will know Valtteri even better with my gift" *evil giggling*

11/10 secret santa video!!!!!!!!