CosmicDreamWorld

•27 •Trash panda & human disaster •Favourite number: 5

[cosmicdreamworld]

How Does He...

Notes/Notes: Reader is gender neutral. Takes place in TWD:DD when he's in France. No warnings aside from minor language and angst/sadness.

Relationship: Established, yet broken up

"So, your lover, Tell me about them," she prompts

He thought for a while, there was so much he could and wanted to say about you, about him - about the life you two had.

How does he say your snores, albeit annoying and kept him up most of the night, are now a sound he misses all too much? Though having been used to sleeping in silence for so long, he grew so used to and fond of you nasal symphony, that now sleeping in nothing but utter silence is impossible.

How does he say that your feet, like appendaged icicles, that you thought was always so funny to shove between his legs at night to warm them up, is now a sensation he'd give anything to feel again? How does he say he never truly hated it?

How does he say that your blind faith in him always amazed him?

How does he say that you calling him pet names in public, never really annoyed or embarrassed him? How does he say that, sure, he'd grumbled, tell you to knock it off; but inside it warmed his heart and eased his mind, knowing that you were so unashamed of people knowing you were with him. He could never understand it, how someone so amazing, could, so publicly, proudly, and so unashamed, love someone who was nothing more than redneck trash.

How does he say he regrets all the long nights filled with stupid fights? All the jealousy filled ones or the ones full of fear but twisted into anger so you couldn't tell.

How does he say that the first time you told him you love him, he ran, and stayed gone for a week. How does he say that he pretended not to see the hurt in your eyes as you silently beat yourself up for, what you thought, was saying it too soon and scaring him away. That if he had been half the man he wanted to be for you, he would have said it back.

How does he say he regrets not being the man you deserved? How does he say he regrets never being the man for you he should have been? It had been so simple, if he didn't have so much self-doubt and had any self-esteem or confidence at all, he would have asked; made it as real as you could during an apocalypse. The way Maggie and Glenn were, but he was so insecure, too self destructive to allow it; instead choosing to simply shut the idea down permanently.

How does he say the first time you tried out his last name, he yelled at you for behaving so childishly. Telling you that "this is the real world, ain't no room for childish bullshit. You're grown, act like it." How does he say he liked it more than he was willing to ever admit. He wanted that, wanted you to use his last name as your own, but he was scared. He was always scared.

How does he say that the first time you brought up having a family with him - children, two or three - with him, he blew up; screamed in your face. "How stupid and selfish can ya be? Wantin' to bring children int' this shit. Get that fantasy out of your head. Ain't the old world no more." How does he say that when he slammed the door shut, that he had lied. He had pictured it so many times. A house, yard, couple of kids running barefoot; he wanted it, but he was too scared. Too scared to tell you, too scared to feel like he trapped you into that, and most importantly, too scared of becoming a mirror of his own father.

How does he say there was a time he broke your trust beyond repair. Looking for Rick, filled with pain and guilt, he found solace in the arms of someone else. A woman, who's name he'd rather forget. A shared cabin and intimacy, that he'd rather forget. Yet, after returning, after the confession, and your eyes filled with tears, and a forced smile on your face - through the leaving, through the infidelity - you forgave him. Almost to the point of your own detriment, you were always so forgiving - especially to him. More so in the times he knew he never deserved it. He realized, now, how true it was when you always said you could never stay mad at him for anything. You loved him through it all, and he selfishly took advantage of that.

How does he say that he's the reason your heart broke that day. That the tears that fell so freely from your eyes were his fault, when he told you he was leaving. That when you begged and pleaded for him to stay, but he couldn't; when, you then, begged him to take you with, but he wouldn't. How does he say he broke his own heart that day too.

How does he say, that every day, he prays to anything, that you're still at home, waiting for him; How can he possibly, selfishly, say that he hopes and prays that when he comes home, you'll still be his, and he'll still be yours.

*Little did he know, you were. You always would. Until your journey in this world was over - until your took your last breath and you heart beat its last - you would always wait for him*

And how does he say the one thing he never said at all? He always tried but the words would always stay stuck in his throat . He tried in his own way with feeble gestures - but nothing that would solidify it your mind. If he had been even half the man he knew you deserved  - he always said you deserved  better than him - he could have said it; but maybe that was why - he wanted you to find better, even when you'd always reassure him you already had the best. Three simple words that he knew would have meant the world for you to hear from him, but never did - and now you may never.

None of it came out though, all he could do is stare at the road ahead; focusing on the present journey, while forcing the memories down. It's all he could do to stop from breaking down

[weirdoneattheparty]

Sam Porter Bridges Headcanons

A/N: this is me doing headcanons for the first time so I'm not sure I did it right. They escalate to nfsw, but there's a divide there. I guess it's more of a Sam x you imagines. But if not on tumblr, then where else, right? These are purely self-indulgent. Don't agree — just scroll by. Kinda scared cause I have no idea how gaming fandoms work🙈

@darylsdelts thanks for telling me to write it. I probably would've kept it all in my head if not for you

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

One time, he tore his jumpsuit, and the only thing available was in light pink, and you absolutely loved it, calling him cute and adorable. So on occasion, he'd wear it again instead of his usual dark gray, grumbling that all his other stuff is in the laundry, but secretly, he just enjoys how happy you get when he wears it.

He'd keep every little thing you gave him. Once you gave him a couple of wild flowers you found, and thought they looked like him. They were purple, with thorns, not the kind someone would choose for a bouquet. But if you handle them carefully, you could admire them forever. He scoffed and said he didn't look like any flower, but then he strapped them to his backpack and carried them until there were only stems left.

He loves how good you are with his BB. How you always smile and tap on the pod saying hi. He loves how you don't treat the baby as equipment despite what the Bridges tells you all. It makes his heart stutter in that weird way, and he'd get that soft little smirk going.

He's sassy. First, in a grumpy, annoyed kind of way, maybe even coming across as mean. "You sure it's the best way to pack your backpack?" Later, more in a playful, teasing way. "Those are some tight pants. I do enjoy looking, but I will enjoy it more when you rip them on the road."

He'd be taken aback by how you consciously always made sure not to invade his personal space since the minute you learned about his phobia.

The first time you came "too close" and he didn't flinch with his breath hitching not in the usual way, he stayed up all night thinking about it.

He'd go ages mauling over how you got under his skin and how you deserve better, a man who can actually touch his woman. Thinking about you as "his woman" would bring a little smile to his face, but then he'd crush it and shove the feeling deep down. It's not real, he'd say to himself.

You'd have to be the one to make the proverbial first move, convincing him he's enough. After a while, you got tired of his buts and what-ifs and listed all the ways you could do things, making the man a blushing mess. (Yes, you thought about all of those options before. A lot.)

He would be the first to initiate the first touch. You were on some joint delivery. You were going on and on about how you hated going to this place, how terrain was shit, and so on, and he just watched your face, that little smile creeping up on his, barely registering your words. He touched your gloved hand with his just barely. For a second, you thought he just brushed it on accident, but then he hooked his index finger with yours, and that shut you up real quick. You basically melted into a puddle and wore a stupid grin all the way to your destination.

You'd start with him getting comfortable with you being closer than at arm's length. With time, he'd stop tensing up when you came up close. He loved your breath on his skin, especially his lips. You were so close, but he trusted you with himself fully, trusted you not to touch.

Hear me out. Two words. Mutual self-masturbation. It was the first real thing you actually did together. It was awkward at first. Both of you were blushing like hell. But the way you looked at him? It set his whole body on fire. The way you looked pleasuring yourself, moaning and sighing, and then you moaned his name, and he was done for.

It was his favorite. Until one time, you knelt in front of him looking up, your mouth wide open, and he got to cum right on your tongue. Now, that was his favorite.

First, he'd be comfortable with clothes over clothes touching. Any kind of touching. The first time you dry humped he came so fast he was grumpy and embarrassed for a week. Despite the million times you told him that that was hot.

He'd come around eventually because having you in his lap was heavenly. Your ragged breaths right into his ear, you holding onto his shoulders like your life depended on it, your hips rolling just right? It all made his head swim.

The amount of underwear you ruined, because he was so in the moment, he didn't even notice it until it was too late, is insane, embarrassing, and also kinda hot.

He doesn't have a particularly high sex drive. But now that you're doing all this, how can he deny you? He'd pat his thigh for you to climb on, he'd hold your waist gently, letting you just grind on him. Whispering dirty nothings in your ear. He's gotten strangely good at that. He'd grab your ass dragging you over his thigh when your movements would stutter watching your face as you came undone.

[cosmicdreamworld]

[littleclownzz]

[tomshardy]

[cosmicdreamworld]

😭 TFW you wanna have this conversation with you own father..

[cosmicdreamworld]

I Want You To Be Happier

You knew it was bound to happen, between the stolen glances and subtle smiles; you had been putting it off for months, but you couldn't keep it up. So, to spare yourself an even worse of a heartache you pushed your own happiness aside for his.

"You're breaking up with me? What did I do?"

You could feel the burning liquid in your eyes building. "Nothing. You did nothing wrong."

"Then why?" You could tell he was confused and heartbroken as well.

You sniffled, "Logan, I love you. I always have, for so, so long, but you were never mine to love," you noticed Jean watching you two, he followed your gaze. He understood. "Now," you say wiping your tears, "Go get 'er," you fake a smile.

Logan gently placed his hands on your shoulders, refusing to meet your gaze, knowing that if he did, his tears would spill as well. "What about you?" It was barely a hint of a whisper, if you hadn't been listening, you wouldn't have even known he had spoken.

You raised you hand and placed it on his cheek, taking a second to skim your thumb over his lips. You gave him a lopsided smile - half fake, half real, "Darling, I'm used to this kind of thing. It's fine, I'll be okay, I'll be fine - I always am. I'll deal, I promise, now go. You're true loves waiting."

And so he went; he went to Jean and you were left to deal with it - but what Logan didn't know was your way of dealing was locking yourself in your room to cry with the biggest bottle of whiskey you could find at the liquor store.

[cosmicdreamworld]

Erik Lehnsherr: Over Again

Pairing: Erik/Fem. Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2049

Taking one last look over at yourself, making sure your hair was in place and the makeup you had on wasn't smudged, you made your way downstairs, careful not to trip. Charles and Erik turned their attention from their chess game to you.

"Well, don't you look stunning," Charles complimented. You couldn't help but blush. "However; don't you think that dress is a bit short?"

"Charles," you playfully warned.

"Sorry, love, but when most men see a beautiful, young women with something like that on, their thoughts are rarely pure."

You heard Erik scoff in disgust. Erik didn't like you, you were human, brought in by Charles. Charles stumbled upon you one night, beat up and bloody outside a bar. You had stood up for a young mutant who had come in for a drink. Charles brought you back to the mansion until you recovered; it ended in you being asked to stay permanently. Charles enjoyed the energy you brought to the mansion and the students liked having you around even if you were simply human. Erik, however; did not, he hated humans, hated them for what they've done to mutants - therefore, hated you.

"Charles," you sighed, "He's a nice guy."

"The fellow with green scales? The one from the bar that night?" You nodded. "Yes, well, for his sake, he better be nice," Charles warned.

You sat down next to Charles, waiting for 8:30 to come, waiting for him to pick you up.

"Erik, what you say we head our for a night on the town?" Erik agreed, so that left you alone, staring at the clock - impatiently waiting.

8:30 passed, then 9:30, and by 11:00, you knew he wasn't coming. Going back upstairs, you change into sweatpants and a comfy shirt and made your way back down to sit on the couch, letting a few tears fall, not even caring that they'll mess up any of your makeup. You cursed yourself, telling yourself how stupid you were to think anyone - human or mutant - would actually be interested in you. Fiddling with the chess pieces, you jump when you hear someone come in.

Charles and Erik were back. Charles called out your named, clearly inebriated, "I didn't expect to see you home so early, if you know what I mean," he laughed, but seemed to sober up rather quick when he really had the chance to take in your appearance; clothes that were too large, hair tied up, and dried tear stains and running mascara on your cheeks. He quickly came to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "Love, what happened?"

You sniffled, "He never showed up," you mumbled. Charles ran his hand up and down your arm to try and comfort you.

Stoically, Erik threw in his two cents, "He's a mutant, you're a worthless human, what did you expect? Perhaps, it'd be best to stay in your lane when choosing future potential suitors."

"Erik, that's enough," Charles growled.

"What?" He laughed, "I'm simply stating the truth. She's not one of us. No matter how hard she tries to fit in, she never will."

"Erik," Charles warned.

"You know what, Lehnsherr?" You finally stood up and wiped away the tears, "I don't know what your problem is - aside from the obvious - but I never did anything to you. I have been nothing but nice to you since I've been here, even when you didn't deserve it. I've accepted you, I've cared about you, I stood up for you - for mutants. Not every human is the way you think. Some of us want mutants around."

"How touching," Erik sarcastically retorted, "But we don't need you to do any of that, we don't want or need some pathetic, weak humans pity. We can stand perfectly on our own without someone like you trying to be a white knight. You will never belong here. You are not wanted here."

"ERIK! THAT IS ENOUGH," Charles had enough.

Walking up to Erik, you look him dead in the eyes, "That's fine cause I never asked to be here in the first place," you whispered, shoving past him and walking out the door.

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose, "Was that really necessary?"

"Yes, she has to understand her people are the reason we have to hide."

"Don't lie to me, Erik. I can see there's more to how you treat her than just your hatred towards humanity," even though he promised not to invade people minds, he knew Erik would never tell the whole story. So, he did what he had to; placing two fingers to his temple, he closed his eyes and delved into Erik's mind. Every memory, and every thought he had; most recently of you.

His every thought, deepest desire for you, every little detail from the colors in your eyes, to the color you paint your toes. The guilt of treating you like dirt beneath his shoes, the wanting of needing to get to know you. The fear of getting to know you and then you leaving somehow, and being torn between being in a sense of love, a feeling he never thought he'd have or want again, and a sense of hatred because you're not mutant.

A war waged inside himself , a war of him not wanting to be in love, he was a death sentence for anyone who he loved, and he couldn't bear to lose you, so he chose to hate you, out of every human, the most; hoping those feelings would eventually go away. Yet part of the war was not wanting to let you go. He needed you to keep him steady, he needed you to help keep him together; from breaking anymore than he had. He needed your peace to calm the storm that was raging inside. You were his peace, you made him smile - even if you never saw it.

Charles released his hold on Erik's mind, he smiled a little. "So that's it, huh? You don't hate her. You don't even care anymore that she's human, you're just scared to get close to her."

Erik said nothing, he just stood there avoiding Charles' gaze and the conversation at hand.

"Now she's gone. Tell me, Erik, was your fear worth losing her? Was it worth never truly knowing if she felt the same?"

"You don't understand. I'm a death sentence for anyone I care for. I can't, I won't lose someone else."

"We will never know the future, Erik. It's best to simply take it as it comes. If everyone were to let fear dictate what they do, nobody would be doing anything. At least go find her, bring her back inside before anything happens to her. You owe her that."

Erik's searching was nothing short of fruitless, that was until he checked in the garden - and there you were, wiping stray tears with the back if your hand and quietly sniffling as you stared at the stars. He took a seat next to you, earning a quick gaze his way followed by a scoff.

"Let me guess, Charles sent you out to find me?"

Erik's only answer was silence; you rolled your eyes.

"Figured. No way you'd come for me on your own accord. You can go and tell him I'll be back in about a half hour." You had so much more you wanted to say, your body ached for an answer, so taking a chance, you let it all out.

"I still don't know what I did to make you hate me so much," you whispered. "I know, I'm human, that's it, but you seem to treat me so much worse and I just want to know why; and why do you treat humanity so poorly? I know the things humans have done to mutants, but not everyone of us is like that. You can't just judge and eradicated a whole populous just based off the few bad ones you've encountered. These humans you hate? Some have mutant children that need their parents, and some mutants have human children that need them. You're recreating the very thing that tore you and your family apart when you were just a child. Erik," you pleaded, "After everything he took from you, do you really want to be like Shaw? Cause that's what you're doing. Erik, I am pleading with any shred of humanity you have left, please, you don't have to rely on us, but don't kill us."

"I hate you, I trust you know that right?" There were no emotions  in his words, like he hadn't even heard you at all. You wiped away the tears the escaped during your speech and the new ones that fell when he ignored the whole thing.

"I hate you, but not for the reason you think anymore," something in his words made you look at him, maybe it was how quiet his voice was, the slight crack that was in it, or maybe its because you could hear the build up of tears. "Yes, I hate that you're human, but that matters so little to me anymore. What I hate with you is the way you make me feel. You make me feel wrong - I know I'm wrong about what I'm doing and I hate that you make me know it. I hate that you make me feels things I never wanted to again - hope, happiness, love, caring, - I don't want to care about another person, cause everyone I ever cared for ended up dying because of me," Erik turned to you, every pent up emotion he held came out in just the look in his eyes. "I'm scared because I can't lose another one, I can't lose you. I thought that if I just kept pretending I hated you, that these feeling would go away."

You felt a small smile tug at your lips. "Erik, no matter how hard you try, feelings will always happen, its inevitable - and they usually come at the most inopportune time, a moment when you least expect it. Ignoring them isn't going to make them go away and pretending to hate something when you don't isn't going to change your mind about not hating it. Feelings are apart of life. There's no way to get rid of them and ignoring them just builds resentment. And besides, you can't lose someone you never had."

It's almost like you could feel Erik's whole being - mind, body, and spirit - just collapse in on its self. You couldn't understand why, not until you thought back on what you said. It was the last line: you can't lose someone you never had. Those seven words were almost like a final blow, making him realize he just lost someone else. What's worse was that it wasn't even someone he could have in the first place - not after his treatment of you, at least he thought.

"But," you began, a smile stretching across your lips as you looked at him, "Maybe, just maybe, a certain weak, worthless, pathetic human shares that same soft spot for a certain metal controller," still smiling as you nudged him in the ribs softly. "And maybe, if you're willing, and we can start this over again, one step at a time, you'll find that not everything leaves, and that caring for someone doesn't always end in disaster."

Erik smiled, a genuine smile that was your first time seeing. Finally getting to see that side of him brought out an even bigger smile than you had on. Just knowing that for once, he might feel okay was enough to make you feel on cloud nine.

"I'd like that," Erik whispered.

A comfortable silence fell between you two as you watched the stars and Erik watched you, a small smiled etched on his face. After what seemed like an hour, you noticed a hand extended towards you.

"Erik Lehnsherr, pleased to meet you."

You smiled, extending your hand to shake it. "(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N), pleased to meet you."

Letting go, you noticed him look back at the mansion, you deducted Charles must be talking to him.

"Mind if I walk you home?" His smile was still there.

Giving him a shy smile, you link your arm with his, "Not at all."

[cosmicdreamworld]

Hank McCoy: Painted The Stars

Pairings: Hank McCoy/Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2095

"Hank, can you hand me the wire cutters, please," you asked, holding out your hand.

"Hank?" Still nothing, it was like the lab had been deserted, but then you looked up, trying to figure out where he went and that's when you saw it, plain as day.

Raven. It's not that you hated Raven, you thought she was nice, but it always pained you the way Hank would look at her - the same way he is now. Eyes lit up, hanging on her every words, his cheeks dusted pink cause she brushed his arm, he was beginning to stutter cause he was getting nervous. The same way he was when you and him first got together - now you were practically invisible and second best.

Quietly, undetected, you slipped out of the lab, to your room to pack your bags. You made sure your thoughts were loud enough for Charles to hear and made him promise not to tell Hank. You had everything planned and the taxi called - grabbing your bag, you walked the end of the road, making sure you didn't miss your cab.

"(Y/N), wait," a small voice called from the distance. Turning around you saw Hank running to catch up. Catching up, he looked at you confused. "You're leaving, why?"

"I uh- I got a better job offer," you lied.

"Liar, Charles said its because of me. What have I done wrong?"

'Goddamn it, Charles! You promised you wouldn't tell him.'

'Sorry, (Y/N), but he deserves the right to know and I knew you wouldn't tell him.'

"It's for the best, it's for your happiness, Hank."

"My happiness? My happiness is you, it's you staying. (Y/N), I love you."

You give a small smile to fight back the tears. "Now you're the liar, cause you don't."

Hank opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.

"No, just don't. I can see it, so can everyone else. You don't love me, you love Raven. The way you hang on her every word, the way you smile when you see her walk into a room. How you blush when she compliments you, how you stumble over your words when you talk to her. You look at her like she hung the moon and painted the stars," you paused to catch your breath. "It's the same way you used to act around me, it's the same way you used to look at me," you whispered.

"(Y/N)," Hank whispered, you didn't even need to look in order to know he had tears on his eyes too.

"It's okay, sometimes people grow apart. That's why I'm leaving, I don't want to stand in the way. You can pursue her now and I wish you guys the best."

"So, not only are you leaving, but you're breaking up with me?" His voice was breaking and it killed you, but you thought it was for the best. Looking down the road, your taxi was in sight. Grabbing your bag, on your tips toes, you place a kiss on his cheek.

"Goodbye, Hank. I love you."

Getting in the taxi, you didn't dare look back for fear of not being able to control the tears.

••6 months later••

Theo and you were so engrossed in conversation, neither of you heard the sets of footsteps that walked into the break room.

"Wait, so you're meaning to tell me that you can build quinjets, build fighter jets, pilot them, breathe and control fire, you're a telepath, and can manipulate and rebuild any molecular composition, and split atoms, yet you can't even knit a pair of socks," Theo laughed unable to believe what you had just told him.

You laughed and gave Theo a little push, "Oh hush, I'm not a knitter, alright."

"Ahem, are you two finished?"

Both of your heads snapped up at the sight of your boss, making you both stand up immediately.

"Professor Xavier, Dr. McCoy, this is Dr. Theodore Marx," he gestured to Theo, "and this is Dr-"

"(Y/N)," Charles cut him off.

"Charles," you smiled sweetly.

"Dr. (L/N), Charles tells me he has a project he'd like you to assist with. It will be a lengthy project, so I have permitted eight weeks leave for you."

"What exactly is this project?"

"(Y/N), I need you and Hank to help rebuild one of our jets. You two are the ones I trust with this the most," Charles explained.

You hesitated to answer, you were worried about having to work with Hank, you still harbored some feelings for him and working in such close proximity was sure to bring them back up.

You forced a smile, "I would love to. I'll pack my bags and be down in a minute."

'Just so you know, the only reason I accepted was for you, Charles.'

'Thank you.'

••At the Mansion••

Hank and you never had much conversation aside from discussing how to rebuild it or asking each other for tools or direction. Both of you were focused on the rebuild or talking with others.

When everyone would take a break, you'd hang around Jubilee and Peter and Hank would station himself with Logan and Charles. Hank was in mid-conversation with the two men when he heard you laugh at something Peter had said, it made his heart and his head drop - the same reaction he had when he walked in the break room and saw you with Theo.

No matter how hard Hank tried to concentrate, he'd always turn his focus to you, hoping to catch your eye, but you'd always have yourself focused at the task at hand or Peter. He was constantly hovering around you and flirting. You liked Peter, not in that way, but you indulged his flirty antics with some of your own, knowing you'd be back to your apartment in no time.

In no time the jet was rebuilt and you were on your way back after having said some tearful goodbyes; your taxi pulled up and you were on your way.

'Rememeber, (Y/N), no matter what, you are always welcome to come back.'

You noted the slight smile in his message. 'I know, thank you, Charles.'

The trip back was slightly exhausting, but you wanted to get your clothes unpacked. After taking a couple articles of clothing out, you noticed a white envelope addressed with just your name. Grabbing it and sitting on the edge of your bed, you open it and see an array of numbered pictures.

1:

The day you arrived and first met Hank. He had a small smile and was looking at his feet.

-After that day everyone joked about how you had him hook, line and sinker.

2:

You had been there just a few days shy of a month. You were sitting in the gardens admiring the flowers with Hank beside you. Except he wasn't looking at the flowers - he was looking at you, a shy smile on his face as he watched your face light up as you talked about your love of gardening.

-That was the day no one let him live down how smitten he was with you.

3:

You were at the piano, fingers dancing across the keys effortlessly. Eyes closed, feeling every note, but Hank wasn't watching how delicately your hands glided over the keys. He was watching you, completely entranced by how lost, how much you felt the music.

-Everyone started calling him 'lover boy' after that.

4:

You were in your room on bed rest after an incident on a mission, Hank was sitting on the edge of your bed with a trey in his hand - some soup, juice and new bandages scattered across it. He had promised to take care of you until you were well again. It made Hank worried sick when he realized you could have died.

-That was the day everyone, but you, knew he truly was in love.

5:

It was after your first year at the X-Mansion. You and Hank were dressed to the nines, in the middle of a slow dance, your head on his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist. Somehow the students convinced Charles to have a small dance for the students and teachers. Hank had to hype himself up, with a little help from Charles and Logan, in order to get the courage to ask you to dance.

-That was the night he decided to go for it and ask you out.

6:

You and Hank were coming back from a movie, hand and hand up the driveway, smiles on both of your faces. You had been dating for six months at the time.

-He had told he loved you and asked if you'd 'officially' be his girlfriend, even though everyone knew you already were for a while.

That was the last picture until a note, you opened it to reveal a few more pictures. The were from the recent weeks when you were helping rebuild the jet.

7:

When you arrived back at the mansion to help rebuild. Everyone encapsulated you in a group hug, while Hank just stood back, an adoring smile on his face, waiting for you to make your way to him.

-He held hope that you'd come back permanently. Hank didn't sleep that night, he was up thinking about you.

8:

Hank, hands around your waist, helping you jump out of the engine. Dirty and greasy, you climbed out of the jets engine, ready to jump. Hank noticed and dropped what he was doing to go over and help you down; he didn't want you hurt.

-He didn't want to let you go once your feet hit the ground. Hank wanted so badly to pull you into him like he used to.

9:

You, with Hank reading over you shoulder, looking at the blue prints to the jet.

At the table, you had the blue prints for the jet rolled out. You were concentrating on the paper in front of you when Hank came up behind you, pressing himself against you. You paid it no mind, continuing to focus on the diagram, letting him read over your shoulder if he wanted to.

-He never once look at the blueprints. The only thing he looked at was you. Even in the photo, anybody could see the adoration and love he still had for you.

10:

You and Peter talking. The entire time you had been there, you avoided Hank as best you could, only talking with him when neccessary. So, you usually occupied your time with Peter. Peter had walked with you to grab some tools, and that's where you decided to sit down and talk for a while. In the background was Hank - practically staring daggers towards Peter.

-He hated not be able to get your attention anymore and as ashamed as he would be to admit it, he wanted to fight Peter that day.

11:

A single picture of Hank, forlorn, back against the wall, looking at an old picture of you and him.

-He missed you, anyone could see that. If he could change what happned he would.

12:

The picture Hank had been staring at in the last photo.

You, face covered in frosting, kissing Hank.

You, on the last birthday you had at the mansion.

Hank had attempted to make you a cake and surprise you with it and small party with everyone. Jean lit the candles, and after you blew them out, some of your friends decided to push your face into it. Everyone started laughing, even Hank. As slight "revenge" you get on your tiptoes and gave Hank a long kiss on his lips, making extra sure to get frosting all over him.

-Even though he hated how sticky it made him, he wouldn't have traded that day for the world. He loved the smile you had on your face and the fun you had. He loved you then and still does now.

That was the last photo that covered the writing on the paper that held them. Unfolding the paper, you braces yourself, thinking the worst.

(Y/N),

If it wasn't obvious enough to tell, Hank never stopped. He loved you then and he loves you now. He still thinks and still looks at you like you hung the moon and painted the stars. He waits every night; he walks out to the end of the driveway, hoping you'll come back. I know you still love him too.

Please, (Y/N), won't you come back home?

-X

[miathefangirlwriter-deactivated]

People: “How are you? Are you okay?” Me On The Outside: “Yeah I’m fine.” Me On The Inside:

[cosmicdreamworld]

Scott Lang: Second Chance

Christmas was a down time for you. It seemed like everyone on the team had someone to spend it with. Steve had Bucky and Sam. Bruce had Natasha, Thor had the Asgardians, Clint had Laura and his kids, Tony had Pepper, T'Challa was in Wakanda with everyone, and Scott had Cassie.

You; however, were stuck in your run down, one bedroom apartment alone, curled up on the couch, drowning your sorrows, hoping being drunk would ward off the lonely. Your mind lingered back, back to Scott, back to where you had screwed up. In the up coming weeks that had been the countdown to Christmas, you had the brilliant idea of telling Scott just how you felt. With shaking hands and trembling knees, you layed it all out, even though you figured it'd blow up in your face. You had always been taught that if you have something to say, say it. If you love someone, tell them. So, you did, laying it all out on the table, with some hope that maybe, for once, something might just work out.

Trying to keep a straight face when he respectfully declined reciprocation of those feeling was hard, but you respected that. You can't make someone love you back. So, you thanked him for at least listening and went on your way.

At least he let me down easy you thought. So now, here you are, drowning your sorrows and loneliness with cheap whiskey and wine with sappy Hallmark movies running on marathon. Yeah, maybe you were feeling sorry for yourself, but heartbreak and having no family will do that to you.

Stupid little girl. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You're an idiot! You repeated the mantra over and over in your head. You hated yourself, hated yourself for holding just a shred of hope that something would work out once for you. Hated yourself for believing someone like him may actually hold those same feeling for you. You hated yourself for how everything went down, for letting it affect your work - it didn't just affect you, it affected everyone on the team when you started trying to avoid Scott entirely.

You felt the salty liquid that brimmed your eyes finally fall down your cheeks, you tried your best to wipe them away, but after a few large gulps of alcohol, you didn't care one way or another where they landed. No longer rubbing your sore, bloodshot eyes was helping them feel a little better, even though the tears had never stopped.

Somewhere along the line exhaustion and drunkenness took a grasp on you, your body falling into the couch, you slept soundly. Something that hadn't happened in quite sometime.

Not even a gentle knock on your door could wake you from your inebriated slumber. Stepping through the, now, open door, Scott came in looking for you. He figured since he didn't have Cassie until tomorrow, he'd pay you a visit with your favorite takeout; knowing you didn't have someone to spend the holiday with.

Placing the bag of styrofoam boxes on the table, Scott walked up to the back of the couch; noticing your curled up body laying peaceful on the couch, gentle breathes making your frame rise and fall. Once he came around the front, ready to wake you, seeing your face made his heart hurt - it broke every part of it.

Even if they were closed, he could see your eyes were red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears. The strong smell of alcohol and the sight of empty whiskey and wine bottles made him sick. An open journal with your scribbles of self deprecation, hatred, and blame for what had happened.

He knew he shouldn't have snooped, but he couldn't help himself. With each word that his eyes read, the more his heart ached to scream the truth; the more he wanted to shake you awake and tell you just how wrong you were about yourself.

I was scared, he'd tell them. I messed up my marriage, I'm a screw up. I couldn't do that to her. She's too good for me, too perfect. I'm just a disaster - she deserves better than me, he told them. If only he could have told you just how he felt that day, for he had loved you for so long.

Oh, how he wanted to jump through the ceiling out of pure happiness that someone like you would actually feel the same way about him. If only he had ran up and wrapped his arms around you, kissing you with everything he had. To take you're hand in his and dance around the kitchen like no one was watching. Anything to show you what he felt, but he didn't. He let fear overtake him.

I tried so hard not to screw up, but I still messed everything up, his mind screamed.

A subconscious shiver racked through your body, causing you to inadvertantly curl into yourself even more. Scott took notice immediately. Tiptoeing to you're room, even though he knew you wouldn't wake up for a while, he grabbed the blanket you had draped over the back of your chair. Unfolding it, he gently covered your body, careful not to break you anymore than he already had.

Watching your peaceful slumber, looking at your physically emotional broken state caused the tears he had been holding back to finally release. Placing a gentle kiss in your hair, his own tears falling into and interlacing with your locks, he cursed himself mentally.

I was so stupid, I was a coward, he chastised his cowardice. Taking in all of you agonized him, it tore him apart to realize he'd never get another chance; that he'd never be able to make things right.

Scott longed to know just what it felt like to have your lips pressed to his; to simply have a small taste of them and to feel the longing, lingering feeling he'd have on his after you pulled away. So badly he wanted explore the most intimate parts of your mind and body; to be able to taste the most intimate, physical parts of you.

Realizing he'd never be able to lace his fingers with yours and pull you close; that he'd never be able to hold you close at night and wake up to sleepy smiles and bed head with you the next morning. It registered to Scott that he most certainly wouldn't be able to get to know just who you are, where you came from, and what you dream of; all the little things that make you who you are.

All the nevers of a reality he wouldn't be able to have with you came crashing down. Grabbing your pen and ripping a blank page from your journal, before he left, Scott scribbled a small note for when you woke up:

I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like I did. If I wasn't so scared, I would have been able to tell you right then and there just how much you mean to me. I would have been able to tell you I LOVE YOU! You are everything amazing to me and more. If only I had been able to tell you. I failed at my marriage and I failed at not hurting you. Even if I had been able to let you know just how I feel, it'd always be in the back of my head that you deserve better; because you do. I know I'll never deserve it, or you, but if you'll have me and if you'll give me another chance, I swear I'll do anything and everything I can to make you the happiest person on Earth. Whatever you decide, I'll always be here.

You know where to find me,

Xx Scott

[cosmicdreamworld]

Mood AF 90% of the time