#EDIT: changed pinned to description

[celestialvexation-arch]

EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS

something's wrong with my dog, and he's been sorta off lately. i don't rlly have the money to spend for anything big, but just enough for a basic check up

so rn, i'm doing emergency comms. anyone want a fic of any ship for an amt of words?

if you just wanna donate, my kofi is in my description. paypal will be given, if needed

[realcowboysdrinkjuice]

i’m so excited to see troy’s dad i listened to the rolled today and apparently it’s not what we expect so like is he gonna be like amazing or is he going to somehow be worse then troy like what happened im so excited

[enderina]

Oh my god man i gotta change a few info on this blog {mostly updating a few stuff}

[imperator-titus]

Favorite Party Banter [Gale Edition]

[Astarion (Ascended)] [Halsin/Jaheira] [Gale] [Karlach] [Lae'zel] [Minsc] [Minthara] [Shadowheart] [Wyll]

I often miss party banter because of party comp (and sometimes just straight up can't hear??) so here's a collection of my favorite bants while going through dialogue files. I know the wiki has the banter (most? all?) but I added the file names and dev notes.

Either Gale is the main speaker/subject or I think his reaction is good shit.

Not in any particular order.

[PB_Laezel_Gale_ROM_Act2]

Gale: So, Lae’zel - have you ever been tempted to use psionics in your, erm, romantic endeavors? {Devnote: Curiosity winning out over awkwardness}

Lae’zel: Only once. Did you know, in low-gravity settings, githyanki can maintain aerial suspension for hours at a time? {Devnote: cheekily}

Gale: Fascinating - I think the archmage Tasha described a spell with similar effect. I really must look that up… {Devnote: latter part almost to self}

[PB_Gale_Astarion_ROM_Act3_Spawn]

Gale: If you’re feeling faint after your bout with Cazador, Astarion, I don’t mind donating some blood. {Devnote: Sincere/Genuinely trying to help}

Astarion: When you’re still full of that Netherese bile? I’ll pass, thank you.

Astarion: Besides, I have someone else to nibble on. And they are delicious.

[PB_Gale_Shadowheart_Morgue]

Gale: Look at this place. Such horrors defy descriptions…{Devnote: In very bleak/grim surroundings}

Shadowheart: Silence can be best. Give it a try sometime. {Devnote: A little cheeky, though they’re in a grim place}

[PB_Gale_Shadowheart_ROM_Act3_Selune]

Gale: I must tell you, Shadowheart, the bathing waters here leave much to be desired. {Devnote: a bit know it all}

Gale: The ablutions offered at the Temple of Beauty in Waterdeep are far superior. And they have the most excellent soaps. 

Shadowheart: Hmm. I was wondering why you always smelled like a wealthy dowager. {Devnote: teasing}

[PB_Wyll_Gale_ROM_Act2]

Gale: I’ve heard that in Baldur’s Gate, ‘wizard’ is also a term used for one who eschews their more, ahem, carnal desires. Is that true, Wyll? {Devnote: Fishing for info, a bit annoyed about what he’s heard.}

Wyll: Where are we going with this, Gale?

Gale: Oh, nowhere. I just think it a rather cruel misnomer. Not at all reflective of the glamour wizarding life affords. {Devnote: A bit sulky/sensitive about it}

[PB_Gale_Astarion_ROM_Act2]

Gale: I fear I've been rather hasty to judge you, Astarion. {Devnote: sincere/sympathetic}

Gale: One heartbreak was quite enough for me, but to experience it as many times as you have must change a person.

Astarion: Thank you, Gale. Let us both hope that broken hearts are a thing of the past.

[PB_Karlach_Gale_BlushingMermaid]

Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who?

Gale: She who thirsts buys drink the first. {Devnote: Like it's a well-known saying}

Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! {Devnote: jockeying with Gale}

Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.

[PB_Laezel_Gale_ROM_Act3_001]

Lae'zel: Gale, I've heard you talking in your sleep. Your mate needs better rest for our journey.

Gale: And deprive them of the pleasure of hearing my nocturnal postulations? I'd never be so cruel.

Gale: The mind absorbs much while we believe ourselves dormant. To lie beside Gale of Waterdeep is positively educational.

[PB_Karlach_Gale_ROM_Act1]

Gale: Karlach... a hypothetical question for you.

Gale: If someone - not me, of course - detected a hint of romantic interest in them from another, unnamed individual, what might that someone do about it?

Karlach: Whoever it is, just talk to them, Gale. And leave out the hypotheticals.

Gale: Talking. Right. I'm good at that.

[pandapetals]

Shadows of the Past

You’d been in town for exactly one year, two days, and six hours when he walked into the diner. After that, everything changed. Logan became the love of your life and the two of you bonded over trauma in the past while trying to move forward. *or basically a wolverine origins movie AU of sorts.

a/n: decided to post this fic on here all in one go so yall don't have to go to ao3. i wrote this months ago when i first joined the fandom so it may not be the best or edited well and i don't feel like reading it to make sure.

lumberjack logan howlett x fem!reader - no use of y/n, no reader description but reader does have mutant powers, x-men origins au, evenutal smut, small town, memory loss, angst, eventual romance, softie logan

word count: 27k

In the heart of a remote, small town, ancient trees towered like sentinels over the quiet streets, their canopies forming a vast, emerald roof that seemed to stretch on forever. The few who lived here either cherished the untouched beauty of the wilderness or were lumberjacks, carving out their lives one tree at a time. It was the perfect place to disappear.

That was why you chose it—after stumbling upon the town during a restless drive, searching for somewhere to lay low for the night.

People kept to themselves, though you caught the occasional whisper with your name in it. You couldn’t blame them—any newcomer in a place like this would set nerves on edge. But over time, you proved you were just like them. You took a job as a waitress at the local diner and settled into the motel down the road, quietly trying to carve out a life for yourself.

No one thought twice about you—until he showed up. You’d been in town for exactly one year, two days, and six hours when he walked into the diner. His rugged features and rough manner could have easily blended in with the locals, but something about him stood out like a dark cloud on the horizon. 

Everyone could sense something was simmering beneath the surface. He had the look of a man itching for a fight, desperate to feel anything at all. The last thing folks wanted here was trouble—and neither did you. You had run from men like him before.

He slid into one of the booths, his eyes sweeping the room with a calculating gaze. A tight white tank peeked out from beneath an unbuttoned plaid shirt, as if he wore the local uniform but with a defiant edge.

You had no choice but to face him. Being the only waitress meant there was no one else to send.

With a steadying breath, you picked up a menu and cautiously approached the booth, forcing a smile as you set it down in front of him. He didn’t glance up, didn’t even flinch. His eyes remained locked on the large window, something outside holding his attention in a vise-like grip.

“Welcome to the Rusty Spoon. What can I get you?” you asked, your voice steady but tinged with an edge of unease.

“You live here?” His eyes stayed fixed on the window as if the answer didn’t matter as much as what he was watching.

You nodded slowly, then noticed his gaze shifted. “Yeah. Who’s asking?” You tried to sound tough, but the words came out shaky, betraying your nerves.

Finally, he turned his head and looked up at you, his brown eyes intense, pinning you in place. “Someone who’s trying to—” He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze locking onto yours. For a moment, his tough exterior faltered, and something in his eyes made you pause. There was a pain there, deep and raw, and suddenly, you realized he wasn’t the man you first thought he was.

“It’s a good place to live,” you replied quickly, cutting him off before he could finish. “Folks keep to themselves, and hardly anyone passes through.” You could sense his unease, like a ripple beneath the surface, something unspoken lingering in the air between you.

He nodded, but his gaze remained locked on yours, intense and searching. You raised an eyebrow and gestured to the menu in front of him. “You gonna order, or do I have to kick you out?”

A slight chuckle escaped him. “I’ll have a coffee.”

“A man your size needs more than just coffee,” you teased, trying to lift the mood, though the tension still hung in the air. “I reckon you could use some breakfast.”

He shrugged, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Sure, whatever you think.”

You grabbed the menu from the table and made your way back to the counter, tossing it into the bin with the others. Though you felt more at ease, you couldn’t help but keep an eye on the mystery man. It wasn’t because you thought he was dangerous—there was just something about him, something different.

After placing his food and coffee down, you watched as he stared at it, lost in thought.

“Something wrong? You don’t like eggs?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shook his head slowly. “No, I mean... I like them.”

You chuckled, leaning in a bit closer. “Not a man of many words, are you?”

“Guess not.”

You hesitated for a moment, then sat across from him. “I can tell you’re running from something,” you said, your voice soft but probing. “I know the feeling. I ran, too, and this place has been my solace ever since.”

You weren’t sure why you were sharing this with him. Maybe you sensed a kindred spirit. Maybe it was simple curiosity. Or maybe, after all this time, you just needed someone to talk to. It felt strange, but also comforting, to finally meet someone new in this small, quiet town.

“I’m not running,” he finally said, picking up the fork and taking a deliberate bite of his eggs.

You sighed, leaning back slightly. “Everyone runs from something. It’s human nature. We run from our problems, our worries... maybe even from someone.”

He looked up, his brows furrowed. “Look, you seem nice, but I’m not here to chat.”

“Sorry,” you muttered, stepping back as you stood up, the brief connection slipping away as quickly as it had formed. “I’ll be over there if you need anything.” You gestured toward the counter before hurrying away.

Why had you done that? You’d let your guard down to some stranger.

Shaking off the thought, you busied yourself with work, tending to the two other customers in the diner, hoping the routine would steady your nerves.

But no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts kept drifting back to him. The way his eyes had darkened when you mentioned running, the tension in his voice when he’d brushed you off. There was something there, something he wasn’t saying.

You wiped down the counter, your movements automatic, while your mind spun with possibilities. Was he in trouble? Or was he just someone who preferred to keep his past buried? You had a feeling it was more than that, though. The pain you’d glimpsed in his eyes felt too raw, too recent.

The bell above the diner’s door jingled, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turned just in time to see him walk out, his steps rough and hurried. A pang of concern flared inside you as you rushed to the booth.

A few crumpled bills lay on the table next to a half-eaten plate. The food was cold and untouched, save for a few bites. His coffee was still steaming in its cup.

You lingered there for a moment, staring at the scene he’d left behind, a knot tightening in your chest. Had you driven him away?

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

A few days passed, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the mystery man. You hadn’t seen him around town since that morning, leading you to assume he’d left for good. Yet, despite yourself, something inside you longed to see him again.

You sighed, burying your face in your hands. The effect this man had on you was unsettling. You had never felt this way before—so drawn to someone you barely knew.

You got ready for work in a daze, your mind still tangled up in thoughts of the mystery man. His presence lingered in your mind like a half-forgotten dream, unsettling and yet impossible to shake. You barely noticed the routine of pulling on your uniform, grabbing your keys, and locking the door behind you as you headed out.

The drive into town took you down the familiar long, winding road, the early morning mist curling around the trees like ghostly fingers. Normally, you find this stretch of road calming, a moment to gather your thoughts before the day begins. But today, your mind was elsewhere—back at the diner, replaying the brief moments you’d spent with him. The intensity of his gaze, the way his voice had wavered when he spoke, the pain you’d seen lurking beneath the surface.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t see the truck in front of you until it was too late. Your car slammed into it with a sickening crunch of metal, jolting you violently against the seatbelt. The airbag deployed, the sudden impact knocking the breath out of you.

For a moment, you just sat there, dazed, your heart pounding in your chest. The smell of burnt rubber and the hiss of escaping steam filled the air. Slowly, you unbuckled your seatbelt and pushed the door open, stumbling out of the car. A few cuts and bruises marked your arms and legs, but otherwise, you were fine.

You looked up at the truck you’d rear-ended, your stomach sinking as you saw the damage. The back of the truck was dented and scraped, but what caught your attention was the man stepping out of the driver’s side.

It was him.

The mystery man turned around, and your eyes widened in shock. A large gash marred his forehead, blood trickling down the side of his face.

“Are you okay?” you blurted out, rushing over to him. Panic surged through you. “We need to get you to a hospital—”

He waved you off, his expression unreadable. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered, his voice gruff. “It’s just a scratch.”

“A scratch? You’re bleeding!” you insisted, your hands shaking. 

As he turned away, something caught your eye. The gash on his forehead—impossibly—was healing itself. You watched, stunned, as the torn skin slowly knit back together, the blood drying and vanishing as if it had never been there.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as you watched the wound disappear completely, leaving behind nothing but smooth, unblemished skin. 

“What��?” The word barely made it past your lips, disbelief washing over you like a cold wave.

He glanced back at you, catching the shock in your eyes. “I told you, I’m fine,” he said, his voice low and steady, but there was a warning in his tone now.

Your mind reeled, trying to make sense of what you’d just seen. Was it a trick of the light? Or were your eyes playing some cruel joke on you? Yet the evidence was right there in front of you—there was no denying what you had witnessed.

“You’re one of them,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “A mutant?”

He didn’t respond immediately. His intense brown eyes met yours, filled with a mix of resignation and something deeper, something you couldn’t quite place. “You need to forget what you just saw,” he said softly, his tone heavy with an unspoken warning that made your stomach twist.

“I can’t just forget—” you started, but your words died in your throat as he turned back toward you, his eyes still intense and dark.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, a weary look settling over his face. “I’m just trying to start over, bub. I don’t need folks knowing I’m a mutant.”

You stood there, your heart pounding, trying to process everything. The man in front of you—this mysterious, gruff stranger—wasn’t just anyone. He was a mutant, someone with abilities far beyond the ordinary. Someone like… you.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Is that why you asked about living here?”

He held your gaze for a long moment as if trying to decide whether to trust you with the truth. Finally, he sighed, the weight of his past heavy in his eyes. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I need a place like this… where people don’t ask too many questions. Where they just leave you alone.”

You nodded, understanding all too well the need to escape, to find a place where the past couldn’t reach you. “I get it,” you said, surprised by the steadiness in your voice.

He scoffed, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What’s a pretty woman like you gotta run from?”

You hesitated, feeling an unexpected pull toward this man—this stranger who somehow felt more familiar than he should. “Stuff,” you said softly, almost confessing everything but you held back. “Doesn’t really matter. I left it behind when I came here.”

He studied you for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if trying to see past the words, to the truth beneath them. The bitter smile faded, replaced by something more sincere, almost understanding. “We all got our demons, I guess,” he said quietly. “Places like this are good for that—keeping them buried.”

You nodded, the words striking a chord deep within you. For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the quiet morning air thick with unspoken understanding. You felt an odd sense of comfort in his presence like you weren’t as alone as you’d always believed.

“Maybe,” you ventured, breaking the silence, “we don’t have to keep them buried forever. Maybe we just need… time.”

He looked at you with a mixture of surprise and something softer, something that hinted at the man behind the guarded exterior. “Time, huh? I’ve got plenty of that. Trust me, it doesn’t change a damn thing.”

The weight of his words hit you—the exhaustion, the loneliness. It mirrored your own, a reflection of the life you’d been leading since you came to this town, hiding in plain sight. You sighed, turning to your car and rubbing your forehead. It was totaled, no doubt.

“Well, I guess I’m screwed,” you muttered, kicking the tire in frustration.

“It was my fault. I stopped because I thought I saw a squirrel in the road,” he said, stepping closer. “I can give you a lift. Where were you headed?”

You laughed, not because it was funny, but because you could see he was lying. It all felt like a stroke of bad luck. The kind that left you wondering if the universe was laughing at your expense. In the chaos, you’d completely forgotten about work—and the fact that you were now late.

“I’m supposed to be at the diner,” you replied, almost absentmindedly, as the reality of the situation began to sink in. Then you looked up at him, shaking your head. “Sorry, but there’s no way I’m getting a lift from you. You’re a stranger. I don’t even know your name.”

He nodded, his eyes softening. “Logan.”

“Logan,” you repeated, the name lingering on your tongue as if trying to find a place in your thoughts, but instead of offering your own, you simply let his name hang in the air between you.

The practical side of you quickly took over. You glanced back at your totaled car, feeling a surge of frustration and helplessness. There was no way you were getting to work on time now, and the idea of walking into town was equally unappealing.

Logan seemed to sense your hesitation. “Look,” he said, his voice softer, almost gentle. “I get it. You don’t know me, and you’ve got every reason to be cautious. But I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to help.”

You studied his face, searching for any sign of dishonesty, but all you found was a tired sincerity in his eyes. There was a part of you that still wanted to push him away, to keep the walls up. But another part of you—a part that had been growing quieter and more lonely since you’d arrived in this town—wanted to take the risk, to trust him, if only for a moment.

“Alright,” you said, your voice firm but still holding a trace of uncertainty. “Just to the diner.” 

Logan nodded, seeming to understand your need for boundaries. “Fair enough,” he replied. “I’ll take you to the diner. We can figure out what to do with your car after that.”

With a reluctant sigh, you agreed, walking around to the passenger side of his truck. The door creaked as you opened it, and you hesitated for just a second before climbing in. The seat was worn and the cab smelled faintly of oil and something earthy, like damp leaves. It was clear this truck had seen a lot of miles, just like its owner.

Logan slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, the rumble of the truck vibrating through the seat. For a few moments, the two of you rode in silence, the winding road passing by outside the window.

As you got closer to town, the reality of the situation began to settle in. You were sitting in a truck with a man who, just moments ago, had been a stranger. A man who had revealed an impossible ability—a mutant, like you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, not from fear, but from the sudden understanding that your life might be about to change in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

“You mentioned you were trying to start over,” you said, breaking the silence. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but why?”

Logan kept his eyes on the road, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, well, you are being nosy,” he replied, though he didn’t stop there. “Just seemed like a good place to disappear.”

Disappear. The word echoed in your mind, striking a chord with your reasons for coming to this town. You, too, had been searching for a place to hide, to leave the past behind.

 As the diner came into view, you found yourself hesitant to leave the safety of the truck, of Logan’s company. There was a strange comfort in knowing you weren’t the only one with secrets, that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face them alone.

He pulled into the parking lot and put the truck in park, glancing over at you. “You gonna be alright?”

You nodded, though the uncertainty still lingered. “Yeah,” you said, more to convince yourself than him. “I’ll be fine.”

But as you reached for the door handle, something stopped you. “Logan,” you said, turning to face him. “Thanks for the ride.”

He nodded, his gaze softening again. “I owed you.” 

With that, you stepped out of the truck and into the crisp morning air, the weight of the day ahead pressing down on you. But as you walked toward the diner, you couldn’t help but feel a spark of something new—hope, maybe, or the beginning of a connection you hadn’t expected.

As Logan’s truck pulled away, you realized that, for the first time in a long while, you weren’t entirely alone.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

You weren’t sure how you’d get home, especially with your car left abandoned in the middle of the road. The thought gnawed at you throughout your shift but just a few minutes before the end of it, the door jingled, and you glanced up. Logan stepped into the diner, his presence both unexpected and strangely reassuring. 

His eyes scanned the diner, searching until they found you behind the counter, wiping down a plate. You offered a small, uncertain smile, still unsure of what to make of this man who seemed to keep reappearing in your life.

He made his way to the counter, the floorboards creaking slightly under his weight. As he approached, the diner seemed to grow quieter, the hum of conversation fading into the background.

“Guessing you still need a ride?” he asked, his voice low, almost as if he didn’t want to disturb the fragile peace that had settled between you.

You hesitated, glancing down at the plate in your hands, now spotless from your nervous scrubbing. The practical side of you knew you needed help getting home, but another part of you—the part that had learned to be cautious, to avoid relying on anyone—whispered warnings in the back of your mind.

Still, there was something about Logan that made you want to take the risk.

“Yeah,” you finally replied, setting the plate aside and meeting his gaze. “I guess I do.”

Logan nodded as if he’d expected your answer. “I’ll wait outside,” he said, turning to leave before you could say anything more.

You quickly finished up your tasks, your mind racing. There was something about Logan—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on—that both intrigued and unsettled you.

You clocked out, grabbed your things, and headed outside, where Logan was leaning against his truck, hands in his pockets. The early evening air was cool, the sky tinged with the pinks and purples of a setting sun.

“Ready?” he asked as you approached, his tone casual, but his eyes still held that same unreadable depth.

“Yeah,” you replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

You climbed into the truck, the door creaking in protest. Logan started the engine, and the familiar rumble filled the cab. For a few moments, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only by the sound of tires on asphalt as he pulled out of the diner’s parking lot.

As he drove down the winding road toward your place, you stole glances at him, trying to piece together the puzzle that was Logan. There was so much you didn’t know about him, and yet, there was a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Thanks for this. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get home.”

“Least I could do,” he replied, eyes fixed on the road. 

You nodded, though he couldn’t see it. “Why’d you come back?” 

Logan glanced at you briefly before returning his attention to the road. “Figured you’d need help getting home.”

A few minutes passed in comfortable silence before your place came into view. You directed him to pull into the driveway, the truck coming to a stop with a low rumble. Neither of you made a move to get out right away.

“Thanks again, Logan,” you said, your voice softer now, almost reluctant to let go of this strange, unexpected connection.

He nodded, finally turning to meet your gaze. “It was no trouble,” he said, his tone light, though there was a flicker of something more in his eyes. You hesitated, your hand resting on the door handle, sensing he had something else to say. His lips parted slightly as if weighing the words.

“I got a job,” he said, almost as if testing how it would sound out loud.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “That’s great! I guess I’ll be seeing you in more plaid then.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “How did you know?”

You returned the smile. “Most men around here are lumberjacks. It’s the best work.”

Logan’s smile lingered for a moment before he turned his gaze back to the windshield. “Yeah, lumberjacking,” he said as if trying on the word for size. “It’s honest work. Keeps you busy.”

“Hard work, too,” you added, leaning back in your seat, feeling a mix of relief and something you couldn’t quite name. “But I guess that’s what you’re looking for.”

He nodded, the lightness in his voice giving way to something more serious. “Keeps me out of trouble,” he said, though there was an edge to his tone, a hint of the trouble he was alluding to.

We both fell silent again, the air thick with unspoken words. There was so much you wanted to ask him, to understand about this man who had somehow become a part of your life in a single day. But you held back, knowing that pushing too hard could drive him away.

Instead, you settled for something simpler. “Well, if you ever need a good meal after a long day, you know where to find me.”

He looked over at you, his expression softening. “I might just take you up on that,” he said, his voice carrying a warmth that surprised you.

You smiled, feeling a strange comfort in the idea of seeing him again. “I’ll hold you to it.”

With that, the moment passed, and you both knew it was time to part ways. You reached for the door handle again, this time more decisively. “Good luck with the job, Logan,” you said as you stepped out of the truck, the cool evening air brushing against your skin.

“Thanks,” he replied, watching you for a moment longer before turning his gaze back to the windshield. “Be more careful.”

You nodded, closing the door behind you, and watched as he pulled out of your driveway, the truck’s taillights glowing faintly in the gathering dusk. You stood there for a moment, your hands in your pockets, feeling the quiet of the evening settle around you.

As the sound of his truck faded into the distance, you couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring. There was a sense of change in the air, a feeling that your life was shifting in ways you hadn’t anticipated. But for once, it didn’t scare you. Instead, it filled you with cautious hope, the kind that made you think maybe, just maybe, you were done running.

You turned and headed toward your front door, a small smile playing on your lips. Whatever was coming, you felt ready to face it—one day at a time.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

Sunlight peeked through your curtains as you sat up in bed, stifling a yawn. The quiet of living surrounded by nothing but forest filled your ears—an almost tangible silence—until it was broken by a sudden knock at the door.

You groaned, reluctantly crawling out of bed to throw on an oversized shirt before heading to the front door. Cautiously, you peered through the peephole and saw Logan standing there, fidgeting slightly. He wore a dark blue plaid shirt, the top few buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his chest.

Your brows knitted together in confusion as you wondered what he was doing here, especially this early. Slowly, you unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Hey,” you greeted him, crossing your arms, both curious and guarded.

His eyes wandered over you, his brow lifting in question. “You’re not ready?”

“Why would I be?” you replied, confusion clouding your features as you looked up at him.

“I thought you might need a ride to work again,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes searching yours for a reaction.

“Oh, I should’ve told you yesterday—I’m off today. Sorry about that,” you said, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your voice. 

He nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “No worries. I was just passing by.”

“Shouldn’t you be chopping down trees?” you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

Logan chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “You caught me. I’m on my way now. Just thought I’d see if you needed a ride.” 

The gesture took you by surprise. It was small, but it hinted at a concern that you weren’t used to, especially from someone you’d only just met. “That’s... really nice of you,” you said, dropping your arms to your sides, your guard softening a bit more.

He shrugged, though the smile lingered. “Figure it’s the least I can do after yesterday.”

You nodded, appreciating his thoughtfulness more than you expected. “Well, I appreciate it.”

There was a brief, comfortable silence between you, the kind that felt less like an ending and more like a pause—like there was more to say, but neither of you was quite ready to say it.

“So, you gonna be okay without a car?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

You glanced back toward the driveway, where your car sat after being towed home, still banged up from the other day. “I’ll have to get it towed into town,” you said, a hint of frustration in your voice. “But I’ll manage.”

Logan nodded. “If you need help with that, just let me know. I’ve got some tools, could take a look or maybe once I make some money I could help you buy a new one.”

“Thanks,” you replied, touched by his offer. “You’ve done a lot already.”

“Alright, I’ll let you get back to your day. Don’t wanna keep you.”

You gave him a small smile, feeling an unexpected reluctance to see him go. “Good luck with the trees.”

He chuckled, the sound easing the lingering tension. “Yeah, thanks. Take care, okay?”

“You too, Logan,” you said, watching as he turned and walked back to his truck.

As he drove away, you stood there for a moment, feeling the warmth of the morning sun on your face. The encounter had left you with a strange mixture of emotions—gratitude, curiosity, and a faint sense of anticipation. Logan was becoming more than just the stranger who had helped you out. He was someone you were beginning to feel connected to, in a way that both excited and unnerved you.

With a deep breath, you turned back inside, closing the door behind you. 

You hadn’t expected to see Logan again so soon. Your day had been busy—cleaning the house, flipping through the phonebook, and using the landline to call local mechanics. The morning slipped into the evening quickly, the hours blurring together in a steady rhythm of tasks.

You had just finished making dinner, the scent of food filling the kitchen, a beer in hand, when a familiar knock echoed through the quiet, catching you off guard. Quickly, you made your way to the door, a sense of recognition washing over you—Logan. You could tell it was him even before you opened it, just from the energy he brought with him. 

“Hello again,” you greeted him with a grin, leaning casually against the doorframe. “I guess you just can’t get enough of me, huh?”

Logan chuckled, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint smile. “Maybe,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes still holding that intensity you were starting to get used to. “Or maybe I just figured I’d check in. See how you’re doing.”

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider his words. “So, you’re playing the concerned neighbor now?” you teased, though you couldn’t deny the warmth his gesture stirred within you.

“Something like that,” he said, leaning slightly against the doorframe opposite you. “Plus, I figured you might need some help with your car.”

“I wasn’t expecting a mechanic at my door, but I’m not complaining,” you said, your grin widening. “Dinner’s just about ready. If you don’t mind a little company while you wait, you’re welcome to stay.”

Logan hesitated for a moment as if weighing his options. “I wouldn’t want to impose,” he finally said, though his eyes betrayed a hint of interest.

“It’s no imposition,” you assured him. “Consider it my way of saying thanks for the ride yesterday—and for coming back today.”

He nodded, accepting your invitation with a small, grateful smile. “Alright then,” he said. “I could use a good meal.”

You stepped aside, letting him in. As he walked past you into the warm, cozy kitchen, you noticed the subtle tension in his posture ease slightly, as if the atmosphere of your home provided a welcome change from whatever he was used to.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you said, gesturing toward the small dining table. “I’ll grab you a plate.”

Logan took a seat, glancing around the kitchen as if taking in the details. “Smells good,” he remarked, his voice softer now, less guarded.

“Thanks,” you replied, setting a plate in front of him before sitting down across from him. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’ll fill you up.”

He nodded, picking up his fork and taking a bite. For a few moments, the two of you ate in comfortable silence, the quiet punctuated only by the clinking of silverware. There was something oddly intimate about the moment—sharing a meal, the easy quiet between you. It felt natural like this wasn’t the first time you’d sat across from each other at the table.

After a while, Logan looked up, his eyes meeting yours. “You didn’t have to invite me in, you know.”

You shrugged, offering a warm smile. “I know, but I wanted to.” You paused, setting your fork down. “Besides, you’re not as scary as you try to be.”

“Guess you’ve got me all figured out,” Logan replied, a playful glint in his eyes.

You watched him for a moment, the smile tugging at your lips growing a little wider. “Maybe,” you said with a teasing lilt. “Anyway, how was your first day? Chopping trees and all?”

Logan leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he considered your question. “It was… different,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But it’s honest work. That counts for something, I suppose—more than what I used to do.”

There it was—a crack in his carefully constructed walls. A small, revealing glimpse into Logan’s past. But was it an invitation to know more or just a slip-up?

“I don’t know why I said that,” he admitted, shaking his head slightly as if trying to make sense of it himself. “Something about you… makes me want to spill my guts.”

You chuckled nervously, your lips pursed as you tried to process his unexpected admission. Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly, picking up on the shift in your demeanor as your gaze flickered away from his. “I have a way of soothing people—calming them down,” you offered, trying to deflect the tension.

His eyes studied you intently, a new spark of interest igniting. “You’re like me, aren’t you?” he asked quietly. “A mutant?”

You nodded, a wave of guilt washing over you. It felt like you’d been hiding something from Logan, even though he hadn’t asked directly. “Figures. I moved here to get away from being called a mutant, only to have one find me,” you said, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

“I ran because I didn’t fit in,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “My parents… they didn’t understand. They wanted to fix me, cure this disease as they called it. So, I turned to people I thought did understand—other mutants. Except they didn’t just want to live in peace. They wanted to rebel. If humans didn’t understand us, then we’d make them.”

Logan’s expression hardened as you continued your story. “I thought I was making a positive change in the world. Who cared if people got hurt in the process, as long as we got what we wanted… power but I realized too late that wasn’t what I wanted to fight for. By then, I’d already created enemies, and killed innocent people—”

You trailed off, feeling your emotions spiral out of control, the weight of your past pressing down on you. Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady yourself, pushing the memories back down. “Anyway,” you continued, “I ran. I ran for a long time until I found this place and decided to call it home.”

Logan shifted slightly in his chair, his hand instinctively reaching across the table, but you shook your head, stopping him. “I make you feel calm because that’s my gift,” you explained, your voice steady but laced with caution. “I do it without even realizing it. I can intensify any emotion, and if I were to touch you… I’d feel your strongest emotion and amplify it. The same goes for memories. I can change the emotions you felt, manipulate them.”

Logan’s hand froze mid-reach, his expression hardening as he processed what you’d just said. His eyes, which had been soft with concern moments ago, now held a flicker of something else—wary curiosity, maybe even fear.

“You can change memories?” he asked, his voice low, almost as if he was testing the words on his tongue.

You nodded slowly, your heart heavy with the truth you’d just revealed. “It’s not something I do lightly,” you said, trying to ease the tension you felt building between you. “I’ve learned to control it, to keep my distance when I need to but the ability is always there, under the surface.”

Logan’s gaze bore into you, searching for something—reassurance, perhaps, or maybe the boundaries of your power. “So, if you wanted to… you could make me feel something that never happened?”

“Or change how you feel about something that did,” you admitted, feeling a pang of guilt at how vulnerable that made him. “But I wouldn’t. Not without reason. It’s not who I want to be.”

He leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable, a long silence stretching between you. It was the kind of silence that felt like a crossroads—where trust could either be built or shattered.

Finally, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “That’s a lot of power to carry around,” he said, his tone softer now, less guarded.

“It is,” you agreed, relief washing over you as you saw the tension in him ease. “It’s why I’ve been so careful. Why I ran. I didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”

Logan nodded, his gaze softening again as he looked at you, understanding beginning to replace the earlier wariness. “It sounds like you’ve been carrying this burden for a long time.”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “Too long.”

There was another pause, this one less tense, more contemplative. Logan seemed to be weighing something in his mind, his eyes studying you with a depth that made your heart race.

“I guess we’ve both got our share of secrets,” he finally said, his tone almost resigned, as if accepting the complexity of what lay between you.

You offered him a small, tentative smile. “It’s not easy to trust, but I can sense you understand better than anyone.”

He nodded a flicker of hesitation in his gaze. “Yeah. I guess this is the part where I tell you why I’m here?”

“Only if you want to,” you replied, giving him a small shrug. “We don’t have to swap war stories just because I told you mine.”

Logan leaned back in his chair, his gaze dropping to the table as if he were searching for the right words. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the internal struggle of whether to share what he’d kept hidden for so long. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he began to speak, his voice low and gravelly.

“My brother and I… we’ve been fighting our whole lives,” he started, his tone resigned but tinged with a weariness that spoke of years of battles, both literal and figurative. “We’ve fought in every major war you’ve heard of, and plenty you haven’t. We’re old—older than you’d believe. Back then, it felt like fighting was all we knew, all we were good at.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the room. You didn’t press him, sensing that this was as difficult for him as your story had been for you.

“After the Vietnam War ended, things changed,” he continued, his voice taking on a darker edge. “We were approached by a group—a mutant group called Team X. They promised us purpose, a place where we could belong. We were soldiers, after all, and that’s what we did best. My brother, Victor, was all in from the start. He always had a taste for violence, even when it wasn’t necessary. He thrived in that environment.”

Logan’s expression tightened, a flicker of pain crossing his features as he spoke about his brother. “But me… I started to see things differently. Team X wasn’t just about fighting battles—they were about control, about power at any cost. And Victor… he embraced that. Started killing people just because he could, because it made him feel strong. Innocent people. I couldn’t be a part of that.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and resolve. “So I walked away. Left the team, and left my brother. Tried to find some kind of peace, if that’s even possible for someone like me. But Victor… he didn’t stop. He kept going, kept killing, and I’ve been running from it ever since.”

You watched him in silence, the weight of his confession heavy between you. It was clear that Logan carried the scars of his past deeply, that his brother’s betrayal had cut him in ways that were hard to put into words.

“I guess that’s why I’m here,” he said, his voice softening. “Looking for a place to hide, to forget. But it’s not so easy, is it? No matter how far you run, the past has a way of catching up.”

You nodded, understanding all too well the truth in his words. “No, it’s not easy,” you agreed quietly. “But it sounds like you made the right choice. Walking away, even when it cost you everything.”

Logan looked at you, the corners of his mouth twitching into something that might have been a smile, though it was more sadness than anything else. “Maybe…but it doesn’t change what happened. Doesn’t change who I am.”

“I guess that makes two of us,” you replied, your voice soft but steady.

There was a long pause as the two of you sat there, letting the weight of what had been shared settle between you. It was a strange feeling, this mutual vulnerability. You had each opened up parts of yourselves that were usually kept hidden, and in doing so, had created a bond—fragile, but undeniably real.

The two of you sat there for a moment longer, letting the words linger in the air, before Logan finally stood up, pushing his chair back with a gentle scrape. “I should probably get going,” he said, though his voice was reluctant.

You nodded, standing up as well. “Yeah, big day tomorrow,” you said, offering him a genuine smile. “And thanks for stopping by. Don’t worry about fixing my car—I know you were lying about stopping to save the squirrel.”

Logan chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Yeah, you caught me,” he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes. “I figured the squirrel excuse was better than admitting you were the one who rear-ended me.” 

You shook your head, amused by his honesty. You felt a warmth spread through you as he headed for the door but before he opened it, he paused, glancing back at you. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him, your tone light but sincere.

Logan nodded, his gaze holding yours for a moment longer as if he was weighing whether or not to say something else. But instead, he simply gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Alright then. I’ll see you in the morning unless your car magically fixes itself.”

“Okay.” you smiled, watching as he finally turned the knob and stepped out into the cool night air.

You stood by the door for a moment after he left, listening to the fading sound of his truck as it rumbled down the driveway and disappeared into the distance. The house felt quiet and still, but it wasn’t the kind of silence that made you uneasy. Instead, it felt like the calm after a storm—a moment of peace after the intensity of what had been shared.

As you turned away from the door and began to tidy up the kitchen, you couldn’t help but reflect on how much had changed in such a short amount of time. Logan’s unexpected presence in your life had stirred up feelings and memories you’d long tried to bury, but it had also given you something else—hope. Hope that you weren’t as alone as you’d always believed and that maybe, just maybe, there was a way to find peace with your past.

You sighed, leaning against the counter as you thought back to the conversation you’d had. The way Logan had opened up to you about his brother, about the wars and the pain he carried—it resonated with you in a way that few things ever had. There was a part of you that wanted to help him carry that burden, to share in the weight of it, just as he’d seemed willing to do with yours.

But you knew it wouldn’t be easy. Trust was a fragile thing, easily broken and difficult to rebuild. Yet, as you stood there in the quiet of your kitchen, you found yourself more willing to take that risk than you’d ever been before.

With a final glance at the door, you turned off the lights and headed to bed, feeling a strange mixture of exhaustion and anticipation. Tomorrow was a new day, and while you didn’t know exactly what it would bring, you felt more prepared to face it.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

A month had passed, and your whole life had changed. Logan showed up every morning to pick you up and drop you off at work. With him around, fixing your car seemed unnecessary. On your days off, he’d come over after his work, and the two of you would share dinner.

You began to forget what life was like before he showed up. The days without him seemed distant, almost unreal as if they belonged to someone else’s story. Logan had become woven into the fabric of your everyday life, making the idea of going back to how things were feel impossible.

It wasn’t just the routines that had changed—it was everything. The quiet of your home no longer felt lonely, the days were filled with a sense of purpose, and the nights were shared with someone who understood the weight of your past. Logan wasn’t just a part of your life now; he was the anchor that kept you grounded.

The walls you’d once kept around your heart were slowly crumbling, and with each day that passed, you found yourself opening up to Logan more and more. He, in turn, shared pieces of his life with you—stories about his past, his experiences, and even his fears. The trust between you grew, a steady bond that neither of you took for granted.

One evening, after another quiet dinner, the two of you found yourselves lingering at the table, the conversation winding down but neither of you wanted to move. The night outside was still, the only sound was the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Logan broke the silence first. “You know,” he began, his voice soft, almost contemplative, “I never thought I’d find something like this.”

“Like what?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

He looked at you, his expression serious yet warm. “This… peace. After everything I’ve been through, I didn’t think it was possible but you… you make it feel real like I can have a life without being a monster.”

“Logan. You aren’t a monster.” You said reaching across the table to gently take his hand. “We did what we thought was best and sometimes our best is all we can do.” 

Logan nodded, softly rubbing his thumb against your skin in a comforting manner. You sighed, leaning closer to him wishing moments like this never had to end. “You know, I didn’t think it was possible either,” you admitted, your voice just as soft. “ To have a life without chaos but somehow, here we are.”

He smiled a genuine, heartfelt expression that made your chest tighten in the best possible way. “Yeah,” he said, his tone almost reverent. “Here we are.”

The moment hung between you, charged with an unspoken energy. Your gaze drifted to Logan’s lips, slightly parted, as his eyes darkened. “We shouldn’t,” you murmured, though your voice wavered. Despite your words, you found yourself leaning closer, your arm brushing against his.

Every instinct screamed at you to leap out of your chair, to break the tension by jumping into his lap in a sudden burst of energy, but you stayed planted, caught between desire and restraint. 

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver, his eyes still locked on yours. The air between you seemed to thrum with the tension of what wasn’t being said, the words tangled up with everything you both wanted but were too afraid to reach for. His arm brushed against yours again, the contact sending a jolt of warmth through you, grounding you in the moment.

“I know we shouldn’t,” Logan finally whispered, his voice rough and low, as if he were struggling with the same emotions that were swirling inside you. “But it’s hard… being this close and pretending there’s nothing there.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, but your pulse was racing, and it was getting harder to remember why you had even said those words in the first place. “Logan…”

He shifted closer, the movement slow, deliberate. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, though his tone suggested he wasn’t entirely sure he could. “Tell me, and I will.”

But you didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Instead, you found yourself leaning in, the pull between you undeniable, your lips almost brushing his. 

And then, before either of you could change your mind, the distance disappeared.

His lips met yours with a quiet intensity that made your heart skip a beat. The world around you seemed to blur, narrowing down to the sensation of his mouth on yours, the warmth of his touch as his hand found its way to the small of your back, drawing you closer.

For a moment, everything else fell away—the doubts, the fears, the reasons you’d given yourself to keep your distance. All that mattered was this, the connection you’d been dancing around for weeks now, finally igniting.

You felt yourself relax into the kiss, your hand moving up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. It was real, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe this was okay—that maybe, in Logan’s arms, you could find something good, something that wouldn’t be taken away by the past.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, you found Logan’s gaze on you, his eyes still dark but now filled with something softer—something that spoke of promises and a future that, for the first time, didn’t feel quite so uncertain.

“We should take this slow,” you managed to say, your voice a whisper, still trying to catch your breath.

Logan nodded, a small, understanding smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah,” he agreed, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “Slow is good. We’ve got time.”

You nodded too, feeling a sense of relief mixed with excitement. “Time,” you echoed, letting the word settle between you, a reminder that there was no need to rush—no need to force what was already building naturally between you.

Logan held his forehead against yours, his breath warm and steady, mingling with your own. For a long moment, neither of you moved, content to stay in that stillness, where words weren’t needed. It felt like the world outside had faded away, leaving just the two of you and the quiet connection you shared.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be fully present in the moment. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, the strength in his arms as they wrapped around you, and the calm that settled over you as you breathed in his scent—earthy, familiar, grounding.

“I’ve been alone for so long,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that you felt more than heard. “I never thought… I never thought I’d find something like this. Like you.”

His words sent a warm flutter through your chest, a sensation that you weren’t entirely used to but were starting to crave. You opened your eyes, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. The vulnerability you saw there mirrored your own, and it made you want to hold on to him even tighter.

“You’re not alone anymore,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you.

Logan’s eyes softened, and he nodded slightly as if acknowledging a truth that had taken him a long time to accept. “I know,” he said quietly, his hand moving up to gently cup the side of your face.

You leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm against your cheek, the comfort of his presence. It was a simple gesture, but it carried the weight of everything you both had been through—your pasts, your fears, your hopes for what might come next.

Eventually, Logan pulled back slightly, his hand still lingering on your cheek. “I should probably go,” he said, though there was a hint of reluctance in his voice.

You sighed, a wave of sadness washing over you. “Why don’t you stay? Please stay.”

He chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow. “What happened to taking it slow?”

“I’m not asking you to move in,” you replied with a small smile. “I bet you would get a better night's sleep here than at your place.”

Logan’s gaze softened, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. “I can’t. If I stay… I don’t think I can control myself.”

You held his gaze, your heart fluttering at the intensity in his eyes. “I trust you, Logan,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. “But I understand.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, his eyes searching yours as if weighing his options. The air between you felt thick with unspoken words, with the tension of wanting something you both knew you needed to be careful with.

Finally, he sighed, a mix of frustration and restraint in his breath. “It’s not about trust,” he murmured, his voice rough. “It’s about wanting you too much, too soon.”

You nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment but also a sense of respect for his honesty. “Oh,” you whispered, not pushing any further. “Goodnight, Logan.”

His gaze softened further, and with a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning in. His lips pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, a silent promise of patience and understanding.

“Goodnight,” he whispered back, his voice barely above a breath, before he finally stepped back, his hand trailing down your arm as he moved toward the door.

As he opened it, the cool night air rushed in stark contrast to the warmth that had filled the room moments before. You watched as he paused in the doorway, glancing back at you one last time, a small, almost reluctant smile on his lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, a promise in his tone.

“I’ll be here,” you replied, your voice steady, though your heart ached just a little as you watched him leave.

When the door closed behind him, the room felt emptier, the silence heavier. However, as you climbed into bed, pulling the covers up around you, you let yourself drift off to sleep with a smile on your face, the memory of Logan’s touch lingering on your skin like a promise.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of Logan’s truck pulling into the driveway. A familiar warmth spread through you at the thought of seeing him again. You dressed quickly, eager to be near him.

When you opened the door, Logan was already standing there, leaning against the side of his truck with his hands in his pockets. As you approached, he looked up, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Morning,” he greeted you, his voice warm but carrying a hint of something more—something that lingered from the night before.

“Morning,” you replied, matching his smile. Without hesitation, he pushed himself off the truck and pulled you into an embrace, pressing a soft kiss to your head.

“Why don’t you drive me to work and then use my truck to do whatever you want,” Logan suggested, his eyes meeting yours as you looked up at him.

You chuckled, the idea warming you. “Not much to do around here, but I’ll take you up on that offer.”

The drive was longer than you expected, but it gave you time to talk. Logan kept one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting comfortably on your thigh, his focus mostly on the road ahead. Now and then, he’d glance over at you, a small smile tugging at his lips, as if he couldn’t help but be reassured by your presence.

When you arrived at the lumberyard, Logan parked the truck and turned to face you. “I left some money in the glovebox for you.”

“Gee, maybe I can find something nice to buy,” you teased, leaning toward him with a playful grin.

Logan smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned in closer, closing the small distance between you. “Just don’t spend it all in one place,” he quipped, his voice low and teasing.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face gave away your amusement. “I’ll try to restrain myself,” you replied, the playful banter making the moment feel light and easy.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the proximity sparking a quiet tension between you. His gaze flickered down to your lips, and you could feel your heart start to race.

Logan hesitated, then pulled back slightly, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “I should get going,” he said, his voice still warm but now edged with the responsibility of the day ahead. “Don’t want to be late.”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep from asking him to stay. Logan reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your cheek, a tender touch that sent a shiver down your spine before he pulled away entirely. With one last lingering look, he opened the door and stepped out of the truck.

You cursed under your breath, sliding over to the driver's side and jumping out. “Logan,” you called, your voice urgent. He stopped in his tracks, turning around just as you reached him. Before he could say a word, you grabbed him by the neck, pulling him toward you, your lips crashing against his.

Logan stiffened for a brief moment, caught off guard by the suddenness of your kiss, but then he melted into it, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. The world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you standing there in the cool morning air, locked in a kiss that spoke of all the unspoken emotions that had been simmering between you.

His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that contrasted with the urgency of the moment as if he was trying to savor every second. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the steady beat of his heart as it pressed against your chest, and the way his hands tightened slightly on your waist, grounding you in the reality of what was happening.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Logan’s eyes searched yours, a mix of surprise, desire, and something deeper that neither of you had put into words yet. His forehead rested against yours as both of you tried to catch your breath.

“What was that for?” he asked, his voice a low rumble, though the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

You smiled, your breath coming in soft gasps. “Just… couldn’t let you walk away without doing that.”

His smile widened, and he leaned in, pressing another brief, tender kiss to your lips, this one softer, less urgent but no less meaningful. “I’m not complaining,” he murmured, his voice warm with affection.

“Have a good day,” you replied, your voice steady.

Logan nodded, his hand coming up to gently cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I will thanks to you.” 

Logan glanced at the lumberyard behind him, a reminder of the day ahead. “I do have to go,” he said, regret lacing his words.

You nodded, stepping back to give him space. “I know. I’ll see you later.”

He hesitated for a second, then gave you a final, lingering look before turning and walking away, his strides confident but with an underlying reluctance, as if leaving you was the last thing he wanted to do.

As you climbed back into the truck, the taste of his lips still lingering on yours, a smile tugged at your lips. You turned your attention to the glovebox, opening it to find a small stack of bills. He didn’t have to leave you money, but it was a thoughtful gesture—one that showed just how much he cared.

Starting the truck, you pulled out of the parking lot, feeling a sense of peace as the early morning light cast a warm glow over the landscape. There wasn’t much to do in town, but the idea of having a little time to yourself—and the freedom of Logan’s truck at your disposal—felt like a small adventure in itself.

As you drove, your thoughts drifted to how much had changed in such a short time. Logan had become an integral part of your life, his presence comforting and constant. The days of feeling isolated and alone were fading into the background, replaced by the warmth of connection and the promise of something more.

By the time you reached the small town center, you had a few ideas on how to spend your morning. You parked the truck and stepped out, breathing in the crisp air as you glanced around. The shops were just beginning to open, and you decided to take a stroll down the main street.

You wandered past the general store, the hardware shop, and the small café that was starting to fill with its usual morning crowd. Something was charming about the simplicity of it all, something that put you at ease.

The day passed quickly, the hours slipping by as you wandered through the town, enjoying the simple pleasure of a day to yourself. As the afternoon sun began to dip lower in the sky, you found yourself thinking about Logan and the quiet, comforting moments you’d shared that morning. A thought crossed your mind, and a small smile spread across your face.

With the money Logan had left in the glovebox, you decided to treat him to something special—a nice dinner for the two of you. It wasn’t much, but it was a way to show your appreciation for everything he’d done, for the way he’d been there for you, even in such a short time.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

After getting back home, you started on dinner while Logan went to take a shower. You thought you had more time, but soon enough, Logan stepped into the kitchen, looking pleasantly surprised to find you bustling around. “What’s all this?” he asked, his voice filled with curiosity and warmth.

You turned to face him, noticing his hair still slightly damp. “I decided to use the money you left me to treat us to a nice dinner. I hope you’re hungry.”

A grin spread across Logan’s face as he walked over to you, his eyes filled with appreciation. “This smells amazing,” he said, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I wanted to,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you at his touch. “It’s my way of saying thank you—for everything.”

Logan’s gaze softened, and he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m the one who should be thanking you,” he said quietly. “But let’s call it even.”

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with the clinking of dishes as you finished setting the table. “Deal. Now, sit down.” You teased, gesturing toward the chair. 

As the two of you sat down to dinner, the evening unfolded in a series of easy, comfortable moments—laughter, conversation, and the simple pleasure of sharing a meal with someone you cared about. The connection between you felt even stronger, the bond deepening with each shared word, and each exchanged a glance.

By the time the meal was finished, the night felt like a warm, enveloping blanket, wrapping the two of you in its embrace. Logan reached across the table, taking your hand in his, and you could feel the strength and tenderness in his grip.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice soft but filled with meaning. “For this. For everything.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection as you pressed your lips gently to his hand. “I want you to stay tonight,” you whispered, the words carrying both vulnerability and hope.

Logan’s eyes softened as he gazed at you, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at you as if trying to memorize every detail of your face. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, full of quiet sincerity.

“I want that too,” he admitted, his words heavy with the weight of the decision. “More than you know.”

Relief washed over you, mingling with the warmth that had been building between you all evening. The simple act of asking him to stay had felt monumental, and now, with his answer, it felt like something had clicked into place—something that had been hovering just out of reach, now within your grasp.

Logan stood up slowly, his hand still holding yours as he walked around the table to stand beside you. He helped you to your feet, and for a moment, you just stood there, facing each other in the soft glow of the kitchen lights. The world outside felt distant, and irrelevant, as if the only thing that mattered was the two of you, here and now.

Without another word, Logan pulled you into his arms, holding you close. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your chest and could sense the calm that had settled over him. You knew this was a big step for both of you, but it felt right—like it was the natural progression of everything that had been building between you.

His hand moved to cup your face, tilting it up so he could look into your eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as if giving you one last chance to change your mind.

You nodded, your lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “I’m sure, Logan. I want this.”

His eyes darkened slightly, with something deeper, more intense. Then, without another word, he leaned in and kissed you—softly at first, then with more urgency as the reality of the moment sank in. The kiss was full of unspoken promises, trust and desire, and everything that had been simmering between you.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, you didn’t need to say anything. The decision had already been made.

“I’ll clean this up later,” Logan said softly, his voice low and filled with warmth. “But right now, I just need you, sweetheart.”

He took your hand, leading you out of the kitchen and down the hallway to your bedroom. The night outside was dark, the world quiet, as the two of you stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind you.

The space felt different now—more intimate, more charged with the energy of what was about to happen. You stood together in the dim light, your hands still intertwined, and for a moment, you just looked at each other, letting the anticipation build.

Then Logan moved closer, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you against him. His touch was gentle, but there was an undercurrent of desire that made your pulse quicken. Slowly, he began to lift your shirt over your head, his movements careful and deliberate, as if savoring every moment.

“I’ll go slow unless you tell me otherwise,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

You smiled against his lips as your fingers worked to remove his shirt. He slipped it over his head, then cupped your face with both hands, his touch tender yet filled with intent.

“Just touch me, Logan,” you whispered, your voice carrying a mixture of need and trust. You had wanted this moment for a while, imagining how Logan’s hands would feel on you, how he would make you feel. After that kiss earlier, you knew there was no reason to hold back. Why take things slow when everything about this felt so right?

Logan’s gaze darkened with desire at your words, and he let out a quiet breath as if releasing the last of his restraint. “You’re so beautiful,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. His hands moved over your skin with a mix of reverence and urgency, as if savoring each touch but also needing more, needing all of you.

His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as he explored your body, his fingers tracing the contours of your skin as though committing them to memory.

Logan’s lips found yours again, the kiss deep and unrestrained, reflecting the intensity of everything that had been building between you. His hands roamed over you with more confidence now, as if your words had unlocked something inside him, permitting him to show you just how much he wanted you.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart?” Logan murmured, his voice thick with desire as his lips trailed hot kisses down your neck, each one igniting a deeper longing within you.

In response, you pushed him back toward the bed, a determined glint in your eyes. Logan allowed himself to be guided, his breath hitching as you climbed on top of him, your hands pressing against his chest to steady yourself.

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice steady and filled with intent. “I want all of you.”

Logan’s eyes darkened with a mix of surprise and pleasure, his hands instinctively gripping your hips, pulling you closer as he settled beneath you. The roles had shifted, and you reveled in the feeling of taking control, of showing him just how much you wanted this—wanted him.

“Then take it,” Logan rasped, his voice rough with desire as he met your gaze. “I’m yours.”

His breath came in ragged gasps as your hands traveled down his chest, stopping at the waistband of his sweats. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the hardness beneath you driving your own need to a fever pitch. The anticipation sent a shiver down your spine, and you clenched around nothing, the ache for him growing more intense with every passing second.

Logan’s hands tightened on your hips, his eyes darkening as he watched you, his control slipping as your fingers toyed with the edge of his sweatpants.

“Don’t stop,” Logan whispered, his voice hoarse, filled with both a plea and a command. His vulnerability in that moment, paired with the raw power he exuded, only made you want him more.

With a steadying breath, you slipped your fingers beneath the waistband, slowly easing his sweats down, revealing the full extent of his arousal. Logan groaned, his head tipping back against the pillow, the sound sending a rush of heat through you.

Your hands shook slightly, not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of what was happening. You’d both been building to this moment for so long and now that it was here, it felt almost surreal, too powerful.

You gently wrapped your hand around his cock, stroking it slowly, deliberately, just enough to tease him. The feeling of him in your hand, hard and heavy, sent a jolt of desire straight through you, making your breath hitch.

Logan’s reaction was immediate. His hands slid up your thighs, his touch firm but reverent until they gripped your hips with a need that matched your own. His fingers dug into your skin, holding you in place as his hips bucked slightly into your hand, a low growl escaping his lips.

“Fuck,” Logan breathed out, his voice thick with pleasure and restraint. His eyes, half-lidded with desire, locked onto yours, a silent plea and command mixed. “Don’t tease me.”

But the teasing was half the fun, the control you had over him intoxicating. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “I want to make you feel good.”

His grip on your hips tightened, and you could feel the tension in his body, coiled and ready to spring. But for now, you relished the control you had over him, the way you could make him unravel with just a touch.

But the need building within you was undeniable, and as much as you enjoyed teasing him, you wanted more. You wanted to feel him, to have him inside you, to bridge the gap that had been between you for far too long.

“Logan…” you murmured, your voice a mix of desire and pleading. “I need you.”

His response was immediate and primal, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he shifted beneath you, flipping you onto your back with a swiftness that took your breath away. He settled between your legs, his hands framing your face, his eyes burning with intent before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Then take me,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours as he positioned himself at your entrance. “All of me.”

His hands then worked to pull down your panties revealing your needy cunt and with one fluid motion, he pushed into you, filling you completely, the connection between you snapping into place as if it had been meant to be all along. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve in your body alive with the intensity of it.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer as you both moved together, the rhythm natural and instinctive. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, the pressure building inside you with a fierce intensity, mirrored in the way Logan’s grip tightened on your hips.

“Logan,” you gasped, your nails digging into his back as waves of pleasure surged through you. “Don’t stop,” you cried, your body trembling as you clenched around him, desperate for more.

Logan’s breath hitched, and you could feel him shudder above you, every muscle in his body tense as he fought to hold back. His voice was a low growl, rough with desire and restraint. “Don’t cum for me yet, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “I want to taste you.”

The promise in his words sent a jolt of anticipation through you, and your breath caught in your throat as you nodded, trusting him completely. Logan’s pace slowed, his movements deliberate as he pulled out of you, leaving you aching and yearning for his touch.

He kissed his way down your body, his lips trailing over your skin, each touch igniting a new wave of heat inside you. By the time he reached the apex of your thighs, you were trembling with need, your body taut with anticipation.

Logan glanced up at you, his eyes dark and hungry, as if savoring the sight of you laid out before him. He pressed a lingering kiss to your inner thigh, his hands gripping your hips to hold you steady. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire.

And then he was there, his mouth on you, his tongue tracing slow, tantalizing circles that made your whole body arch off the bed. The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure so intense that you could barely think, could barely breathe. You clutched at the sheets, your moans filling the room as Logan devoured you, his touch both gentle and insistent, driving you closer to the edge with every flick of his tongue.

He was relentless, his mouth working you with a skill that left you shaking, your entire being focused on the pleasure he was giving you. The tension inside you coiled tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable.

“Logan,” you gasped, your voice trembling. “I—I can’t…” Your thighs pressed against the sides of his head. He moaned into you as if he wanted to be suffocated by you. 

Logan didn’t stop. Instead, he redoubled his efforts, his tongue moving faster, his hands tightening on your hips as he held you in place. “Let go for me,” he murmured against you, his voice sending vibrations through your core. “I want to taste you.”

His words were your undoing. With a cry, you came undone, your release crashing over you in a wave that left you breathless, your body shaking uncontrollably as you found your peak. Logan didn’t let up, drawing out your orgasm until you were left gasping, your entire body trembling in the aftermath.

Only then did he pull back, kissing his way up your body until he was hovering over you again, his lips capturing yours in a deep, passionate kiss that tasted of you. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve thought about this for so long.”

You smiled against his lips, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer. “Me too,” you murmured, still breathless, your heart full of everything you felt for him.

Logan kissed you again, his hands roaming over your body with a renewed sense of urgency. He shifted, lifting your legs higher and positioning himself between your thighs, his cock teasing your entrance.

“Logan…” you whispered, your voice a mix of longing and need, your hips instinctively arching toward him.

His eyes met yours, dark and intense, as he paused, savoring the moment. “I need to feel you cum with me inside you,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire. 

Slowly, he began to press into you, the sensation making you gasp as he stretched you. Logan’s gaze never left yours as he pushed deeper, his movements slow and deliberate, ensuring you felt every moment of it.

Your breath hitched, a soft moan escaping your lips as he bottomed out inside you, the sensation overwhelming in the best possible way. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back, giving you a moment to adjust, to fully take him in.

“God, you’re perfect,” Logan groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he began to move, setting a rhythm that was both slow and powerful, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. The feeling of him moving within you was intoxicating, every nerve in your body lighting up with pleasure. “Your little cunt just begging for more.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, urging him on as the need inside you built to an unbearable level. Each stroke pushed you higher, the pleasure coiling tighter within you, ready to snap.

“Faster,” you whispered, your voice breathless, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him. “Please, Logan…”

Logan’s restraint shattered at your plea, his pace quickening as he drove into you with a newfound urgency, his grip on your hips tightening. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your gasps and his low, rough moans, creating a symphony of pure, unbridled passion.

The pleasure was overwhelming, each thrust sending you spiraling closer to your release. You could feel Logan’s control slipping, the tension in his body mirroring your own as he neared his climax.

“Come with me,” he rasped, his voice thick with need. “I want to feel you cum around me.”

His words sent you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a force that left you trembling beneath him. You cried out his name, your body tightening around him as the waves of pleasure pulsed through you.

Logan followed you into oblivion, his release tearing through him as he buried himself deep inside you, his body shuddering as he let go. He groaned your name, his voice filled with raw emotion as he spilled into you, the intensity of it leaving him breathless.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both of you lost in the aftershocks of what you’d just shared. Your hearts pounded in sync, your breaths mingling as you held each other close, the connection between you stronger than ever.

Finally, Logan lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with a softness that took your breath away. He brushed his thumb across your cheek, his touch gentle and reverent.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and affection.

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for the man above you. “I love you too,” you replied, your voice soft but heavy with the weight of everything you felt for him.

Logan’s eyes shone with emotion as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, his warmth enveloping you as he held you. The rhythm of his heartbeat under your ear, steady and strong, lulled you into a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long time.

As you drifted off to sleep in his embrace, you knew that this was where you were meant to be—with him, surrounded by a love that felt real.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

“Logan?” you mumbled, turning over. Your hands fumbled around the bed, searching for Logan, but all you found was the lingering warmth he had left behind.

You sat up, sleepiness still clouding your eyes as you looked around the room, the eerie silence ringing in your ears. Slowly, you got out of bed and walked out of the bedroom, the soft glow of moonlight guiding you through the darkened hallway.

You knew Logan’s nightmares were bad. In the first few nights, he stayed over, he tried to hide them, keeping quiet and distant. Eventually, the truth became impossible to ignore. He would thrash under the covers, his body tense and restless, causing you to wake up and find him drenched in a cold sweat, haunted by whatever horrors his mind had conjured.

He was stubborn, refusing your help, convinced that he deserved the painful nightmares as a way to remind himself of who he was. No matter how many times you tried to reassure him, to tell him that he didn’t have to bear the weight of his past alone, Logan was resolute. He believed the nightmares were a punishment, a way to keep himself anchored to the man he once was, no matter how much pain they caused him. He would insist that they were his burden to bear, and he wouldn’t let you share in it, no matter how much you wanted to help.

It was frustrating, seeing him like this—tortured, stubborn, and determined to carry the weight of his guilt alone. Every night, you’d lie awake, listening to his breathing grow heavier, waiting for the moment when his dreams would turn into something darker, something that would tear him from sleep and leave him gasping for air.

He tried to put on a brave face during the day, but you could see the exhaustion etched into his features, the haunted look in his eyes that never fully went away. And yet, he wouldn’t let you in. He wouldn’t let you take any of the burden from his shoulders, even though it was clear that it was tearing him apart.

It never got easier to watch, especially now as you fumbled your way through the dark, desperate to find him. Your heart pounded in your chest, thoughts swirling as you entered the living room, hoping against hope that he’d be there.

It was empty.

“Logan?” you whispered, your voice trembling in the stillness, even though you knew deep down he wasn’t there.

Slowly, your feet padded against the wood floor toward the front door, which was slightly ajar. Your heart raced as it creaked open, the moonlight peeking through and casting eerie shadows on your face. For a split second, your heart stopped as you saw a figure standing outside, silhouetted against the night, gazing up at the sky.

However, you quickly realized it was Logan. His eyes were closed, his face peaceful as the cool breeze swirled around him. He was barefoot, wearing only sweats, as the moonlight bathed him in a soft, ethereal glow.

He turned toward you, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Come here,” he said, his voice gentle, inviting.

You stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you walked toward Logan. He opened his eyes, his smile fading slightly as you approached.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly, searching his face for any sign of what might be troubling him. “Was it the nightmares again?”

Logan nodded, his expression shifting from peaceful to guarded, the familiar shadows returning to his eyes. “Yeah,” he murmured, almost as if admitting it aloud made it worse. “They’re always there, waiting…”

You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours, offering him the comfort of your touch. “I can help you with them,” you whispered, your voice steady but tender. “You don’t have to go through it alone.”

Logan hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground as he weighed your words. “I don’t know…” he began, his voice trailing off. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. I don’t want you to see—”

You squeezed his hand, cutting him off gently. “Logan, you don’t have to protect me from this.  I’m not afraid of what you’ve been through. I just want to be there for you.” 

He looked up at you then, his eyes searching yours, filled with a mixture of vulnerability and something close to fear. “What if it’s too much?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “What if… what if it changes the way you see me?”

You stepped closer, bringing his hand up to your chest, letting him feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. “Nothing will change the way I see you,” you said, your voice firm. “I love every part of you, Logan. Even the parts you think are too dark, too broken. Let me in. Let me help.”

“I’m not who you think I am,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “The things I’ve done… I don’t deserve your love.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. “You deserve love, Logan. You deserve peace. I’m not going anywhere, no matter what you think you deserve.”

Logan stared at you for a long moment, the internal battle clear in his eyes. Finally, he gave a slow, reluctant nod, though the tension in his body didn’t entirely ease. “Alright,” he whispered, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

You smiled softly, lifting your hand to cup his cheek. “I love you,” you promised, your thumb brushing gently across his skin, a tender reminder of your unwavering support.

You held Logan’s gaze for a moment longer, letting the warmth of your touch seep into his skin, grounding him. Then, with a soft smile, you gently guided him back inside the house, the night air giving way to the comforting stillness of your home.

Once in the bedroom, you pulled back the covers and motioned for Logan to lie down beside you. He hesitated for a brief second, the tension still lingering in his shoulders, but then he did as you asked, trusting you with the parts of him that were still so fragile.

You lay down next to him, pressing your body close to his, reassuring him of your presence. His breathing was still uneven, the remnants of his turmoil evident in the tightness of his muscles.

Slowly, you reached out and placed your hand on his chest, over his heart, feeling the steady thrum beneath your palm. Closing your eyes, you let your power flow through you, focusing on the connection between you and Logan. It was an ability you had refined over the years, learning to use it not just to bring back memories, but to soothe and calm the storm inside people.

A soft, warm energy radiated from your hand, spreading through Logan’s body like a gentle wave. You could feel the tension beginning to ebb away, his breathing becoming more rhythmic, more at ease. As the calming energy enveloped him, you whispered reassuring words, barely audible, guiding him into a state of peace.

“Just relax. You’re safe. Just let go… I’ve got you.”

Logan’s body began to relax under your touch, the knots in his muscles slowly unraveling. His eyes fluttered closed, and you continued to channel the soothing energy, lulling him closer to sleep.

Before long, his breathing deepened, and his hand instinctively found yours, holding onto it as if it were his lifeline. He drifted off, the tension that had gripped him earlier now a distant memory. You stayed close, your power still working to shield him from the nightmares that had plagued him for so long.

But then, even in sleep, the shadows tried to creep in. Logan began to mumble, his brow furrowing as he tossed slightly, remnants of old fears threatening to pull him under. You tightened your grip on his hand and let your power surge a bit stronger, a soft, soothing balm that eased the distress in his mind.

The effect was immediate. Logan’s mumbling quieted, the lines on his forehead smoothing out as the calmness you projected enveloped him completely. For the first time in years, Logan found peace in sleep, undisturbed by the horrors of his past.

You watched him, your heart swelling with love as you stroked his hair gently, ensuring that the serenity remained. His grip on your hand relaxed, and a soft sigh escaped his lips as he settled deeper into the comfort of your presence.

As the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room, you allowed yourself to relax as well. You could feel the steady rise and fall of Logan’s chest, the peaceful rhythm of his breath, and knew that, for now, he was safe. The man who had once been tormented by nightmares was finally resting, his mind at ease, protected by the love and power you shared.

As you lay there beside him, your hand still resting over his heart, you felt a deep sense of fulfillment. This was your place—right here, beside him, offering him the solace he had so often been denied. While it had only been a few months since your lives became intertwined, Logan meant so much more to you than he could realize.

His presence in your life had become a constant, a source of strength and comfort that you had never known before. The depth of your feelings for him had grown rapidly, surprising you with their intensity. There was something about Logan—his strength, his vulnerability, the way he fought against the darkness within him—that drew you to him like nothing else ever had.

Sometimes, in quiet moments like this, you wondered what the future held. Would you continue to help him heal, to be the anchor he needed? Would the two of you find peace together, or would the shadows of his past continue to haunt him? There were so many unknowns, so many questions that lingered in the back of your mind.

But as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your hand, you knew one thing for certain: you weren’t going anywhere. Whatever the future held, you were committed to facing it with him. You had found something rare and precious in Logan, and you weren’t willing to let it slip away.

“I’ll always protect you, Logan. No matter what,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. 

He didn’t stir, but you knew, deep down, that he heard you.

For now, though, this was enough. This moment, with Logan safe and at peace beside you, was more than you could have ever hoped for and as sleep finally began to claim you, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together.

With that comforting thought, you allowed yourself to drift off, your hand still resting protectively over Logan’s heart, ready to shield him from the darkness, ready to walk beside him into whatever tomorrow might bring.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

Two years had passed since that night when Logan first told you he loved you. In that time, your lives had settled into a comfortable rhythm, one that felt as natural as breathing. Logan had moved in not long after, and together, you had built a life that was simple but filled with love and contentment.

The house had become a true home, with little touches that reflected the two of you—photos from your adventures together, Logan’s tools neatly organized in the garage, and your shared collection of books lining the shelves. The days were spent in quiet harmony, whether working side by side in the garden, cooking meals together, or simply enjoying each other’s company on lazy Sunday afternoons.

One evening, as you sat on the porch watching the sun dip below the horizon, Logan reached over and took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. The air was warm, the crickets beginning their evening chorus, and the world felt perfectly still.

“You ever think about the future?” he asked, his voice quiet but laced with curiosity.

You turned to look at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. “All the time,” you admitted. “What about you?”

Logan nodded, his gaze thoughtful as he stared out at the fading light. “Yeah, I do,” he said. “I never used to… not before you. But now… I think about it a lot.”

“What do you see when you think about it?” you asked, your heart swelling at the thought of a shared future with him.

He was silent for a moment as if carefully considering his words. “I think about us,” he began, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “Maybe getting married, starting a family. A life where we can just be… happy.”

His words sent a thrill through you, a mixture of excitement and contentment. “You’d want that?” you asked, your voice soft, almost disbelieving.

Logan turned to you then, his eyes filled with a sincerity that took your breath away. “More than anything,” he said.

Your heart felt like it could burst from the love you felt for him. “I want that too,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly. After a moment, you pulled back, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Though I was kind of hoping you’d ask me to marry you more romantically.”

Logan’s hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “I’m not a romantic guy,” he said but his voice held a laughter to it.

“Liar,” you replied, your fingers gently moving through his hair. 

Logan’s smile widened, his eyes softening as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time with a mix of relief and joy. The simple exchange solidified the bond between you, a promise of a future built on love, trust, and the deep connection you shared.

The idea of marrying Logan, of starting a family together, filled you with a warmth that radiated through your entire being. It was a future you could see so clearly—a future that felt right, that felt like the culmination of everything you had both been through to get to this point.

Over the next few weeks, the two of you talked about your future often, making plans, and dreaming about the life you would build together. The prospect of marriage and starting a family became a beacon of hope and joy, something to look forward to, something that made each day even brighter.

But then, everything changed. You always knew the past would eventually catch up with you, but little did you know that Logan’s had never truly gone away.

Logan was at work at the lumberyard, and you were home, going about your usual routine. The sun was high in the sky, and the air filled with the scent of freshly cut wood, as Logan went about his tasks. It was a day like any other—until he saw him.

William Stryker.

Logan’s blood ran cold the moment he recognized the man standing at the edge of the yard, watching him with that familiar, calculating gaze. Stryker hadn’t changed much in the years since Logan had last seen him—still exuding that air of authority, still holding that unsettling glint in his eyes.

Logan stopped what he was doing, his entire body tensing as Stryker approached, his stride confident and purposeful. “Logan,” Stryker greeted him, his tone deceptively casual. “Been a long time.”

Logan clenched his jaw, his fists curling at his sides. “What do you want, Stryker?” he asked, his voice low and edged with anger.

Stryker smiled a cold, calculated smile that told Logan everything he needed to know. “I’m not here to cause trouble,” he said, holding up his hands as if in surrender. “Just want to have a little chat. Thought you might be interested in rejoining Team X.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his entire being rejecting the idea before Stryker had even finished speaking. “Not a chance,” he growled. “I’m done with that life.”

Stryker tilted his head as if considering Logan’s words. “You say that now,” he said slowly, “but things change, Logan. People change. I know you’ve built a life for yourself here, but how long do you think that will last? How long before you get bored… before you start craving the action again?”

Logan’s mind flashed to you—your smile, your laugh, the way you felt in his arms. The life you were building together, the plans you’d made for the future. That was what mattered to him now. Not the past, not the violence and chaos of Team X.

“Not interested,” Logan said firmly, turning his back on Stryker and walking away.

But Stryker wasn’t done. “You think this little dream of yours is going to last?” he called after Logan, his voice cutting through the noise of the yard. “You think you can escape what you are? Who you are?”

Logan stopped in his tracks, his muscles tensing with barely restrained fury. Yet, he didn’t turn around. He wouldn’t give Stryker the satisfaction.

“I’ll be around if you change your mind,” Stryker continued, his voice now calm and almost friendly. “You know where to find me.”

Logan forced himself to keep walking, his mind reeling from the encounter. He couldn’t let Stryker get to him. He couldn’t let him ruin what he had with you.

But even as he tried to push Stryker’s words from his mind, a sliver of doubt began to creep in. Could he escape his past? Could he keep that part of himself buried, hidden away, and focus on the future he wanted with you?

He didn’t know the answer, but as he made his way back home, one thing was certain: he wasn’t going to let Stryker destroy the life he had built. He wouldn’t let him take away the happiness he had found with you.

When he walked through the door that evening, you were there waiting for him, your smile bright and welcoming but as you looked into his eyes, you could see something was wrong.

“Logan?” you asked, concern lacing your voice as you reached out to touch his arm. “What happened?” 

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he walked over to you, pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he were trying to shield you from something. His heart pounded against your chest, a frantic rhythm that matched your own.

You pulled back slightly, searching his face for answers. “What is it?”

Logan sighed, his expression pained. “Stryker found me.”

The name sent a chill down your spine. You had heard of William Stryker—Logan had told you enough about him for you to know that he was a man to be feared. A man who had once held power over Logan’s life in ways you could barely comprehend.

“What does he want?” you asked, your voice barely holding steady.

“He wants me to rejoin Team X,” Logan said, the words heavy with regret and anger. “He thinks I’ll go back to that life, but I told him no but he doesn’t take no for an answer.”

A wave of fear crashed over you, chilling you to the bone. You had known that Logan’s past was dark, but the reality of it coming back, threatening the life you’d built together, was more than you could bear.

“What are we going to do?” you asked, your voice small and trembling.

Logan took a deep breath, his grip tightening around you as if he could somehow protect you from the storm that was brewing. “We’re going to keep living our lives,” he said, his voice firm despite the turmoil you could see swirling in his eyes. “I’m not letting him take this away from us. I’m not going back to that life.”

“He's not going to stop, you just said so.” you pressed, fear and uncertainty creeping into your words. “He’ll keep coming after you.” 

Logan’s eyes softened slightly as he looked at you, the tension in his expression giving way to something more tender. “I’ll handle it,” he promised. “I’ve fought worse battles, and I’ve come out the other side. I’m not going to let Stryker or anyone else take away what we have.”

His words were meant to reassure you, but the dread in your heart wouldn’t completely fade. You knew Logan was strong, but Stryker was a force that wouldn’t be easily deterred. Still, you nodded, wanting to believe that Logan could protect you, that he could protect the future you had planned together.

“Logan,” you whispered, your voice steadying as you looked into his eyes. You wanted to say a million things, but at that moment, nothing else mattered.

Logan shook his head slightly, as if to quiet your worries, before leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered there, warm and reassuring, as if he could somehow transfer some of his strength to you. “I know,” he murmured, sensing the uneasiness that you couldn’t quite hide. “But I need you to promise me something.”

You looked up at him, your heart pounding as you waited for his words.

“If things get dangerous, if Stryker makes a move—promise me you’ll get out of here. Go somewhere safe.”

The thought of leaving him, of running away while he faced whatever Stryker had planned, made your stomach turn. “Logan, I can’t just leave you—”

“Promise me,” he interrupted his voice firm but laced with desperation. “I need to know you’ll be safe. That’s the only way I can fight this without losing my mind.”

You swallowed hard, the reality of the situation sinking in. Logan was willing to do whatever it took to protect you, even if it meant facing his past head-on and as much as it pained you. You knew you had to respect his wishes.

“I promise,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. “But only if you promise to come back to me.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. “I promise,” he said, his voice full of conviction. “I’ll come back to you. Always.”

Deep down, a part of you couldn’t shake the fear that the life you had built was about to be torn apart.

The days that followed were tense, filled with an undercurrent of dread that neither of you could ignore. Logan continued to go to work, determined to maintain some sense of normalcy, but you could see the strain in his eyes every time he left the house.

You tried to keep busy, distracting yourself with everyday tasks, but the shadow of Stryker’s threat loomed over everything. You found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder, jumping at every unexpected noise, your heart pounding with the fear that Stryker could appear at any moment.

And then, one day, he did.

You were at home, going through the motions of your daily routine, when a knock at the door sent a chill down your spine. You froze, your heart racing as you stared at the door, knowing in your gut that this wasn’t a friendly visit.

Slowly, you approached the door, your hand trembling as you reached for the knob. You hesitated, your mind racing with thoughts of what could be waiting on the other side.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and opened the door.

There he stood—William Stryker, his cold eyes studying you with a calculated intensity that made your blood run cold. He was dressed impeccably, his posture calm and composed, but there was an underlying menace in his presence that sent every alarm in your body screaming.

“Hello,” he said, his voice smooth and unnervingly polite. “You must be Logan’s little lady.”

Your throat tightened, and you gripped the edge of the door, resisting the urge to slam it shut in his face. “What do you want?” you managed to ask, your voice steady despite the fear coursing through you.

Stryker’s smile was thin, more of a predator’s smirk than a sign of friendliness. “I’m here to talk to Logan. I believe he’s been avoiding me.”

“He’s not here,” you replied quickly, praying that Logan would stay away until Stryker was gone.

Stryker nodded as if he expected that answer. “I figured as much. He can’t avoid me forever. Sooner or later, he’ll have to face the truth.” 

“What truth?” you asked, dread settling like a heavy stone in your stomach.

“The truth that no matter how far he runs, he’ll never escape who he really is,” Stryker said, his voice dropping to a low, ominous tone. “He’s a soldier, a weapon, an animal. Deep down, he knows it.” 

You shook your head, refusing to let Stryker���s words get to you. “Logan is more than that. He’s not the person you’re trying to make him be.”

Stryker’s eyes narrowed, and momentarily, the facade of politeness slipped, revealing the cold, calculating man underneath. “We’ll see about that,” he said, his voice hard.

He turned to leave, but then hesitated, sighing as he turned back toward you. There was a faint, unsettling look in his eye, something almost resembling concern, but you knew better.

“Oh, I almost forgot to mention,” Stryker paused, his tone deceptively casual. “Some of the guys on the team have… gone missing. I assume they’re dead—because of Victor. He’s big on revenge, I suppose. Anyway, do let Logan know. Victor will probably be here sooner rather than later.” 

Stryker’s words hung in the air like a dark cloud, their weight pressing down on you. You stood there, frozen, as the full meaning of his warning settled in. The mere mention of Victor’s name had always carried an edge, a hint of danger that now felt all too real.

Before you could find your voice, Stryker gave you a cold, almost dismissive nod and turned on his heel, walking away with the same calculated confidence he had arrived with. The sound of his footsteps echoed faintly in the distance, but the chill he brought into your home lingered long after he was gone.

You closed the door slowly, your hands trembling as you locked it as if that simple action could keep the world outside from crashing in. But you knew better. Stryker’s words, his warning about Victor, had already set things in motion—things that couldn’t be undone by a locked door.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the dread coiled in your stomach like a snake ready to strike. Victor was coming and if what Stryker said was true, he was out for blood.

Logan. You had to warn Logan.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

You threw the truck into the park, barely taking the time to turn off the engine before jumping out and running across the lumber yard. Panic fueled your steps as you searched desperately for Logan. He sensed you before he saw you, your scent unmistakable to him. He turned just in time to see you rushing toward him, a terrified look on your face.

“Logan,” you called, your voice trembling, barely above a whisper. “Stryker came to the house.”

Logan’s entire body went still, his breath catching in his throat. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, his tone hard as all traces of calmness vanished.

“He—” you hesitated, the weight of Stryker’s words still sinking in. “He warned me about Victor. He said some of the team members have gone missing, and he thinks Victor’s behind it. Logan, he said Victor might come here… soon.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with a mix of anger and fear. “Damn it,” he muttered, his mind racing as he processed the information. He turned to you, his expression grim, the weight of his decision clear in his eyes. “You need to leave. Now.”

Your heart dropped at Logan’s words. The thought of leaving him now, in the face of such danger, was unbearable. But the look in his eyes—so fierce and determined—told you that he wasn’t giving you a choice.

“Logan, I can’t just leave you,” you protested, your voice shaking with emotion. “Not now, not when—”

“You have to,” he cut you off, his voice firm but laced with desperation. “If Victor is coming, I can’t let you be here when he arrives. I need to know you’re safe.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as the reality of the situation sank in. “Where will I go?”

Logan’s gaze softened slightly, but the urgency remained. “There’s a motel on the edge of town, near the highway. Go there, stay out of sight. I’ll come for you when it’s safe.”

You shook your head, feeling a mix of fear and helplessness. “What about you?”

Logan stepped closer, placing his hands on your shoulders, his grip firm but gentle. “I’ll handle Victor. I’ve dealt with him before. But I can’t focus on that if I’m worrying about you. Please, just go.”

You could see the fear in his eyes, the fear of losing you. It mirrored your own. But you also saw the resolve, the determination that had always been a part of him. He wasn’t just asking you to leave—he was begging you to trust him.

You swallowed hard, nodding even though every part of you wanted to stay by his side. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “But promise me you’ll come back to me, Logan.”

Logan’s expression softened further, and he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. “I promise,” he murmured into your hair, his voice filled with emotion. “I’ll come back to you. I swear it.”

For a moment, you held onto him, memorizing the feel of his arms around you, the warmth of his body. But the clock was ticking, and you both knew it. Reluctantly, you pulled back, looking up at him one last time.

“I love you,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute.

Logan cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. “I love you too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Now go. Don’t look back.”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep from breaking down completely. With one last lingering look, you turned and ran back to the truck, your heart heavy with fear and uncertainty.

As you drove away, the lumberyard fading in the rearview mirror, your mind raced with thoughts of Logan, of Victor, of what might happen next. The fear gnawed at you, but you forced yourself to focus on getting to safety, on doing what Logan needed you to do.

The road ahead was dark, the highway stretching out before you like a path to the unknown. Every mile felt like a thousand, every minute an eternity. But you kept going, knowing that this was what Logan wanted—what he needed.

You reached the motel just as the first signs of dawn began to streak the sky. Exhausted and emotionally drained, you checked in, barely registering the details as the clerk handed you the key. The room was small and plain, but it felt like a sanctuary amid chaos.

Once inside, you locked the door, double-checking it as if that would somehow keep the world at bay. Then you collapsed onto the bed, your mind and body finally giving in to the weight of everything that had happened.

You wanted to sleep, to escape the fear that clung to you like a second skin, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Logan—wondering if he was safe, if he was already facing the man who had haunted his past and now threatened your future.

You curled up on the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if that could somehow replace the comfort of Logan’s embrace. The room was silent, but your mind was anything but. The uncertainty of what would come next loomed large, the fear of losing Logan gnawing at your heart.

And as the hours stretched on, you could only hope that Logan would keep his promise—that he would come back to you, safe and whole, so you could face whatever was ahead together.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

Hours had passed, each one stretching out longer than the last. You stayed at the motel, anxiously waiting for Logan to return, clinging to the promise he had made. But as the hours turned into days, the silence became unbearable. The weight of not knowing gnawed at you, a constant ache that you couldn’t shake.

Logan hadn’t come back.

You tried to convince yourself that he was okay, that he was just being cautious, making sure everything was safe before coming to get you. But as the days dragged on without a word, your worry grew into something more—a cold, suffocating fear that something had gone wrong.

By the time the third day arrived, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to know. You had to find him.

With a resolve born from desperation, you packed up your things and checked out of the motel. The drive back into town felt surreal, the familiar road now filled with an ominous tension. The closer you got, the tighter the knot in your stomach grew.

When you finally pulled into town, the sight of the lumber yard where you last saw Logan filled you with both hope and dread. The place was eerily quiet, the usual hum of activity replaced by an unsettling stillness. You parked the truck and stepped out, your heart pounding as you scanned the area for any sign of Logan.

But there was nothing—no sign of him, no indication that he had ever been there.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus. If Logan wasn’t here, then you needed to check the house. Maybe he had gone back there, maybe he was waiting for you. The thought gave you a glimmer of hope, just enough to push you forward.

You drove through town, your eyes darting to every corner, every shadow, searching for any hint of him. But the town was quiet, almost unnaturally so, as if it too was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

When you finally reached the house, your heart sank. The front door was slightly ajar, and the wood splintered as if it had been forced open. Panic surged through you as you hurried out of the truck, running to the door.

“Logan?” you called out, your voice trembling with fear.

There was no answer.

You pushed the door open, stepping inside cautiously. The house was dark, the only light coming from the early morning sun filtering through the curtains. Everything was in disarray—the furniture overturned, the walls scuffed as if there had been a struggle.

Your breath hitched as you took it all in, your mind racing with the worst possibilities.

“Logan!” you called again, louder this time, hoping against hope that he was somewhere inside, that he was okay.

But the house was silent.

You moved through the rooms quickly, checking every corner, every shadow, but Logan was nowhere to be found. The fear that had been gnawing at you for days now took root, sinking deep into your bones.

As you made your way to the bedroom, your heart nearly stopped. The bed was untouched, the sheets still neatly made—the way you had left them. But what caught your attention was the blood on the floor, a dark stain that hadn’t been there before. Your knees nearly buckled as you stared at it, the implications crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

You forced yourself to stay calm, to think. The blood could be Logan’s, or it could belong to someone else. But either way, it wasn’t a good sign.

You turned and rushed back through the house, your panic growing with every step. As you reached the front door, you paused, your hand trembling on the doorknob. You didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to accept that something had happened to Logan—but the evidence was all around you.

You had to find him. You had to know the truth.

Grabbing your keys, you ran back to the truck and sped off, your mind racing with possibilities. You thought about Stryker, about Victor, about the people from Logan’s past who might be responsible for this. You had no clear plan, no idea where to go or who to turn to—but you couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.

You drove to the lumberyard again, hoping someone there might have seen or heard something. The few workers you found there were no help; they hadn’t seen Logan in days. The town felt like it was closing in on you, every shadow hiding a new fear, every corner holding a new dread.

Next, you tried the local bar—one of the few places where Logan had gone to clear his head when things got tough. But the bartender shook his head when you asked if he had seen Logan.

It was as if Logan had vanished into thin air.

What else could you do? You had no idea where Logan had gone, and even if you did find Victor or Stryker, you knew you’d be no match against them. 

You sat in the truck, gripping the steering wheel as the tears began to fall freely, blurring your vision. The weight of everything crashed down on you all at once—the fear, the uncertainty, the overwhelming sense of helplessness. You had done everything you could think of, but it felt like you were hitting one dead end after another.

You closed your eyes, letting the tears stream down your face, your sobs quiet but deep, shaking your entire body. You didn’t know what else to do, or where else to turn. All you could do was sit there, trapped in your fear and despair, hoping that somehow, some way, Logan would come back to you.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

A year had passed since that terrible day. A year of searching, of moving from one town to the next, chasing down rumors and whispers, but finding nothing. Not a trace of Logan, Stryker, or Victor. It was as if they had all vanished into thin air.

You had driven countless miles, crossing from small towns to sprawling cities, hoping to catch even the smallest lead. But every time, the trail went cold. The hope that had once fueled your search had slowly started to fade, replaced by a growing despair.

Logan was gone, and no one knew where.

Some days, you imagined the worst: that Stryker had found a way to kill Logan despite his Regenerative Healing Factor, or that he was being kept somewhere being used as a weapon, far from the life the two of you had started to build together.

You tried to move on, tried to convince yourself that Logan was gone, that there was nothing left to find. Yet, deep down you couldn’t give up, even when every sign told you that the man you loved was lost forever.

It was that stubborn hope that had led you here, to a small town on the border of Canada and the U.S. It was a place like so many others you had visited—quiet, unassuming, the kind of place people went when they didn’t want to be found. You had been here for a few days, following another dead-end lead, and you were ready to move on again.

However, something drew you into a local bar, a small, dimly lit place that smelled of stale beer and old wood.

You pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside, the murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses filling the air. You weren’t expecting much—maybe just a drink to help you sleep, to drown out the endless questions and fears that haunted you. But as your eyes adjusted to the dim light, something—or rather, someone—caught your attention.

There, sitting alone at the bar, was Logan.

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. It couldn’t be. You had been searching for so long, and here he was, just sitting there as if nothing had happened.

He looked different—more worn, intense, but it was undeniably him. The same rugged features, the same broad shoulders, the same haunted look in his eyes that you had come to know so well. But something was off. He seemed distant, detached as if the world around him barely registered.

Heart pounding, you approached him slowly, your mind racing with a million thoughts and emotions. Relief, disbelief, hope—all of them battled for dominance as you took each step closer to him.

“Logan,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you reached his side.

He didn’t react. His eyes were fixed on the glass in front of him, the amber liquid inside swirling as he tilted it slightly. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the weariness etched into his features.

“Logan,” you said again, louder this time, your voice trembling with a mix of desperation and hope.

Finally, he turned to look at you, his gaze slow and deliberate. But the moment his eyes met yours, your heart dropped. There was no recognition there—no spark of familiarity, no hint that he knew who you were.

“Can I help you?” Logan asked, his voice gruff, with no trace of the warmth you had once known so well.

It felt as if the ground had been ripped out from under you. The Logan you had known was gone. The man before you looked like him, sounded like him, but had no memory of the life you had shared.

It took everything in you to fight back the tears. “Sorry, you just… you look like someone I used to know,” you stammered, your voice barely steady.

Logan’s brow furrowed in confusion, and he shook his head slowly. “Sorry, lady. I don’t know you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless with sorrow yet there was no way you were going to leave not after spending so much time looking for him.

You swallowed hard, forcing a small, tight smile as you tried to play off the hurt that threatened to overwhelm you. “Yeah… must be a mistake,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan gave you a brief, puzzled glance before turning back to his drink, seemingly dismissing the encounter. He took another sip, his attention already drifting away, back to whatever thoughts were occupying his mind.

Your heart felt like it was being crushed under the weight of your emotions, but you fought to keep your composure. You couldn’t fall apart now—not here, not in front of him.

Taking a shaky breath, you moved to the stool next to him and sat down, trying to steady yourself. The bartender approached, wiping down the counter with a practiced ease. “What can I get you?” he asked, his tone polite but disinterested.

“A whiskey, neat,” you replied, your voice steadier than you expected. It felt strange, almost surreal, to be sitting here, ordering a drink like nothing was wrong. Like the man sitting beside you wasn’t the love of your life who had somehow forgotten everything you’d shared.

As you waited for your drink, you stole a glance at Logan. He was staring into his glass, his expression distant, almost lost. He looked tired—exhausted, even—but there was something else in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite place. It was as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet had no idea why.

The bartender set your drink in front of you, and you nodded in thanks, wrapping your fingers around the glass. For a moment, you just sat there, staring at the amber liquid, trying to make sense of the situation. How could this have happened? What had Stryker done to him but more importantly, how could you possibly bring him back?

You took a sip, the warmth of the whiskey spreading through your chest, grounding you in the moment. You needed to find out if his memories were completely gone. If they weren’t, there was a possibility you could bring them back. It was risky, especially since you had never tried something like that before.

Logan glanced at you briefly, his brow furrowing again. “You’re still here?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

“It’s a public bar,” you quipped back, the words slipping out more sharply than you intended. “If you don’t like it, then leave.”

You hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but the situation was fraying your nerves. Logan didn’t seem fazed, though. He simply rolled his eyes and took a long sip from his glass, his expression unreadable.

For a while, the two of you sat in silence, the only sound between you the clinking of glasses and the low hum of conversation from the other patrons. It was both comforting and heartbreaking to be near him despite the divide that existed between you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Logan spoke again. He glanced at you briefly. “You from around here?”

“No,” you replied, shaking your head slightly. “Just passing through.” The words felt hollow, a cover for the deep truth you couldn’t share with him—at least, not yet.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Logan spoke again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “You said I looked like someone you used to know. Who was he?”

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. How could you possibly explain? But you couldn’t ignore the question either, not when it was the first real hint of interest he had shown in you.

“He was… someone important,” you began, choosing your words carefully. “Someone who meant the world to me. We went through a lot together, and I lost him… a while back.”

Logan’s gaze flickered with something—curiosity, maybe—but he didn’t press further. Instead, he simply nodded, as if understanding something he couldn’t quite put into words.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, his tone sincere. “Losing people… it’s hard.”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “It is.”

Another silence fell between you, but this one felt different—less strained, more shared. Even if he didn’t remember you, didn’t know who you were, there was still something between you, a connection that hadn’t been completely severed.

As the evening wore on, you both finished your drinks, the conversation dwindling into companionable silence. It wasn’t the reunion you had hoped for, but it was something—a starting point, maybe. You didn’t know what the future held, didn’t know if you could ever bring Logan’s memories back, but sitting there with him, you knew one thing for certain: you weren’t going to give up on him.

Logan eventually pushed his empty glass away and stood up, reaching for his wallet. “Well, it was nice talking to you…,” he said, trailing off as he realized he didn’t know your name.

You offered it, hoping the familiarity would spark something in him, ignite some glimmer of recognition. Logan just nodded, handing the bartender some cash. “Nice talking to you,” he replied, his tone polite but distant.

He gave you a final, almost apologetic glance before turning and heading toward the door. You watched him go, your heart aching with every step he took away from you.

You drained the last of your whiskey, setting the glass down with a quiet determination. This was just the beginning of a new chapter and no matter how long it took, you were going to fight for him. Deep down, you believed that the man you loved was still in there, somewhere.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

For the next few days, you camped out at the bar, hoping Logan would return. It felt helpless, a long shot at best, but all logical ideas had vanished from your mind. How else could you find him, connect with him, or get another chance to help him remember?

You sat at the same stool each evening, nursing a drink and watching the door with a mixture of hope and dread. Every time the door creaked open, your heart would leap, only to sink again when it wasn’t him. The bartender had started giving you curious looks, probably wondering why you kept coming back. But you didn’t care. You had to be there, just in case.

On the third night, as you sat swirling the whiskey in your glass, lost in thought, the door opened again. This time, when you looked up, your breath caught in your throat.

Logan had returned.

He walked in with the same weary expression, the weight of the world on his shoulders. He glanced around the room, his eyes passing over you briefly before he moved to the bar. There was no recognition, no sign that anything had changed for him.

But it was enough. He was here, and that meant you had another chance.

You watched as he ordered a drink, his movements methodical, almost robotic. He looked like a man going through the motions, detached from everything around him. It hurt to see him this way, so far from the Logan you had known, but it only strengthened your resolve.

After a moment, you took a deep breath and approached him, sliding into the seat next to him as casually as you could manage. “Back again, I see,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

Logan glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Yeah,” he replied simply, taking a sip from his glass. There was no recognition in his eyes, just the same detached politeness as before. 

You hesitated, searching for the right words. You couldn’t push too hard, couldn’t overwhelm him, but you had to do something—anything—to get through to him. “So, do you come here often?” you asked, the cliché question sounding awkward even to your ears, but it was a start.

Logan set his drink down, his brows furrowing as he turned to you. “Look, lady. What do you want from me? Who do you work for?”

The abruptness of his question caught you off guard, and your heart skipped a beat. There was a sharp edge to his voice, a defensive suspicion that hadn’t been there before. It was as if, deep down, some part of him sensed the truth—that this wasn’t just a casual conversation, that there was something more beneath the surface.

“I don’t work for anyone,” you replied quickly, trying to keep your voice calm despite the sudden tension. “I’m just…”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, studying you closely, his gaze sharp and unyielding. “You don’t just ‘talk’ to strangers like this. So why me? What’s your angle?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the pressure of his scrutiny, but Logan wasn’t easing up. He leaned in closer, his presence overwhelming, the familiar scent of him invading your senses. “You think you’re clever, darlin’? I’ve sat across the street watching you come in this bar for days—waiting for me.”

His words cut through you, and your heart raced as you realized he had been more aware of you than you’d thought. There was an intensity in his eyes, a mixture of suspicion and something else—something darker, more dangerous.

“I’m not trying to trick you,” you said, your voice steadying even as your pulse quickened. You needed a lie, a good one. “I’m just lost. I thought maybe—” 

“Maybe what?” Logan interrupted, his tone harsh. “You thought you could just waltz in here, play nice, and I’d spill my guts?” 

You shook your head, desperate to break through the wall he was putting up. “No, it’s not like that. I’m not here to hurt you.” You hesitated, feeling the weight of the truth pressing down on you. You couldn’t tell him everything—not yet.

For a long moment, Logan just stared at you, his eyes searching yours for answers he couldn’t find. Then, with a frustrated growl, he pushed back from the bar, shaking his head as if trying to clear it.

“Look, lady, I don’t know who you are or what you think you know, but I’m not the guy you’re looking for,” he said, his voice hardening again. “So fuck off.”

The harshness of his words hit you like a blow, but you nodded, too scared to even speak again. You watched as he turned away, your heart heavy with the realization that the man you once knew was buried even deeper than you had feared.

You decided you weren’t going to leave, not yet. You needed to see if there was any part of the man you knew still inside him. Maybe if you gave him some space, and kept your distance, you could still figure out a way to reach him.

The bar was getting busier, more people trickling in as the night wore on. You wandered over to the pool table, where a couple of guys were already playing. One of them, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a cocky grin, caught your eye. He gestured toward the table with his pool cue, clearly inviting you to join.

You forced a smile and nodded, figuring it was as good a distraction as any. You needed something to take your mind off the encounter with Logan, something to keep you grounded in the here and now. Playing pool with some random guy would help pass the time and give you a chance to stay in the bar without drawing too much attention to yourself.

“Mind if I join?” you asked as you approached, keeping your voice light.

“Not at all,” the guy said with a grin, handing you a cue. “Name’s Jake. What about you?”

You hesitated for a split second, before offering a fake name. “Anna.” 

“Well, Anna, let’s see if you’re any good,” Jake said with a wink.

You tried to relax, focusing on the game as Jake racked up the balls and took his first shot. He was good, but you weren’t bad either, and soon you found yourself getting into the rhythm of the game. Jake kept the conversation going with light banter and flirtatious comments, but you brushed most of it off, keeping your responses neutral.

As the game went on, Jake’s flirting grew bolder. He stood a little too close, his hand lingering on yours when he passed you the cue, his compliments becoming more suggestive. You tried to keep things light, laughing off his advances, but you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that was starting to settle in the pit of your stomach.

Finally, after you sank a particularly tricky shot, Jake leaned in close, his voice low. “You know, you’re pretty good at this,” he said, his breath warm against your ear. “But I bet there’s something else you’re even better at.”

You stiffened, pulling back slightly. “Thanks for the game, Jake,” you said, trying to keep your tone casual as you turned to set down your cue. “But I think I’m done for the night.”

Before you could move away, Jake’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” he said, his tone still playful but with an edge that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m just having a little fun.”

“I said I’m done,” you repeated, trying to pull your arm free but Jake tightened his grip, pulling you closer. You tried to squirm your hands to make direct contact with him, but his grip tightened making your powers useless. 

“Don’t be so uptight,” he said, his voice darkening as he backed you up against the wall. “We were just getting started.”

Fear spiked through you as Jake pressed closer, his body trapping yours against the rough wood. You could feel the tension in his grip, the predatory look in his eyes, and you knew this was about to go very wrong.

“Jake, let me go,” you demanded, trying to keep your voice firm despite the fear clawing at you.

Jake just smirked, leaning in even closer. “I don’t think you really want that,” he whispered, his breath hot against your cheek.

Panic flared in your chest, but before you could react, a hand suddenly clamped down on Jake’s shoulder, yanking him back with surprising force. Jake stumbled backward, catching himself on the edge of the pool table, but froze as three long, metal claws pressed against his throat.

“Get your hands off her,” a low, familiar voice growled.

You looked up, your heart pounding, to see Logan standing there, his expression dark with anger. He didn’t look at you; his eyes were locked on Jake, who had sobered up instantly, clearly not expecting to be interrupted—especially not like this. 

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Jake asked, panic seeping into his voice as Logan’s claws pressed closer to his throat. You watched in horror, realizing that something was different about Logan—his once bone claws had been replaced with metal.

“What’s it matter to you, bub?” Logan snarled, his voice carrying a deadly edge.

Jake’s eyes darted between the claws and Logan’s face, fear widening his eyes. “Alright, man, just… just take it easy,” he stammered, his bravado completely shattered. “I didn’t know she was yours.”

“She’s not,” Logan snapped, the metal claws glinting under the dim bar lights. “But that doesn’t mean you get to put your hands on her.”

Jake swallowed hard, nodding frantically as he tried to lean away from the deadly claws. “Okay, okay, I got it. I won’t touch her, I swear.”

Logan held Jake’s terrified gaze for a moment longer before finally stepping back, retracting his claws with a sharp metallic sound that echoed through the now-silent bar. Jake nearly collapsed with relief, scrambling to get as far away from Logan as possible.

“Get out of here,” Logan growled, his voice still low and menacing.

Jake didn’t need to be told twice. He practically bolted for the door, not daring to look back. The bar patrons, who had been watching the scene unfold in stunned silence, began murmuring among themselves, the tension in the air slowly dissipating.

Yet the tension in the air was still thick between you and Logan as he turned, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of injury. “You trying to start a bar fight?” he asked gruffly, his voice still edged with anger.

You shook your head, your heart pounding as Logan stepped closer to you. He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to make sense of the emotions warring inside him. Finally, he nodded, his expression softening just a fraction. “You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. 

He stepped closer, just inches between the two of you, as he brought his hands up, bracing them on the wall behind you, closing you in between his arms. The heat of his body radiated toward you, his presence overwhelming as his gaze locked onto yours.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you crackled with tension, a mix of fear, longing, and something deeper that neither of you could fully name. Logan’s breath was warm against your skin, his closeness intoxicating, but there was a wariness in his eyes—a warning that this was a line you shouldn’t cross.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” he whispered, his voice rough, tinged with something almost vulnerable.

Despite the warning in his words, he didn’t pull away. He stayed there, inches from you as if torn between the urge to protect you and the desire to completely ruin you.

“You did that shit to get my attention, sweetheart. Go on, admit it.”

You shook your head again, pressing your body flat against the wall, but you couldn’t deny the heat spreading through you. Desire was building, stirred by the way Logan had protected you, by the raw intensity in his eyes.

Logan tsked softly, his lips brushing against your cheek before he whispered in your ear, his voice low and teasing. “So, you’re just wet for no reason?”

“I—I…” You stumbled over your words, your mind racing as you completely forgot that Logan could smell your arousal. It had been so long—one year, two days, and three hours—since he last touched you. This was a terrible, horrible idea, but if you could make direct contact, you might be able to see if his memories were still there.

Logan’s lips curled into a smirk, his breath hot against your ear. “If you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask, baby.”

Your heart pounded, a mixture of fear and longing swirling inside you. You knew this was dangerous, knew that giving in could complicate everything—but the thought of being close to him again, of maybe finding a way to reach the man you loved, was almost too much to resist.

“I want you to touch me,” you finally said, your voice a bit weak, but resolute. “To make me feel good.”

Logan smirked, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you toward the bathroom. In a blur of motion, he had the door locked and pushed you against it, his lips crashing against yours with a fierce, almost desperate intensity.

Slowly, you snaked your hand up his shirt, hesitant but determined, and placed it on his chest. The contact was electric, your palm pressed against the hard planes of muscle beneath the fabric. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, unyielding, grounding you in the moment. For a second, you closed your eyes, focusing on the connection, willing yourself to find something—anything—that would prove the man you loved was still in there.

As your hand remained on his chest, something shifted. Recent memories flashed before your eyes, unbidden and vivid. You saw Stryker, his cold, calculating gaze fixed on Logan, and then Victor, throwing Logan against a wall with brutal force before stepping on his bone claws, breaking them in half.

You saw Logan submerged in water, long needles being injected into every inch of his body, before he broke out of the tank, screaming. Every recent memory was filled with regret, pain, and fear, flooding your mind until you could barely hold on.

Your chest tightened as the images surged through you, the reality of what Logan had endured washing over you in relentless waves. His pain, his anger, his confusion—it was all there, just beneath the surface, trapped within him. The memories were fragmented and disjointed, but they were enough to confirm what you had feared and hoped for the man you loved was still there, buried beneath the torment.

Logan pulled back slightly, his breath ragged, as if sensing the shift in you. “What’s wrong?” he muttered, his voice rough but tinged with genuine concern.

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, the intensity of what you had just seen left you speechless. The man standing before you was the same Logan you had always known, yet he was different—burdened by new memories and experiences that had left him deeply scarred.

“It’s nothing,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you struggled to push the memories aside, to stay in the moment with him. “Just… don’t stop.”

Logan’s eyes searched yours as if trying to read the truth behind your words, but then he nodded, pressing his forehead against yours. You gasped as his hand lifted your dress, pushing your panties aside before sliding two fingers into your entrance. “I won’t,” he promised, his voice low, almost guttural.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you tried to steady yourself. It was impossible to focus as his fingers thrusted in and out of you, the pleasure making your body tremble. But you pushed it aside, forcing yourself to slip back inside Logan’s mind, determined to find the man you knew was still there.

More images flickered by—scenes from his childhood, memories you had glimpsed before. Little Logan—or James—was sick in bed, his father comforting him by reading a story. You felt a pang of sadness, but you skipped ahead, not wanting to lose yourself that far in the past, knowing you needed to stay focused.

Then, suddenly, you saw it. A memory of you flickered by. Logan standing there as you danced around the living room, wearing his plaid shirt and grinning at him. You remembered that moment so well—the joy, the love, the simple happiness of being together.

Logan’s lips found yours again, the kiss slower this time, more deliberate, pulling you out of his mind. You sighed into it, letting the memory linger as his kiss deepened. Your desire was building, but you felt something else—a flicker of recognition, a spark of the man you loved. It was faint, buried under layers of pain and confusion, but it was there. Logan might not remember everything, but at this moment, in this connection, there was a part of him that was still yours.

You pulled back slightly, your breath shaky, as the weight of it all pressed down on you. “Logan…”

His voice, low and rough, sent a shiver through you. “You take my fingers so well, darling.”

You closed your eyes, trying to anchor yourself in the moment, trying to hold on to that spark of recognition you’d found. “Logan…,” you whispered again, your voice trembling with both need and the deep, unshakable love you felt for him.

He paused, his fingers still buried inside you, his breath hot against your neck. There was a beat of silence, thick with tension and unspoken words as if he was struggling to hold onto something—some part of himself that was slipping away.

Your eyes flickered open as Logan’s fingers slowly slipped out of you, his expression shifting from raw intensity to something more distant, confused. His brow furrowed, and he took a small step back, almost as if he were trying to retreat within himself.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, concern threading through your voice as you tried to take a step toward him, but the space between you suddenly felt vast.

Logan shook his head slightly as if trying to clear it. “I… I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice uncharacteristically uncertain. His eyes darted away from you as if he couldn’t bear to meet your gaze. “I must be losing it.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the raw vulnerability in his voice cutting deep. You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you gently cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. “Logan,” you said softly, willing him to hear the certainty in your voice.

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as if seeking some kind of anchor in the storm raging inside him. Yet when he opened them again, they were clouded with doubt, the flicker of recognition you had seen earlier slipping further away.

“Everything’s so messed up in my head,” Logan whispered, the words carrying the weight of his turmoil.

You swallowed hard, the pain in his voice making your heartache. “Then let me help you,” you whispered, your thumb brushing gently across his cheek. “I can help you remember.”

Logan searched your eyes, the conflict within him clear as day. For a moment, you thought he might pull away completely, and retreat into the walls he had built around himself. But then, something shifted in his gaze—a flicker of the man you knew, the man who had always fought for you, no matter what.

His voice hung in the air, rough and hesitant, echoing with uncertainty. “What if I don’t want to remember?”

The question lingered between you, heavy with unspoken fears. For a moment, you were at a loss for words, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his eyes. You had been so focused on helping him remember, on bringing back the man you loved, that it hadn’t occurred to you that maybe he didn’t want to return to who he was before. Perhaps the memories he’d lost were too painful, too overwhelming to reclaim.

“Logan,” you began softly, your heart tightening at the sight of his troubled expression. “I know you’ve been a lot, but I know the man you are deep down, even if you don’t remember him right now.”

His eyes darkened, conflicted as if he was grappling with something he couldn’t quite articulate. “What if… what if remembering makes it worse? I get a glimpse every night of what it feels like—all the pain I’ve been trying to get away from.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, the intensity of his emotions washing over you. “I can’t promise you it won’t hurt, but you don’t have to go through it alone. You once told me that the pain lets you know you’re still alive.”

Logan’s gaze softened, but the uncertainty still lingered in his eyes. He took a deep breath as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to face it,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Your heart ached for him, for the weight of the burden he was carrying, but you refused to let him sink back into that darkness. “You are strong enough, Logan,” you said firmly, your grip on his face tightening slightly. “You’ve always been strong enough.”

Logan closed his eyes again as if absorbing your words, letting them settle deep within him. When he opened them, there was a glimmer of something new—hope, perhaps, or at least the beginnings of it. “I’m scared of what I’ve done… of who I’ve become.”

You could see the fear etched in his features, the same fear that had been lurking beneath the surface since the moment you saw him at the diner. “Whatever you’ve done, whatever you’ve become,” you said gently, “it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still the man I love. And nothing is going to change that.”

Logan stared at you, his expression a mixture of disbelief and longing as if he was daring to hope for something he thought he had lost. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t get to decide that,” you replied softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I’m here because I choose to be. Because I love you, Logan. All of you, no matter what.”

For a long moment, Logan didn’t say anything. He just stood there, his forehead still pressed against yours, his eyes searching yours as if looking for something to hold onto. Then, slowly, he nodded, the smallest hint of a smile breaking through the storm in his gaze.

“Fine,” he whispered, the word filled with a fragile hope. “Alright… we’ll try.”

You felt a surge of relief, the tension in your chest easing slightly as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. “We’ll try,” you echoed, your voice soft but filled with determination. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Logan’s arms encircled you, holding you close as if afraid you might disappear if he let go. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a sense of calm settle over you. It wasn’t the end of the struggle, but it was a beginning—a chance to rebuild, to find each other again, and to face whatever memories surfaced together.

The dingy hotel room smelled of stale cigarettes and spilled alcohol as you walked in. It was clear Logan had been living like this for a while, drifting from town to town, drinking away his misery.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, the springs creaking beneath you, as Logan shut the door behind him. The atmosphere felt heavy, laden with the weight of what had happened earlier at the bar. It was strange to be here, in this small, dark room, after everything that had transpired between you.

“So, how does this work?” Logan eventually asked, his voice gruff as he leaned against the wall. Despite agreeing to this, he kept a noticeable distance between you, as if unsure of what might happen next.

You sighed, rubbing your forehead, trying to collect your thoughts. This wasn’t easy for either of you, but it had to be done. “I just need to have direct contact with you,” you explained, your voice calm and steady despite the uncertainty you felt. “I can go through your memories and hopefully bring them forward for you to see.”

Logan nodded, but his eyes were distant. “In the bathroom—” His voice trailed off momentarily, making your heart race. “Did you… look inside my mind?”

“I did, but look, I’m sorry,” you quickly responded, your voice trembling as you took a step closer to him. “I just wanted to know if you were still—” Tears welled up in your eyes as the words caught in your throat. “I needed to know you were still my Logan. I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t desperate.”

Logan shook his head, walking past you over to the bed. “You can’t do that shit to people,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, avoiding your gaze as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you replied, wiping at your tears, trying to hold back the flood of emotions. “I was desperate. I’ve been looking for you for over a year, and—”

“What?” Logan spat, his eyes finally darting to meet yours, the intensity of his gaze startling you.

You went silent, feeling the anger bubbling up inside him, the tension in the room thickening. His posture tensed, his fists clenching as he tried to rein in his emotions.  

You stood there, his gaze heavy on your shoulders, as the silence stretched between you. Logan’s chest heaved with restrained anger, his eyes burning with a mixture of betrayal and hurt that cut through you like a knife.

“You’ve been looking for me for over a year?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous, the words laced with disbelief. “Why didn’t you think to tell me that before? Instead, you just… violated my mind without asking?”

His words stung, each one landing with the force of a physical blow. You wanted to reach out, to soothe the pain you saw in his eyes, but you knew he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

“I didn’t want to lie to you,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared and it wasn’t like I could just dump all this information on you hoping it would jog your memory. I thought I lost you forever, so when I finally found you…I didn’t know what else to do. I just needed to know if there was any part of you that remembered us, remembered me.”

Logan ran a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in his every movement. He looked away from you, his jaw clenched tight. “I get that you were scared. I do. But that doesn’t make it right,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, knowing that you had crossed a line, even if your intentions had been pure.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your throat tightening with the weight of your regret. “I should have asked. I should have trusted that you’d come back to me on your own.”

Logan finally looked back at you, his expression softening just a fraction. There was still anger in his eyes, but there was something else there too—confusion, maybe even a trace of understanding. “I’m not good at this… at letting people in,” he said, his voice gruff but laced with vulnerability. 

“I know,” you said, taking a cautious step closer. “Trust me. I know because you didn’t let me in right away. It took time but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to help you through this. If you need space, I’ll give it to you. If you need time, I’ll wait. Just… please don’t shut me out.”

Logan stared at you for a long moment, his emotions warring within him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle to reconcile his anger with the love he still felt for you. His breath came out in a shaky exhale, and he finally nodded, though his expression remained guarded. 

“Something tells me I don’t want to lose you.” 

“You won’t,” you assured him, your voice firm with conviction. “We’ll get through this, Logan. One step at a time.”

He nodded again, his shoulders sagging slightly as some of the tension left his body. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But no more going into my head without asking. I need to be able to trust you.”

“You have my word,” you promised, taking another step closer until you were standing right in front of him.

Logan searched your eyes as if looking for any sign of doubt, any hint that you might betray him again. But when he found none, he let out a heavy sigh, his expression softening as he finally allowed himself to relax.

“Alright,” he said quietly, his voice still tinged with uncertainty but also with a glimmer of hope. “Let’s try again… together.”

You smiled, the tension in the room finally easing as you reached out to take his hand. He hesitated for just a moment before lacing his fingers with yours, the contact a small but significant step toward healing the rift between you.

“Are you ready?” you asked gently, searching his eyes for any last-minute hesitation.

Logan gave a curt nod, but the tension in his grip told you all you needed to know—this was as ready as he was going to be.

You took a deep breath, centering yourself before focusing on the connection between you. Slowly, you let your power flow through you, using the contact to delve into Logan’s mind, searching through the tangled web of memories that had been locked away.

“I’ll try to go slow but sometimes the mind is an unpredictable place.” You said in a soothing voice. 

At first, it was chaotic—flashes of scenes, emotions, and images that didn’t quite make sense. But as you guided your power deeper, you began to find the threads that mattered, the memories that had shaped who Logan was before he became lost.

His breath hitched as a particularly painful memory emerged—a moment of betrayal, the image of Stryker’s cold eyes flashing in his mind. You squeezed his hand, grounding him, reminding him that you were there, that he wasn’t alone.

And then, slowly, the fog began to lift. Logan’s grip on your hand tightened as more memories surfaced, clearer this time. Moments of his past life, of battles fought and bonds formed. And then, there were glimpses of you, moments that had once brought him solace and peace.

You felt his body start to relax, the tension easing as the memories became more familiar, more real. His breathing slowed, his eyes focusing as he began to piece together the fragments of who he once was.

When you finally pulled back, the connection severing, Logan let out a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. There was a new clarity in his gaze, a recognition that hadn’t been there before.

“How do you feel?” you asked, your voice filled with hope. 

Logan stared at you for a moment, his expression a mix of relief and lingering uncertainty. “I remembered... some things but it’s still a mess in my head.”

“That’s okay,” you said, squeezing his hand gently. “It’ll take time. We’ll keep working at it if you want to.” 

For the first time since you’d entered the room, Logan’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Yeah. I saw those moments of me…with you. I can see why you are fighting so hard.” he murmured, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable.

You returned his smile, feeling a sense of hope that hadn’t been there before. It was a start—a fragile, tentative start, but a start nonetheless. 

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

Five years had passed since that night in the bar. The road had been long and difficult, but together, you and Logan had faced every challenge, every memory, every fear. Piece by piece, memory by memory, you helped him reclaim his past, using your powers to bring back what had been taken from him while soothing the pain that came with it.

Sometimes, you blinked forgetting so much time had passed. The two of you have built a life far away from the chaos that once defined both of your existence. 

Nestled in the serene wilderness in the middle of nowhere you had found a home—a place where the past was put to rest and the future was whatever you wanted it to be. 

What surprised you most was how Logan had found peace in this quiet life and had blossomed into the role of a loving husband and father. 

The sound of laughter filled the warm, sunlit kitchen as Logan chased your daughter around the table pretending to be a tickle monster. At four years old, your little girl was a whirlwind of energy and curiosity. You chuckled as her little feet pattered across the wooden floor trying to escape Logan’s playful clutches. 

“Gotcha, kiddo!” Logan said, his deep voice filled with joy as he peppered her face with kisses. Your daughter giggled uncontrollably, her tiny hands gripping his shirt as she wriggled in his arms.

“No!” she shrieked through her laughter, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “Not the tickles!”

Logan grinned, the sight of his daughter’s pure delight warming his heart. He finally relented, setting her down on the ground and ruffling her hair. “Alright, alright, you win this time,” he said, his tone mock-serious.

She beamed up at him, her wide grin showing off the tiny gap where one of her baby teeth had recently fallen out. “I always win!” she declared, her voice filled with the confidence only a four-year-old could muster.

You watched from the kitchen counter, your heart swelling with love as you took in the scene. It was moments like these that made everything worth it—the struggles, the pain, the journey you had both endured to get here. You placed a hand on your slightly rounded belly, feeling the gentle flutter of the new life growing inside you. The little one would be arriving in a few months, and the thought filled you with both excitement and a hint of nervousness.

“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” you teased, smiling as Logan walked over to you, your daughter still clinging to his leg.

Logan shrugged, giving you a sheepish grin. “What can I say? She’s tough to resist,” he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips before placing a gentle hand on your belly. “How’s our little one doing today?”

“She’s been kicking up a storm,” you replied, your smile widening as you felt a little nudge against your hand. “I think she’s excited to meet you.” 

Logan’s eyes softened, his gaze full of love and contentment. “I can’t wait to meet her too,” he said, his voice full of wonder.

You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over the faint lines that time and life had etched into his face. “I love you,” you said softly.

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment as if savoring the simple, peaceful life you’d built together. When he opened them again, the love you saw there was so deep, so powerful, that it took your breath away.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you and our girls more than anything in this world.”

“We love you too,” you replied, your heart full as you leaned in for another kiss, this one slower, more tender.

Your daughter, never one to be left out, tugged on Logan’s pant leg, demanding attention. “Play with me again!”

Logan chuckled, pulling back slightly from the kiss to glance down at his eager daughter. “Alright, alright. What do you want to play this time, kiddo?”

“Hide and seek!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Hide and seek it is,” Logan agreed, lifting her again and spinning her around before setting her down. “But you better hide good, ‘cause I’m the best seeker in all of Canada!”

“Dinner’s almost done, so don’t play too long,” you called as your daughter dashed off to find the perfect hiding spot.

You watched Logan, your heart brimming with love and gratitude. This life, this family—this was everything you had ever wanted. And knowing that Logan had found happiness here, with you and your daughters, made it all the more precious.

With a deep sense of peace, you turned your attention back to preparing dinner, listening to the sound of your husband and daughter’s laughter filling the house. It was a sound you’d never grow tired of, a reminder of just how far you’d come and how much you’d overcome together.

[ettawritesnstudies]

Etta's Guide to Writeblr (March 2023)

So you fled here from Twitter/TikTok... Where to start?

Welcome to Writeblr! Pull up a chair, open those documents, and pour yourself a cup of your favorite tea, coffee, or cocoa. The first thing you'll want to do is start following other writers. Check out this post for recommendations! Search through the notes to find hundreds more. Since I made that post, a bunch of people mentioned they're lurking and still trying to figure out tumblr, so I thought I'd make this post to help people get settled.

How to set up your blog

Make your blog name something not resembling a pornbot - it can be whatever you want, anything fun goes, just not [name###]. If you include "writer" or "author" somewhere in the url it makes it easier to spot writeblrs at a glance but it's not a requirement

Change your profile to something that's not the default, Make sure you have a blog title, and add a little description in your blog header if you feel like it!

Make a pinned post introducing yourself (pls don't use your real name or any IDing information for privacy's sake, this isn't facebook), a short summary of your WIPs, and links if you have an author's website/newsletter/ao3/etc. You can check my pinned post for an example

Make intro posts for each WIP! You can spruce these up with graphics (canva and unsplash are both great free resources to make edits/moodboards), excerpts, lists of tropes, character intros, etc. Link to the WIP intro in your pinned post so it's easy to find! You can update these as often as needed

If you want to make character intros, go wild. If you can't draw, piccrew is a great option. Just start talking about your WIP!

Come up with a tagging system to keep your blog organized. I recommend individual wip tags or at least one for your original writing in general so it's easy to search for your work on your blog

Keep track of Taglists for your WIPs. Whenever you post a new thing about your story, tag the people who asked to be notified to make sure they see it! Only tag people who ask to join the taglist, but it's a good way to keep track of interest. It's normal to have multiple taglists for each story+ one general writing taglist.

How to make writer friends

Reblog their work and add nice comments, either in the tags, comments, or the reblog itself People notice regulars in their notes and appreciate the attention. I promise it's not weird to compliment a total stranger

If that's too intimidating, community events are your friend!

Weekly Ask Games: These are weekly events that are loosely themed where writers send each other asks about their WIPs! The most common are Storyteller Saturday (about the writing process), Blorbsday (aka Blorbo Thursday about characters), and Worldbuilding Wednesday (about the setting of your story). If you answer these late, nobody really cares, but it's a fun way to receive prompts and learn more about other people's stories.

Ask Games/Memes: These are posts with lists of questions you can reblog from other people, sometimes themed or listed with emojis. It's common courtesy to send an ask from the list to the person you reblog it from, then people can send you questions as well, so you can talk about your stories! You can search for dozens of them

Tag games: There's a ton of different types of tag games, but basically someone @s you with a challenge/question, you reblog with your answer, and then @ a bunch of other people to continue the chain. Some common ones are Heads Up 7s Up (share the last 7 lines of your WIP), Last Line Tag (share the last line you wrote), and Find the Words (ctrl+f the given words in your doc and share the results, then give new words).

Formal events: These are community wide participation challenges organized by certain blogs! @writeblrsummerfest is every July?? August? I think? It's run by @abalonetea a few years strong, and there are daily prompts and ask games! @inklings-challenge is a month-long short story entry for Christian writeblrs. I think there was a valentines event in February. @moon-and-seraph is hosting a pitch week soon! Since these are more organized, it's very easy to find similar blogs and support!

Misc. Notes on using Tumblr

Follow the tags #writeblr and #writeblr community to find other writers, as well as other tags that interest you like #fantasy for example

If you want to bookmark a post to read later, you can like it and/or save it to your drafts

The queue/schedule function is very useful if you want to space out posts or have a backlog to keep your blog running when you get busy. This is good for the community because it gives older posts a chance to be rediscovered! You can change the posting frequency in the settings.

REBLOG YOUR OWN STUFF. People aren't always on at the same times and so it's the best way to account for people with different schedules and timezones. If you're worried about being annoying, you can tag those #self reblog or something similar and other people can filter the tag, but otherwise it's a welcomed and accepted practice.

If your excerpt is pretty long, put it under a cut. On desktop you can do this by selecting the squiggly button on the far right when you make a new paragraph, on mobile type :readmore: then hit enter.

It's polite to add descriptions to images and videos for visually or auditory impaired people. If you don't know how to write descriptions, here's a good resource

In your dashboard settings, it's best to shut off the options "Best Stuff First" and "Based on your Likes". These function as the website algorithm and suppresses the blogs you actually follow, which defeats the purpose of the site, letting the dash be in reverse chronological order. Also turn off Tumblr Live because it's malware as far as anyone's concerned.

Curate your experience, block the trolls, and be nice

Update for March 2024

How to shut off AI Scraping on your blog

Go to settings and find the Visibility tab

Scroll down to the tag that says "Prevent Third-Party Sharing"

Turn that knob over so that Automattic can't steal your work for their language training model databases >_<

The other settings will just hide your blog from search engines so they're useful for hiding from nosy parents or other Tumblr users but if you're trying to build an author platform you can leave them off.

Again, welcome to the community! I hope you have a ton of fun!

[hexeddocs]

[ 9 ] . noir... 𝑫𝑶𝑾𝑵𝑳𝑶𝑨𝑫 𝑵𝑶𝑾!

Finally -- a new template, after months of being away! I wanted to say thank you so much for your patience and for the love that I've received while away. I truly have the best supporters, and I wouldn't be here without you guys.

NOIR is a sci-fiesque template that is perfect for those who love to write a lot about their character. With multiple sections to add your own unique descriptions, it showcases all aspects of your character, making it perfect for the perfect all-inclusive template!

While I originally tried to stick to a more medical-interface type of template, it sort of deviated to its own thing -- sort of computer-file like -- but I'm still very happy with it. It took many weeks to finish, but the end result was worth it!

How to edit

To edit the pictures, right click on the image and select "replace image." DO NOT COPY AND PASTE PICTURES INTO THE DOC. This will cause elements to shift and the design to break.

DO NOT REMOVE CREDIT.

Feel free to change whatever aspect you'd like, just PLEASE keep the credit!

This doc contains drawing elements. To edit, simply double click on the image and the menu will pop up -- allowing you to edit the colour, font, anything you wish!

The picture on the first page is behind the text. To click and select it, right click over top of it and click "select picture," and then move it in front of the text. From there, follow the directions on how to change the picture. Just make sure to put it back to "behind text" after all is said and done!

If you plan to change the background colour, just beware that the EKG gifts are not pngs, so you may have to tinker a little bit with it.

The thing I really like about this template is that for the statistics drawings, you can change the inner most part of the circle to show a sort of "percentage." To edit this, double click on the image and then click the middle portion of the circle. From there, you can slide it to make it smaller or bigger to your preference!

As always, likes and reblogs are MUCH appreciated. I hope that you enjoy this template as much as I enjoyed making it!

Many thanks,

Kira <3

Inspiration: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/298785756542843881/

[eddiesguitarskills]

It can’t all be bullshit Part 2

Read part 1 here

Eddie Munson x fem Reader x Steve Harrington (unfortunately no Steddie in this)

Summary: pinning after your best friend can be hard, especially when he doesn’t like you back. You were trying to get over a crush the last thing you needed was another.

AN: this is all I've written for the story, so I won't be as fast updating. Also, I'm sorry I write a lot for female-presenting readers it's just I find it easier to write it like that, especially with my dyslexia. However, if you guys want I can start reuploading the story with non-gender descriptions just might take it longer to edit it.

Warnings: Angst, use of Y/n, mention of break ups, miscommunication, sexual themes but no smut readers discretion is advised. Drug and alcohol use, and swearing.

word count 3.7kish

Monday morning came around quickly, which you were glad about. The sooner you could get away from that awful weekend, the better. Eddie hadn’t remembered anything from that night, or if he did, he didn't mention it. You were also glad that you didn’t want another argument, and you definitely didn’t want details on his love life. Not that you hadn’t thought about it, your brain was too cruel to not make you dwell on it, you also thought about Harrington was he okay? Not that you cared about him of course just one human looking out for another. If you happen to be looking around to see if he made it to school that would be out of curiosity not because you cared. Thankfully his locker was near to yours so you would eventually see how he was, to be honest with how the gossip spreads in this school you would hear about it eventually if the king and queen of Hawkins really had broken up. 

I don't hear anything about it until a week later at lunch. You were a little late as you had been stuck talking to your English teacher, Miss Plant, and you felt too rude to leave despite the rumbling in your stomach. As soon as you got to the table, a conversation began. “Do you reckon his head hurt?” Eddie joked. “Whose head?” you said while sitting in your seat beside Eddie. “The king when he fell from his throne”. You were beyond confused. Were they talking about a new campaign? You couldn't remember a king in your current D&D campaign. Maybe you had been too busy dazing at your leader at the meetings to notice if there was a new character. You didn't want to feel stupid, so you nodded like you understood. It wasn't until the conversation continued and you heard the mention of Nancy Wheeler you understood. You knew Eddie and Steve didn't like each other, but some of his words seemed too harsh. You saw what Harringtons' wrath could be like, and you didn't want Eddie on the receiving end. You picked at your peas, not daring to look up, and you knew how they would all tease you about nagging again. “Maybe we shouldn't talk about this”. Eddie raised his eyebrow, stopping his rant. “Why are you scared?” he challenged. You shrugged back.

Everyone was surprised. You hadn't nagged, you hadn't come back at him, you had stayed remarkably calm. Eddie wanted to see how long it would take you to snap, but he didn't have a chance when Chris, taking the hint, changed the subject. “So when’s the date, Eddie?” Not realising this would be the thing to make you snap. Since when did he have a date? Indeed it wasn't with what's her face from the party? You thought he didn't remember anything from that party, and if he did, why hadn't he apologised to you yet? “Well, she wanted to come over on Thursday, but I don't know” he looked at you to gauge a reaction; that was your weekly bowling night. Don't shout. It's okay. It's only the night you look forward to most, and you don't have much to look forward to. It doesn't matter. Well, maybe it does, but not to him anymore. “Have fun” you say standing to leave the table, dumping the food on your tray. Any hunger you had felt had gone and was replaced with nausea.

You needed somewhere to hide because you weren’t going to the next period. You needed someone to cry or scream or both. So you disappeared to Eddie’s spot in the woods. You hold onto yourself for warmth, looking down, trying to be careful not to trip on the twigs hidden in the mud. You finally make it to the table without an accident when you see out of the corner of your eye a guy. You pray it's not Eddie or someone here for a deal. It was the last thing you needed. You weren't sure if you would keep your cool this time round, especially with the stupid tears that kept lining your eyes.

“I didn't think anyone else would be here”, he spoke. It wasn't Eddie, but it was someone you also didn't want to bump into. You hoped after that night you would never have to come face to face with Harrington again. “Sorry, I can go,”you say, hoping to make a swift exit. “No, it's fine, I don't own the woods”.

There is an awkward silence. You debated getting up to leave, but you were stuck there frozen. “Looks like I’m not the only one having a shit day.” You don’t dare look up. Yeah, you were having a bad day, but it didn’t feel right to compare it to a breakup. “Mine nothing compare to yours”. You look up quickly. You didn’t mean it to sound that way. “No, I meant I’m fine. I’m sorry about what happened”. God, did you sound as dumb as you thought? “So I guess everyone knows now”. You shake your head “just because I know doesn’t mean everyone knows”.

He weakly chuckles, but there is no humour behind it: “It kind of does. It’s made its way down to the bottom of the food chain”. Steve’s eyes widened. Shit, he didn’t mean to sound like that. “No offence”. He couldn’t help being how he was. Having to put up an act for so long makes it hard to realise when he was being a dick. “None taken”. You shrug. You were used to the name-calling by jocks, so his words felt like nothing. “So what happened to you?” You twiddle with the ring Eddie gave you on a chain. “Don’t worry about me”. Steve smiles. “It’d be nice to worry about something else for a change. So is it a guy?” You laugh at him. “Do you think all girl's problems revolve around a guy?”. He nods.” Well, that is very guy-like of you, but yeah, you’re right. This time, it’s a guy.” Steve’s face lights up with a smirk. “I knew it! So what happened.” You go to speak but look up, realising it is not a friend you are talking to. It’s a popular kid. Even worse than that, it’s the king of Hawkins high. “Just typical guy stuff.”

Steve took the hint you didn’t want to get into it, so they changed the subject. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but Can you not tell anyone I was here? If Principal Coleman finds out I cut, I’m dead” You almost wanted to laugh; the Principal would find out, but looking at his face, you knew he was deadly serious. “who would I tell?” He shook his shoulders. “I don’t know”. You smiled. “Exactly. I’m gonna have to start charging you for all the secrets I keep”. He looked utterly lost. “Huh?”

Eddie sauntered over, his metal lunch box in hand. He could only see Harrington and the back of a girl’s head. So he didn’t know who it was. “My spots are popular today. I’ve even got King Steve, and I assume his new plaything here.” You turn around to face him. Now was not the time for his antics. “Leave it, Eddie” you sneered. The boy’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Absolutely not” he grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the woods away from Steve.

After many tries, you finally got out of Eddie’s grasp. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”. The boy rolled his eyes, “saving you”. You repeated his facial expression, “I didn’t need saving”. He tutted and slung his arm around you. “You were about to be Harrington’s next prey; trust me, you needed saving.” You pushed him off. “We were just talking”. Eddie looked at you like he was telling off a child, not a friend and definitely not someone he fancied “That’s how it starts”. You hated that he treated you like you didn’t know how the world worked. “I don’t see why you care”. He shook his head. “I’m your best friend, of course I care”. There it was, the famous last words of any crush. You were officially friend-zoned, and you would never get out of that. You felt deflated, so you just nodded and followed him to his van and then trailer.

A month later you were going to another party this time it was your idea. Getting over this crush had been more challenging than you had planned, so you decided to do something the opposite of what you usually would. Tonight, you would act like all the other teenagers and drink till you forget. Or find someone to help you forget. When you told Eddie you were going, he insisted he took you despite your protests. How are you supposed to get over someone when he doesn't leave you alone? You had bought an outfit for tonight because your usual outfit of jeans and a tee didn’t feel fitting. So you bought a red tight spaghetti strap dress, you thought about wearing heels you put them on, but as soon as you wobbly stood up like Bambi on ice, you realised it wasn't the best idea, so you put on your black trusty Converse. It's nice to have familiarity and not feel like Bambi on ice when trying to catch someone up. You hear several impatient beeps outside; you would think you had made him wait for hours when he had only just arrived 30 minutes late, of course. Life is always on Eddie’s schedule. You just wanted to get to the party and out of his sight, so you grabbed your bag put on a layer of lipgloss and ran outside to Eddie’s van.

He had the window down. He looked at your outfit and shook his head. “You’re gonna freeze”. You were sick of his new habit of babying you; was this what you sounded like to him? Was this just him mocking you? The girl from the last party poked her head out. “I think you look hot. I’m Sasha (sorry if this is your name she is nice though) by the way”. You nod. “Y/n”, he brought her, of course he brought her. She was nice. Why did she have to be nice? It's easier to dislike someone when they are a bitch, not a beautiful soul like hers. You were even more jealous now you wish you could be more like her than you. You got into the back of the van as Eddie drove (over the speed limit) to the party. Sasha was super friendly along the way and kept asking you questions to get to know Eddie’s best friend more. The boy stayed quiet, in thought. He was struggling to keep his eyes on the road as he kept looking at you through the rearview mirror in disbelief. 

When you finally got to the party, you found your way to the punch bowl, the pair not leaving your side. You picked up a red cup, filling it with the content of the bowl, whenever that may be. Before you could even put it to your lips. Eddie took the cup from your hands, pouring it back into the bowl, Tutting at you. “Are you okay tonight? You’re acting weird”. God, you were sick of his stupid face and stupid comments, but then it struck you this was your way out from the couple, from him. “You know I’m feeling a little weird. I’m gonna go to the toilet… it’s probably because of my period”. It was a lie, but you knew it would stop him from following you.

You went up the stairs and poked your head into a room, hoping it would be the bathroom. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t; Steve Harrington sat on a bed, his leg tapping anxiously and anxiously. why did you two seem to have a universal magnet. “Sorry”. He looked up at you. You went to leave but were stopped by his voice calling, “Wait, you’re the girl who ditched me”.

“The girl?” You repeated him. “I have a name. It’s y/n, and I wouldn’t exactly call it ditched.” He laughed, getting up and shutting the door behind you. “What would you call it? I know it’s not your fault, though, was your boyfriend jealous?”. You glare at the thought, “he’s not my boyfriend”. He laughs. “Does he know that?” You turn to leave. “I’m not in the mood for whatever this is”. He holds your hand not too tightly, so if you want to go, you can, bringing you to the bed to sit down. You are stocked by yourself that you don't push him away, but the gentleness of this action makes your heart flutter. Maybe Steve Harrington could help you forget. “So he’s the one that made you cry”. Maybe not. You put your hands on your face, embarrassed “Is it that obvious?”. He pulls your hands away from your face, shaking his head. “He’s an idiot if he doesn’t see how beautiful you are”. You want to smile at his words, but they make you cringe. “Is this how you get all the girls?” He sighs. God, he had just been broken up with; maybe it was too soon to mention girls. “I’m sor-“ he puts a finger to your lip. “You apologise far too much”. You nod. “I just don’t want you to bite my head off again”, you mumble, fiddling with the end of your dress.

“When did I do that?” He had no clue what you were talking about, so why did you even mention it? “It doesn’t matter” you keep your eyes down. He uses his hand to lift your chin so you’re looking at him. “When did I do that?” He says as genuinely as he can. He was trying to be better, a more likeable guy, and if he wanted to do that, he needed to right his wrongs. “It wasn’t your fault; it probably just seems worse in my head because I wasn’t enjoying myself…and Eddie was being a dick and-“ he puts his hand on yours to calm you. “It was Halloween; I think you and Nancy had just had an argument. I guess you needed someone to take your rage out on, and I just happened to be there”. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. Annoyed at himself, he couldn’t look at you. “It’s fine; I swear it wasn’t that bad. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here. You just told me to fuck off and said bullshit a lot”. He looks over at you. “So you know what happened with Nancy?” you nodded “I got the gist”. He nudged your shoulder with his “thanks for not telling anything”. You laugh. “As you said in the wood, I’m the bottom of the food chain. I've got no one to tell.”

He wanted to beat himself up; he had fallen so far into the idea of popularity that he became what he swore he would never be a dick. “You aren’t, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like that.” You squeeze his hand. “Don’t go soft on me. I'm quite content being there . It means I can fade into the background”. He holds both of your hands and looks you up and down until his eyes land on yours. “Someone like you isn’t meant to fade into the background”. You don’t know what comes over you; maybe it’s how nice he’s being, that you had never been called pretty by a boy, or how handsome he looked, but you lean in and kiss him. Maybe it’s because you recognise the broken mess hidden behind his eyes. You instantly realise what you’ve done. You couldn’t blame alcohol for this. You had still never drank. You’re about to pull away when Steve brings his hands to your hips and pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him. “Where” kiss. “Do you” another peck “think” another “you’re going?” You giggle into his mouth and further the kiss. Your hips were rolling against his, which was out of your control, not that you or Steve minded. You were so lost in the moment that you didn’t taste the beer on his lips until he put his tongue in your mouth. You tried to ignore it, but after a few moments, that’s all-consuming your brain: the metallic taste of it. 

Steve could tell you wasn’t really into it anymore, so he pulled away. He started to feel insecure. He hadn’t kissed a girl since Nancy had. Had he already lost his touch? “are you okay? Didn’t you like-“ you shake your head animatedly. The action makes your whole body shake against him, making him moan. God, he was super embarrassed now. He moved you off him before anything got more awkward, especially if you were to feel the semi he was sporting. Jesus, why were you so in your head about everything you had a way to forget, and you ruined it? “I really liked it” he refused to look at you, too self-conscious about the situation. He kept his eyes on the ceiling fan above him. “It’s fine, y/n”- you feel awkward, too, so you keep your eyes on the door in front of you. “I just get so in my head sometimes, and I don’t drink, so I tasted alcohol and- I don’t know” You got frustrated at yourself not being able to find words. You sounded like a complete idiot. No wonder Eddie didn’t want you. 

Steve looked at you and started laughing, even though he thought you were stupid. “Wait, so the Alcohol is cock blocking me?” He wasn’t laughing at you. You felt a relief wash over you. He was laughing at the situation. His laugh was so contagious and charming you don’t think you’ve ever heard it. Before you know it, you can’t help but laugh too. “What did you think you were a bad kisser or something?”. He hit your shoulder playfully. “Of course not” He joked. 

There were suddenly loud moans from the room next door. You both look in that direction and laugh again. You do a silly impression of the moan. Steve stops laughing and stares at you, surprised at how good you are at making that sound. She must have had a lot of practice faking it to be that good, he thought. The moaning next door suddenly got louder. You raised your eyebrow at him “wanna play a game?”. You don't know what had come over you, but something about him relaxed you. You didn't feel the anxiety you would feel around your friends, making sure they were safe. You just wanted to have fun. You hadn’t been like that in so long.

Free to just be yourself. He raised his eyebrows back. “I'm listening”. You moan again, louder this time. He didn't expect that. He wanted to laugh because it came from nowhere, but it turned him on. “Come on then”. (totally inspired by Easy A here) You whisper. He got the hint and moaned, too, not as loudly, though. You kept doing this back and forth, both getting more exaggerated and louder. It was hard not to laugh at how ridiculous you sounded. Next door suddenly got very quiet. “I think we won”, he nudged your arm. You burst out laughing. He had never noticed you before, but he was glad he had you tonight. He needed a laugh. He doesn't remember the last time he had actually had fun with worrying about the consequences.

There was a bang on the door. “Are you in there, y/n!?” you suddenly stop laughing and roll your eyes upon hearing your best friend’s voice. “Looks like your boyfriend’s jealous again”, Steve joked without thinking. But he then started to panic that maybe you weren’t friends yet. Was it his place to jok- you smack his arm. “Shut it, bullshit boy” you tease back. He would have hated hearing that from anyone else. But from you, he didn't mind. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it's because there was no malice in your voice. Perhaps it's because you had made his awful night better. His week is better. There is another bang on the door “y/n!” you glare at the door. Of course, he had to ruin your fun.

Wasn't it bad enough that he was breaking your heart? “I should go before he bursts a vein or something”. You get up to leave despite the voice in your head telling you to stay.  “Thank you for tonight. I really need it”. You kiss his cheek. He smiles, feeling his cheek getting warmer and his heart beating faster. No, he wasn’t ready; he couldn't let this happen like this. “ I'm trying to be better, so I don’t want to lead you on. I don’t want a girlfriend”. You shake your head, going to leave the room, and scoff, “In your dreams, bullshit boy”. He shouts after you, hoping you can hear, “I'm not sure about this new nickname”. 

Outside the door, Eddie has his hands on his hips like a parent. “Were you just in there with Harrington?” he says the name like it’s venom. “Yeah, so” just because he was your best friend, he had no right to tell you who to hang out with. You used to think his protective side was endearing, but now it was annoying. You couldn’t say anything about who he hung out with, so he can’t say anything about who you choose to spend time with. Well, that’s what you thought, but Eddie had other ideas, “are you trying to kill me?” He asks like it’s a serious thing that could happen. “Oh yeah, top of my to-do list” There you were, the person Eddie loved, the one with a comeback for everything, but now wasn’t the time for him to bask in your teasing contest that he lived for. No, when there was only a door between you and Harrington, that was too close for comfort for Eddie. He wasn't sure what the new relationship between you and the ‘king’ was, but he didn't like it one bit. 

Taglist : @yourdailymemedelivery @kitkat80 @mewchiili @xprloki

@daisy-munson @exploding-bonbon

(if you wanna be added to the tag list let me know)

Masterlist link here if you are interested.

[teoceearts]

teoceearts' $30 (USD) Summer Fakemon Flash Sale

Until Saturday, August 31st, 11:59PM MST, I'm offering fakemon commissions! If you have a little guy you'd like someone else to draw, I'm willing to be that someone else. Work is light at the moment and I unfortunately require money to pay for things that I need in order to live.

Some examples below!

DM here or email at teoceearts@gmail.com to discuss commission details and payment information. Credit teocee94/teoceearts when reposting your finished piece to other platforms.

Rules below the cut:

Price is non-negotiable per 'mon, and pays for a transparent, full-color, unshaded image file featuring both the standard and shiny variants that you as the commissioner can use and edit non-commercially as you see fit, including as a visual reference with which to commission other artists. This image file will be formatted similarly to the Mokira splash sheet above, but as a transparent image.

Each additional evolutionary stage, alternative form, or pose included in the commission will cost an additional $30. - Gender differences will be either free or an additional $10 pending distinction and complexity; Pikachu, Bidoof, or Sneasel would be free of charge, while Unfeazant, Meowstic, or Indeedee would cost extra.

I am not offering new or revamped forms of existing, official Pokemon, including convergent/regional fan-designs or special forms like Megas! The design must be unofficial; either your own original work or that of another artist not affiliated with GameFreak, Nintendo, or The Pokemon Company and their design teams. If the design is not your own, credit the original designer so that I may tag them and/or link to their original design in the description.

Some kind of visual reference and a loose lore rundown of your concept are required. If all you have is a crumpled notebook-paper stick-figure sketch and a slapdash Dex entry, I'll work with it. I am willing to redraw AI-generated fakemon if you have no other visual reference of any kind, but I ask that you do not prompt new generations specifically for your commission.

I am not helping conceptualize new fakemon whole-cloth, which is beyond the scope of this offer. I reserve the right to creative liberties in interpreting your design. However, all proposed changes will be discussed with the commissioner before finalizing the piece.

You are not permitted to profit off of my artwork, edited or otherwise, without my explicit consent. This includes AI seeding. Do not feed my work into an algorithmic generative machine. Do not produce stickers, pins, or other merchandise of my work for the purpose of sale. Production for personal use is a different story which we can discuss, and licensing for sale is beyond the scope of this particular offer.

[horanghaejamjam]

Too Late To Apologize - {JWW}

↪  Summary: They say you don't know what you have until you've lost it. Unfortunately, Wonwoo has to learn this the hard way.

↪   Pairings: Wonwoo x Female Reader

↪   Rating: PG

↪   Genre: Angst / Slight Fluff

↪   Word Count: 5.1k

↪ Warnings/Contents: Unresolved fight, Description of car crash and aftermath. Not too detailed but please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.

↪ Side Notes: A little something for y'all while I finish editing Horanghae! This was a past commission for a lovely anon. Thank you to them for their support and request for this story. My commissions are open and you can find more info in my pinned post if you are interested in getting your own!

↪ Click here to see my other Seventeen stories

↪ Click here for other kpop masterlists

↪ Click here to join my fic taglist

The kitchen was eerily quiet, so quiet that the only sounds you could make out were that of the dishwasher draining and your own foot tapping impatiently against the tiled floor. Every thirty seconds or so you would glance down to check the time on your phone, wishing that the dreaded clock would freeze or turn back in time. It was 11:45 pm, fifteen minutes away from midnight. Even worse, it had been almost three hours since your fiance said he would be home. The nice dinner you had made for the both of you had gone cold a long time ago, yours half eaten while his plate was perfectly untouched. You wanted to get up and throw everything out, but your emotions were keeping you trapped in your seat.

You didn’t want to be mad at Wonwoo, you knew that he worked hard and being kept late wasn’t his fault, but it was hard to contain the anger boiling inside you with every passing minute. You had practically begged him to be home by nine, saying that you wanted to make a special dinner and have a nice night with just the two of you. The two of you hadn’t been able to spend time together since he was on tour, and the second he got back he threw himself into working on their next album. You tried to support him, making sure the house was clean, all the chores were done, and even making sure to make him lunch every morning before work because you knew he wouldn’t remember to do it himself. You even did most of the wedding planning since Wonwoo had been too busy to attend any of the meetings. Even when he could, he always seemed indifferent or uninterested and left all the final decisions up to you which added even more pressure. All of this on top of working your full time job so he wouldn't be the sole breadwinner in the relationship. It felt like you did everything for him and yet he couldn’t even dedicate a few hours of his time to you. One night, that was literally all you asked for. One night where the two of you could sit down, have dinner, and actually act like a couple who's getting married in a few months. You really didn’t feel like you were asking for much, and the more you thought about it, the harder it got to hide how hurt you were. Part of you was starting to think that Wonwoo didn’t care, that he would rather be married to his job than you.

Taking a deep breath, you finally forced yourself to stand up from your spot at the table, accepting that he wasn’t coming home. You scraped the remainder of your dinner into the trash and wrapped up Wonwoo's so that he could heat it up whenever he decided to come home. As you were clearing the table and getting ready to finish the dishes, you heard your door unlock. Your whole body tensed as your fiance walked through the door, taking his time to put his stuff away and take off his shoes before finally meeting you in the kitchen.

“Hi, I didn’t think you would still be awake,” he said, walking past you to grab a glass from the cupboard. You tensed up and kept your gaze on the table, refusing to look up at him. Had he really forgotten your plans for the evening, or did he just not care? If Wonwoo noticed the change in your attitude, he didn’t mention it as he focused on getting his glass of water. “How was work?” he asked after a moment of silence, making you bite your lip to keep from snapping.

“Fine,” you muttered blankly, still not looking at him, “yours?”

“Busy,” he replied with a hum, “we’re trying to finish recording for the new album but there’s been a few hiccups, so we had to redo a lot of it.” You supposed that explained why he was late, but it still didn’t forgive the fact that he came home three hours after he was supposed to without even letting you know. Apparently Wonwoo had continued talking and you hadn’t heard it, as you suddenly felt him right behind you and his hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What?” you muttered.

“You’ve been tense since I walked in here, I know somethings wrong so what is it?” You didn’t know whether you wanted to laugh or cry at his question. It seemed he really had forgotten what you two had planned, and that hurt way more than you were willing to admit.

“What time is it Wonwoo?” you asked, clearly catching him off guard.

“Just past midnight, why?” you took a deep breath to compose yourself before answering.

“What time were you supposed to be home?” He was silent for a moment before finally realizing what you were talking about.

“Oh right, I’m sorry about missing dinner but I couldn’t just leave the guys, you understand right?”

“Yeah I guess,” you muttered under your breath, moving away from him to walk into the living room. You really didn’t want to argue with him, not right now, but it seemed that outcome was unavoidable.

“Come on Y/N don’t do this, you know that my work is important. We can just have dinner another night,” Wonwoo said as he followed after you.

“I know your work is important but this was important to me! We haven’t spent time together in months and I ask for one night, a few hours, and you’re still too busy for that!” you whined.

“I already said I’m sorry I don’t know what else you want from me!” Wonwoo exclaimed, his tone getting sharper which didn’t help your emotions at all. You were trying to stay composed but every second that passed you could feel tears burning your eyes and your resolve slipping.

“I don’t want an apology Wonwoo I just want to be able to spend time with my fiance, is that too much to ask?”

“You act like we never see each other and you and I both know that isn’t true,” he argued, “I’m busy, okay? Not only am I working to be able to support us but I also have the guys and the fans who need my support as well, I can’t just abandon them because you want my attention.”

“I’m not saying I want you to abandon them!” you exclaimed, getting more frustrated now, “I know how demanding your job is and I have done nothing but try to love and support you despite being busy myself. You’re not the only one who works full time you know! Despite that I still make time to check up on you and take care of you, but when I ask for one night you can’t even put aside that time for me.”

“I’m not feeling very supported right now,” Wonwoo stated. There was no change in his tone or anything to show malice, but those words hurt worse than anything else he could have said. Maybe it was because you were exhausted and already emotional, or maybe it was because it seemed like that’s what he honestly thought, either way though, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Oh really?” you snapped, marching back over to him so there was only a few inches between you both, “tell me then Wonwoo, who wakes up early every morning to make you lunch before going to work? Who left work early to bring you and the boys food because you didn’t get a break from practice? Who stayed up with you until sunrise helping you practice your rap to make sure it sounds good? Who does all of the chores around here and all of the wedding planning despite being busy with everything else so that the only thing you need to worry about is work? Most importantly, who took the time from their schedule since day one to come to as many concerts and promotions as possible to cheer you on because I know how much this means to you? I do all of this to make sure you are supported and what have you done for us recently, absolutely nothing!” By the time your rant was over you were bent over trying to catch your breath, Wonwoo just stared at you with his arms crossed, clearly unamused. 

“Are you happy now?” he asked, shaking his head when you didn’t answer, “I have an early day tomorrow, I’m going to stay at the dorms tonight. We’ll talk about this later.” With that he was grabbing his things and throwing his shoes back on before leaving the apartment without another word. You could only stare at the door in shock, finally letting the argument sink in as you slowly broke down crying. He really left you for the guys, just like that? Did he really not care about you or your relationship? The more you thought about it, the harder it was to stop yourself from crying. This wasn’t your first argument with Wonwoo, and you knew it probably wouldn’t be your last, but this was the first time one of you had ever walked out during an argument. You took a few deep breaths and wiped at your eyes desperately to stop the tears, staring at the door for a bit longer to see if Wonwoo would change his mind and come back. When he didn’t, you accepted defeat and slowly dragged yourself to your shared bedroom.

Almost as if you were on autopilot, you turned your phone off and plugged it in before showering and dragging yourself into bed. You were used to falling asleep without him there, but tonight the bed felt even more empty than usual. You found yourself grabbing his pillow and curling up around it, enjoying his scent and imagining that he was there with you as you slowly drifted off. Hopefully, when you woke up this would all be like a bad dream and he would be there, or at least be willing to talk to you about it. 

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

To say you were hurt when you woke up alone was an understatement. Your head was pounding from crying the night before and all the negative emotions came slamming into you like a bus. With a groan, you forced yourself to sit up in bed and reached for your phone. Part of you was tempted to call into work so you could clear your head but you knew that wasn’t a logical decision. Having an argument with your fiance wasn’t usually seen as a reasonable excuse to call out, and you could honestly use the distraction. Your phone switched on after a few seconds, showing the wallpaper of you and Wonwoo on the night you got engaged, but there were no new messages aside from a few work emails. You tried not to be disappointed, remembering that Wonwoo said he had a busy day, but given what happened it felt like he was ignoring you on purpose. No ‘good morning’ no ‘I’m sorry’, or even ‘we’ll talk later’, he just went silent. Tossing your phone to the side, you shook your head and rubbed at your temples for a moment before forcing yourself out of bed. You were going to be late if you kept sitting around and you couldn’t afford that extra stress. You quickly rushed around to get ready and grab your things, checking your phone more times than you were willing to admit. Normally you prided yourself on being level headed in stressful situations, but when it came to Wonwoo all your emotions took over and made you feel like a lovesick teenager. Why couldn’t he give you some indication that things were okay? Was he that mad at you, or was he waiting for you to make the first move?” 

The drive to work was extremely stressful as you found yourself unable to focus on the road, too focused on your relationship and checking your phone every time it vibrated. The only thing that snapped your focus back to the road was the honking of cars and shouting from those who rushed around you as you went too slow or stayed stopped at a green light for too long. 

“Get it together Y/N,” you muttered to yourself, gripping the wheel tightly with one hand while the other moved to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your eyes closed for a moment as you waited at another red light, only to snap back open as the car behind you honked furiously. Without thinking, you slammed on the gas, seeing that the light had changed while you were lost in thought. Your car jerked before speeding forward faster than you had anticipated, causing you to panic a bit as you tried to slow down and regain control. Unfortunately, what you hadn’t noticed was the upcoming intersection, or the truck was actively turning into your lane just as you sped through it. You didn’t have enough time to react as the truck slammed into yours, hard enough to flip it. Your ears were ringing and everything felt like it was happening in slow motion as you watched the world spin around you before eventually staring up at the sky. Your whole body burned but felt numb at the same time and it felt like there was a weight pressing on your chest, causing you to gasp for breath. Multiple people had run over to you, clearly trying to see if you were okay but you were unable to hear them or even respond. All you could do was stare up at them helplessly as your vision slowly faded to black. 

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

Wonwoo had not been able to focus on his work at all, the argument with you and what you said running through his mind like a broken record. He knew that you were right, but he was so overwhelmed that he hadn’t been willing to admit it at the time. He knew he would need to make it up to you, but first he had to finish what he was doing or else the fight would have been for nothing. Not to mention, he didn’t need the guys getting suspicious about what was going on between you two. He already had Jun bugging him about not going home last night and he knew your cousin would be even more on his case if he told him what happened. 

Thankfully right now they were just going over a few basic steps and warmups before starting practice. Wonwoo didn’t need to focus too much as the focus was the performance unit at the moment while the others kind of did their own thing and waited. All he had to do was sit there and be quiet so that they could focus. That wasn’t possible however, as he felt his phone begin to vibrate in his back pocket. He ignored it at first, assuming whoever it was would leave a message or he would just call them back later. That was a decision he would soon come to regret, watching as the door opened and their manager walked into the practice room. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said as all the members turned to him, “but I need to speak with Wonwoo and Junhui outside, the rest of you continue with practice.” The two males glanced at each other, confused, before nodding and following the manager out of the room and into the hall. Their manager glanced around for a moment before taking a deep breath, “We just received a call from the hospital about Y/N, there was a really bad car crash and she is currently receiving emergency care, since you two are her closest family we were told to inform you.” Wonwoo swore that he forgot how to breathe in that moment, tuning the other male out as soon as he heard your name and hospital. The world felt like it was closing in around him, and the only thing he could hear was his rapid breathing and the sound of his heart. 

“Wonwoo…Wonwoo!” Jun shouted his name and violently shook at his shoulder to snap him out of his almost panic attack, “snap out of it, come on we have to go!” All Wonwoo could do was nod, following silently to one of the company cars since neither would be trusted to drive. Jun tried to talk to him during the ride, wanting to assure him that you would be okay and that you were strong but Wonwoo didn’t listen. His mind was flooded with the thoughts of you laying broken and alone in a hospital bed. Even worse, he couldn’t help but wonder if what happened was at least partially his fault. You were usually a very aware person, so what if you were distracted while driving to work? Were you still thinking about the argument with him and that’s what caused you to lose your focus? Perhaps if he had just stayed home and talked everything out with you, or even called you this morning then this wouldn’t have happened. 

By the time the guys had gotten to the hospital, you were out of surgery and recovering in a hospital room. The doctors explained that you had hit your head pretty badly, on top of being scratched up from hitting the pavement, but thankfully they were able to stop the bleeding and prevent any long term damage. Wonwoo was relieved when he heard that, but he was still crushed to see you laying there, wrapped in bandages and hooked up to machines that did who knows what. Almost as if on autopilot, he pulled a chair to the side of your bed and sat down, taking your hand in his. He was careful with his movements, not wanting to hurt you even more than you already were. Jun finished talking with the doctor and helped with a few documents before joining you both in the room. Wonwoo heard the older sigh before feeling his hand on his shoulder. It was at that moment that he finally broke, resting his head in his free hand and trying not to get too emotional. 

“This is my fault,” he muttered. 

“How could it be your fault? You weren’t in the car and you weren’t the one that hit her,” Jun pointed out, to which the younger shook his head. 

“You don’t understand, she was distracted because of me and if she had been paying attention she would have been able to avoid the truck.” Jun remained silent, staring down at Wonwoo as he continued venting out his thoughts, “I’ve been so stressed recently with work and having everything done before the wedding that I ended up completely ignoring my relationship. Y/N’s been trying so hard to keep us going and I couldn’t even help her. What kind of husband would I be if I can’t even be a good boyfriend? Or will I even get to be her husband now?”

“Alright enough,” Jun huffed, “you heard the doctor, she’ll be fine, and besides you know she wouldn’t leave us like that. Blaming yourself for whatever happened isn’t going to help her recover. Right now we just need to be here and support her, okay?” Wonwoo didn’t have the energy to respond, only nodding as he kept his focus on you. Jun opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but decided against it. Instead he pulled a chair to the other side of your bed, both males mutually deciding to keep an eye on you until they were forced to leave. 

It took about four days for you to finally wake up, by this point most of your minor injuries had started to heal and the doctors had been able to remove some of your bandages. The whole time Wonwoo had not left your side, save for the one time the members dragged him out of the hospital so that he could shower and actually rest for at least a few hours. Jun came to visit nearly every day to check on you both, and usually a handful of the members would come with him. From the second they heard about your accident, they all basically swarmed your hospital room to check up on you and bring you various get well gifts. From balloons, to cards, to flowers, to stuffed animals, every day they brought you something new. It honestly looked like you had been in the hospital for months with the amount of gifts, rather than a couple of days. 

It took a moment for you to be able to open your eyes, immediately shutting them again and groaning as they were assaulted with blinding white light. You took a moment to adjust before opening your eyes again, slowly glancing around to get familiar with your surroundings. Your whole body was aching and you felt like you had just woken up from a decade long coma. As your senses slowly regained you also realized an odd pressure on your hand, the warm feeling engulfed it tightly, and then you heard a familiar voice calling your name. 

“Y/N? Y/N can you hear me?” turning your head, you saw a concerned Wonwoo glancing down at you. Both of his hands were gripping yours and he looked like he was seconds from crying. Behind him, you could see Jun frantically typing on his phone before looking up at you with a relieved expression. 

“Wonwoo, Jun? Where am I?” you asked, your voice rough due to how dry your throat was. Wonwoo carefully helped you sit up before helping you take a sip from the water bottle sitting at your bedside. The cool liquid brought immediate relief and you had to restrain yourself from chugging the whole bottle to not risk choking. 

“Easy now, you’ve been through a lot,” he urged softly, “you’ve been asleep for a few days now.”

“What happened?” you asked, honestly struggling to remember anything. Wonwoo's expression dropped, but he quickly fixed it before you noticed. 

“You were involved in a pretty bad accident on your way to work. It knocked you up pretty badly so you’ll probably be sore for a little while. We’ll talk about it when you feel better, right now you just need to focus on recovering.” You wanted to argue, but Jun had made his way over to sit at the other side of your bed, his hand reaching out to softly grip at your arm. 

“He’s right, you need to rest. You owe us for giving everyone a heart attack by the way!” he teased, making you laugh a bit. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you guys,” you apologized, making your cousin shake his head while patting yours. 

“It’s not your fault, we were just worried about you thats all,” he assured. 

“Is that what all the gifts are for?” you asked, finally getting a chance to look around your room. 

“You can mostly thank Jeonghan for that actually,” Jun mused. You guys all sat in silence for a few minutes before the man in question came practically bursting through the door. Joshua, Seungcheol, and Chan were behind him, all carrying even more gifts. 

“Y/N! How are you feeling!” Jeonghan exclaimed as he rushed over, “I made my way over the second Jun told us you were awake, we were so worried!” 

“I’m fine,” you assured, “I’m just tired.”

“How can you be tired?” Chan questioned, “you’ve been asleep for four days now!” Your eyes widened a bit, causing the male to cover his mouth as the older members glared at him. 

“Four days? I’ve been out that long?” you exclaimed. 

“Uh yeah, the doctors said it could take about a week for you to wake up,” Jun explained, “you hit your head pretty badly.” You looked down with a soft “oh” which caused the guys to tense up. 

“Don’t worry about it though, all that matters now is that you’re okay. We can worry about everything else later,” Wonwoo assured, rubbing your hand softly. You nodded softly but didn't look back up at him. The members quickly changed the subject to cheer you up, telling you all the fun practice stories that you missed and doing anything they could to keep you smiling. You noticed that Wonwoo seemed a bit distant during that time, but you didn’t get a chance to comment on that as the others stole away your attention. You guys spent a few hours together, only being interrupted by a nurse or the doctor coming in to check up on how you were doing, before eventually the guys had to leave due to having an early day. They gave you one last goodbye, with Jeonghan and Joshua leaving the stuffed animals they got you on your pillow, before filing out of the room and leaving you and Wonwoo alone. 

“Don’t you have to go also?” you asked, watching the door close behind Jun. 

“I already spoke with management, I can make up practice once you’re recovered and back on your feet,” Wonwoo explained. 

“But it must be so boring just sitting here with me,” you whined, causing him to shake his head. 

“I’m not bored at all, it’s actually kind of relaxing to be away from the guys for so long,” he said with a soft laugh. The comment made you smile a bit but you still couldn’t help but worry about his well being. There was no way that sitting in that plastic chair for as long as he probably had was comfortable. 

“It’s so late though, at least go home and sleep in an actual bed. There is no way sleeping hunched over in a chair is good for your neck or back,” you continued. This time Wonwoo's laugh was louder, lowering his head for a second before looking back up at you and pushing up his glasses. 

“You’re the one in the hospital bed and you’re worrying about me? Don’t worry Y/N, my priority right now is making sure that you are doing okay,” he promised. You tried to argue but he wasn’t listening, going as far as to pull out his phone and pretending to take a call so you couldn’t rebuttal anymore. You laughed a bit at how childish he was acting but gave in and stopped arguing. It was starting to get late and you felt yourself getting more tired until you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Wonwoo noticed and smiled softly at you, “Go ahead and rest Y/N, you need to keep up your strength.” You shook your head as best as you could while rubbing at your eyes, causing him to shake his head a bit. “If I promise to go home and go to bed once you fall asleep, will that help?” he asked. You nodded and whined softly as you struggled to get comfortable with your remaining injuries. “Very well, once I’m sure you’re asleep I will go home and come back in the morning okay? Now go ahead and rest.” You whined again but didn’t argue as you closed your eyes. 

“Goodnight Wonwoo, I love you,” you muttered, eventually letting sleep take over as you slumped against your pillow. 

Wonwoo kept an eye on you until he was positive that you were asleep and wouldn’t be able to hear him. His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand as he took in your injured state. You looked much better than you had when he had gotten to the hospital, but it was clear you would be in pain for quite a while. With a defeated sigh, he lifted your hand enough to press a tender kiss to your skin. 

“I know that you can’t really hear me right now, and you don’t remember what happened but I always will,” he started, “I wasn’t there for you when you needed me and I’ve been neglecting my job as your boyfriend and future husband. I’m sorry that I let it get this far, but I promise that I will never let it happen again. I will make it up to you and I will prove that I deserve to be your husband. I will come home more, I’ll help you out so you’re not always overworking, and I will never doubt you ever again. I promise that I will do better for you, for us, no matter what it takes.” You didn’t even move as he spoke, fast asleep and unable to process the words he was saying. Still, the promise was there, and he was more than determined to keep it. The past few days Wonwoo had a lot of time to reflect on everything, and he wanted to do everything in his power to make sure this situation never happened again. The fear and guilt he had when he thought that he may lose you was a sinking feeling that he never wanted to experience again.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Wonwoo let go of your hand and slowly stood up from his chair. His legs were stiff and almost numb from sitting in one position for so long, but he ignored that as he pushed the chair away. Careful not to disturb you, he leaned over your bed, one hand held himself up as the other moved to brush your hair out of your face. He admired your features as his fingers traced along your cheek and chin before he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to your forehead. Your skin was cold compared to his, almost alarmingly so, but that didn’t stop him from letting his touch linger for as long as humanly possible. He hesitantly pulled away after a moment, running his fingers across your face one last time before standing back. 

“Rest well Y/N, I love you, and I always will.”

↪ Seventeen Taglist: @woo8hao @amethyistheart @exfolitae

To be removed from my taglist please comment or message.

[aptericia]

Commissions are open!

I'm currently opening 5 commission slots! All prices are in USD

You can DM me here, or through my payment platforms:

ko-fi: https://href.li/?https://ko-fi.com/aptericia19601 artistree: https://artistree.io/aptericia

***15% OFF COMMISSIONS FOR FANDOMS IN MY PINNED POST (Revolutionary Girl Utena, Fire Emblem 9/10 & 16/16W, Thunderbolt Fantasy, and Octopath Traveler)***

I will draw:

fanart

original characters

characters without visual reference (i.e. from a written description)

complex designs

mild blood/gore & body horror

I will not draw:

heavy gore

romantic or sexual acts

anything else that makes me uncomfortable

lineart-only style:

1/2 body: $20 full body: $30

flat color style:

1/2 body: $25 full body: $40

cel-shaded style:

bust: $30 1/2 body: $40 3/4 body: $50 full body: $60

fully-rendered style:

bust: $35 1/2 body: $50 3/4 body: $65 full body: $90

backgrounds:

transparent / flat color / simple graphic: $0 simple background: $5-$20 complex background: $20+

extra characters: +70% of listed price

What to expect:

Message me on tumblr, ko-fi, or Artistree for inquiry! Let me know what you’re looking for and I will confirm if I can draw it. Don’t worry if you don’t have all the details figured out—I’m happy to discuss with you! You do not need to provide references for characters who can easily found on the internet, however for OCs and characters from non-visual media, please provide me with descriptions or examples. Same goes for any specific poses, clothes, backgrounds, etc. you’d like me to include. Once we’ve settled on an idea, I’ll send a rough sketch and confirm the price. After I receive the payment, I’ll continue working and send you updates at various stages of the development (lineart, flat colors, etc). You may request changes at each of the stages (minor ones are free, however large or many changes will require an extra fee). When the last update is approved, I’ll send you the final version in high resolution. The amount of time a commission takes is highly dependent on the specifics, but most take under a week. If I expect your piece to take longer than that, I will let you know. By default, I will post the finished commission to all my socials and may use it to promote my services. If you would NOT like your commission to be used this way, please let me know.

Things you ARE allowed to do with your commissioned artwork:

post the artwork to social media

use the artwork for social media icons, banners, etc.

edit the artwork as you wish; however, if the edits obscure my signature then you must credit me

Things you are NOT allowed to do with your commissioned artwork:

claim the artwork as your own

sell or otherwise make profit off the artwork

input the artwork into generative AI programs

[mostly-natm]

I just woke up from a horrible nightmare of this account being hacked. Some notable highlights:

- They were definitely a real person/artist. They also liked Star Trek, but only made content of their Star Trek Muppet OCs.

- They changed my blog colors from green to bright red. They also changed my tagline to something longer, without capitalization (I can’t remember what) and replaced my icon and header.

- At first, they didn’t make their own posts but just edited all of mine to replace the content with their own. They also had commissions, so they just edited my pinned post. They changed many of my posts to link to YouTube videos of their main Star Trek Muppet OC, where they had actually created the thing and filmed it professionally. Can’t say they weren’t talented or dedicated.

- They had their OWN blog and “brand” and everything. Their name was Ugly. Their videos started with something like “Ugly Creations!”

- I didn’t lose access to this account, but was terrified that anything I posted would be immediately deleted by them anyway. They DMed me from their OWN blog to tell me how much they hated me and to “leave Data alone 😂”.

- Once they’d edited most of my posts to replace my content with their own, they also started making text posts. Everyone seemed to interact with them like they had no idea they weren’t me, which drove a stake through my heart. Simultaneously, they must have known people knew something was up, because they posted a text post pretending to be the actual me, gaining my account back, saying we had “worked it out! 🥰”

- Of course I looked for recourse for all of this, but the only solution Tumblr had was to make a new blog all together. I debated what I should change my URL to since they still had my old one. Mostly-Natm2 or Mostly-Natm 2.0 were the top contenders. I also had a stressful time trying to remember my blog description word for word.

- I’ve used emojis here to convey their tone, but actually they typed more like this: “leave Data alone —=+ [ | %.. ! = )” Again, though, they were definitely a real person.

[oneroomjestershow]

hellooo, as saying thanks for the support i want to do this with this 'chibi' style i have!

CLOSED (4/9)

I'll do 9 so it will be a 'first come first served' thing, if i get 9 then i will close asks and let you know it's closed! It's a hip up drawing like in the example and without color!

Edit (18/08) putting it in a 'keep reading' because this was too long

You need to:

Have you age on bio or pinned to know you are 18 or older.

Be following (NO BURNER ACCOUNTS since i will do one character per person).

Send me references of your oc through ask (if u want to give me a little description of their personality that would be great to think about a pose for them but i can manage), I'm fine with picrews but no ai images. It needs to be your character since i prefer drawing characters with direct permission.

Have in mind that:

I won't do animals, furry, mecha or armor, sorry! (i don't want to activate my 3d brain, all of those have different dimensions and anatomy to think about, i'm fine with detailed clothing and animal ears or tail tho, my problem is thinking about face dimensions, mechanic logics and fur)

Also i decided to tag the people that get their spot when i get to 9 people so you will know if you will wait for the drawing or not, i will reblog this and tag on it! After that i will start drawing! if you don't want to be tagged tell me through the ask, we could use a perzonalized word too but it's up to you to tell me, if not then i will understand I'm allowed to tag you! Since i don't have DMs available

Other things to considerate:

i will focuse on lineart with one color, like in the drawing as example of style (depending of the colors of the caracter i will chose the color for it, maybe some shadows and details to make it look pretty but overall is like a surprise).

i could take a while TT_TT i want it to look good enough, if i talk here or post another drawing that doesn't have to do with this don't pressure me, i will get to it!

I won't directly respond the ask i get for this (unless it's a question regarding it), so you can send whatever, but if you have references in your blog you can tell me! just don't make me click strange links;;

I won't ask anything about the character so i will work with what i receive! if i get a detail wrong or skip it im sorry! but i won't change it once i post it, still hope you like it tho

Don't use it for ai or commercial purposes, just for personal usage but you can also edit it if you want, credit is not required but don't say you made it!

i will reblog this with the drawings i get done in the order in which i received the references, also i will tag (or use the personalized word) that's the only way i can think about in how you can receive the drawing, so that's all :D I'll be attentive to anything.

[obsessivestar]

'What If It's All A RomCom?' - a Ted Nivison x Reader

{{- Welcome to Chapter 4! Gonna ditch the Story Description from here on out. If this is your first chapter, I'd recommend reading Chapter 1, Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 first! Or just read this one if you want the good shit, up to you ;^) -}}

//General Warnings: 18+ fic, Reader implied to be afab and under 5'5.

Chapter Warnings: Heated language. Heavy kissing. Mentions of Jackbox (Idk if that should count as a warning but the game is in this chapter so if you don't know of it you might get confused)\\

> Word count: 4.7k (I'm so fucking sorry LMAO)

☆▪︎▪︎▪︎Taglist!▪︎▪︎▪︎☆

@k-k0129

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Chapter 4: You Don't Wanna Kiss Me?

The shots we had just done looked very pretty, actually. The crew had gotten this one beautiful shot of the extras throwing around the ball on the left with Ted and I along the flagpole on the right, the bright sun giving this shadowy effect to us all. Good. This way, you can't see how absolutely embarrassed I was with how close Ted was to me; practically had me pinned against that pole. It did make for an excellent shot though, and I could tell Tanner was proud. I didn't want to ruin that for him.

Once we all moved inside, Ted and I finally got to take part in some scenes where we'd be speaking to one another. These next scenes had extras moving around with packed bags and boxes, simulating a large group of friends helping each other move in. Ted and I would be discussing graduation in the scene over by the kitchen table. He and Tanner had apparently made some adjustments to the script earlier in the morning as the personality of 'Mason' needed to be tweaked for Ted's more extroverted personality. I didn't mind it, any new context didn't change my own lines and we were free to improv if need be. Ted would even start the scene by picking up a box from the front door to bring to the kitchen table to make the scene feel more natural. I liked how much Ted was willing to adapt to everything for the production, I'm sure Tanner appreciated it too; and I appreciated getting to see Ted move some more.

Oh man, I'm not actually starting to like this guy, am I?

I have to control my thoughts for the scene to continue. These casual takes are relatively easy to get through when my brain isn't arguing with itself. We shoot several different scenes together, some where we're talking alone and some where we're in a group setting, once again doing any necessary retakes until the sun starts to set once again and Tanner decides to call it for the day. As the film crew once again packed up and dispurse to their own accommodations, I found out who that 5th mystery member of the editing team was. It was Dan, the guy that had almost hit me with the football earlier. He apologized to me more, but I reassured him all was okay and that I wasn't upset with anyone. The interaction had got me thinking about how to wind the night down without us all retreating to our bedrooms. We had ended the 2nd day of filming a little earlier than we wrapped up yesterday, so we had the free time. I pitched the idea to Tanner once everyone else had left, and he loved the idea, so we got everyone else together and met up in the living room.

Tanner was the one to suggest bringing his PC down from his room to play Jackbox, a party game where you use your phones as controllers to connect and play some entertaining mini games. We'd all have to be together for the next 3 weeks anyways; it felt like the perfect ice breaker. At this point, everyone had changed into their own clothes, including Ted, who was wearing a black sweater and some casual dark grey pants. He looked pretty comfy, actually. The couch we were all on was like one giant sofa, all connected together in the shape of a sharp U with a large flat screen TV mounted up on the wall adjacent to us. I had sat myself near one of the corners on the left side, pleasantly surprised when Ted chose to sit next to me. The scent of pine I had caught on him earlier was a little stronger now, even though he wasn't sitting all that close to me.

"Did you put more cologne on?" I ask with a smirk, sitting up a bit more on the couch as he got comfortable next to me. "Yeah. I sweat a lot sometimes and I don't want to smell." Ted admitted, sounding a lot more relaxed than I'm used to hearing. He might've been a little tired from the long day we've had.

"That's actually why I'm sitting over here. Tanner smells like shit, like, almost all the time, so..." Ted jokes, giving a tired grin to Tanner who was setting up his PC to connect to the TV. "That's cap, chat. That's so cap." Tanner casually responds, plugging an HDMI cable to the side of the TV, then moving to sit at the far left end of the couch. Dan had chosen to sit somewhat in the middle part of the large sofa, more on Tanner's side so Joe could sit next to me.

"If you want to sit next to (Y/N), you can just say that." Tanner speaks up again, moving his mouse and keyboard onto the coffee table. I blush to myself, pulling my hands into my own long sleeved shirt. If Tanner of all people is starting to comment on...whatever's between Ted and I, it must be noticeable to literally everyone else. So it can't just be my imagination. "No, see, she doesn't smell like gym socks, so that's fine. I'll take vanilla over gym socks."

"I smell like vanilla to you?" I scoff, turning my head to him and raising a brow.

"It's not 'to me'. I just know you use vanilla."

"What do you mean I use vanilla?"

"You have a little spray bottle that says 'warm vanilla sugar." Ted spreads his thumb and his pointer figure to estimate the size of the bottle. I'm flabbergasted because he's right.

"How the fuck do you know that???" Joe asks, sounding about as confused as I am.

"Because I saw her put it in her bag!"

"Why were you--" a chuckle escapes me. "How do you know exactly what it's called?"

"You left it on the counter this morning and it scared the shit out of me because I thought it was, like, a little container of piss at first, so I looked at it!" Ted admitted, gesturing over to the kitchen with his arm. Everyone in the room starts laughing, myself included. His logic makes no sense sometimes. "And then I saw you put it in your bag, so I know it's yours!"

"Imagine it was actually was a container of piss though. Like, sorry, I left it there." Joe jokes, grinning over at Tanner. "Yeah, sorry chat, I was saving it for later." Tanner continues the joke, laughter once again filling the room. "Man, we should start a podcast." My friends are an interesting pair, I tell ya. I was surprised to see Dan and Ted weren't phased by our strange humor. They seemed to fit right in our strange friend group.

Tanner got the first game up so we could test some of the types of minigames this series had to offer. We quickly realized the trivia ones weren't very fun for us, mostly because we didn't know what any of the answers were. Quiplash gave us some good laughs but got old very quickly, and Tee K.O. was fun, but the creativity didn't last. The ones that really entertained us were The Devil's And The Details, Talking Points, and especially FixyText. There was something about the more cooperative ones that were an absolute blast, especially if I was ever paired with Ted. We'd be pushing and yelling at each other whenever one was trying to stop the other from committing a selfish act in one game, then get close together and share the screens of our phones as we created the funniest text replies in another, snickering and whispering to each other to plan ahead. I think we really blew everyone away with our fake presentations, too. Whenever we were paired up for a game, we'd be inseparable. Sensational, even.

But as always, time is fated to pass and it eventually got rather late in the night. As the last awards of the night are given, I realize just how much closer I had gotten to Ted. I wasn't leaning on his shoulder or anything, but we were practically stuck side by side together with our knees up to our chest, sharing the award we were giving out. I could tell Ted was getting tired as his voice was the lowest I had ever heard it. It was kind of...hot, actually. Especially this close. Dan is the first to say goodnight and head upstairs, with Joe helping Tanner pack away the PC to bring upstairs as well. For a little while, it was just Ted and I.

On that couch.

In that living room.

Downstairs.

Alone.

"You look tired." I speak softly as I look at Ted, who had put his hood up earlier. I could see the subtle bags under his eyes from this close.

"You kept me up past my bedtime.." Ted muttered with a tired smirk, keeping his eyes on his phone. He was checking all of his social media for the night, switching from Instagram to Twitter. "I didn't mean to keep you up.." I chuckled a little, sticking my own phone into my baggy pockets. "You're a big boy, you can make your own decisions."

"I know, but you were staying up, so.." Ted sniffles to stifle a yawn, looking over at me as he wipes one of his eyes with his hand. "Your fault."

"My fault?"

"Mhmm.."

"It's my fault you chose to stay up with me?"

"Yeah. Exactly."

"It sounds like you wanted to stay up with me, Teddy.." I shoot him a gentle grin, taking the opportunity to tease him. "I wanted..." Ted pauses to allow himself to yawn, stretching one arm out while covering his mouth with his free hand before continuing. "I wanted to make sure you'd lose."

"You wanted to make sure I'd lose."

"That's right."

"That's it?"

"That's about it."

"You wanna know what I think?"

"Prolly not a whole lot..."

"I--fuck off, I think--" I let out a cackle, lightly smacking his shoulder. "I think you wanted to stay up with everyone, not just me."

"Not just you?"

"No."

"No?..."

He stops stretching and looks at his phone one last time to close Twitter, then slips his phone into his sweater pocket and turns his head again to look at me. Our eyes meet and the room goes quiet. Ted has this relaxed half-smile as he looks at me, his eyes subtly moving left to right to suggest he's looking at both of my eyes. I return the tired smile, taking the quiet moment to gaze into his earthy orbs. As our gazes stay fixed on one another, I can feel a pit of anxiousness grow in my stomach like a slow, blooming flower. He just admitted it, didn't he? He wanted to stay up for me, with me. I can't deny this any longer. Ted is...a very handsome looking man. I can't break my gaze away. I turn my body a bit more towards him to make my neck more comfortable. His eyes wander along my blushing cheeks. I wonder if his gaze would go any lower, but he returns his stare to mine. I shouldn't. I can't even find the willpower to say anything, but he isn't speaking either. He isn't speaking, he isn't teasing me, he's stopped teasing me. Why has he stopped teasing me? He's so...he's so...

"(Y/N)"

I hear my name come from Joe's voice, startling Ted and I a little. I look over the couch to see Joe standing at the stairs, giving me a knowing smirk. How long has he been standing there? I look at my phone and realize it's nearly midnight. We should all be going to bed. I look over at Ted again, but he's already off the couch, cleaning up the empty bottles and cups to the kitchen. Son of a bitch.

I get up to help clean up, as Ted missed a cup since his hands were full. "Hold on." I tell Joe, heading into the kitchen with Ted. It's all one big room, so Joe can still see Ted and I in the kitchen. As Ted's putting the bottles in the recycling, I start putting the cups in the sink. There's a moment where we both reach for the same cup and his hand slightly rests on top of mine. His hand is surprisingly colder than I anticipated. We look at each other and chuckle quietly, then Ted removes his hand so I could put the cup in the sink.

"Clearly I am fuckin' tired.." He mutters and looks at me with a tired smile. "Don't stay up so late next time.." I pester him a little, returning the smile as I move away from the sink.

"I probably will.."

"Right, and it'll be my fault, yeah?"

"It'll absolutely be your fault."

I roll my eyes at his response, not even making an effort to hide the blush on my cheeks.

"Goodnight, Ted."

"G'night, stinky.."

A little laugh slips out of me, finally joining Joe at the stairs. Before we're even out of Ted's sight, Joe is already badgering me about that exchange. He whispers in a criticizing tone, but I can barely hear him over our stepping until we get to the upstairs hallway.

"I literally told you. I literally told you not to flirt." Joe huffs, picking up his tone now that we were likely out of earshot. "No no no, you didn't tell me not to flirt." I shake my head and waggle my finger in Joe's direction. "You told me not to sleep with him, I'm not sleeping with him."

"That's not what it was about to look like." Joe's whisper becomes raspy, like he's quietly yelling at me.

"What do you mean?? I didn't start flirting, he did."

"Did you not feel how fucking close you two were the whole night? He looked like he was about to kiss you just now!"

I look over at the stairs, as if I'm able to look at Ted through them. I think about his eyes and his smile. God, his smile. His stupid smile. "He was?.." Once again, I find myself smiling. It seems I can't even hide these feelings from Joseph. Not sure why I thought I could, Joe's see's everything, especially if I'm involved. He may know me better than I know myself. He's my best friend.

He snaps his fingers in my face to wake me from my gaze, furrowing his brows at me in frustration. I let out a huff, shrugging my shoulders at him. I'm not going to dance around him anymore. I know he has good intentions, but I see him as a brother, not a father. "Well, so fucking what? What do you want me to say, that I think he's ugly?"

"I'd know you're lying to me."

"Exactly! What are you gonna do if it actually happens? I have to kiss him tomorrow anyways. If something else happens, it happens. I don't know what to tell you that'd make you feel better other than I'll be fine."

Joe takes a deep breath, turning his head away from me for a moment. I could see his thoughts through his body language. He was unsure at first, but a mischievous smirk began to take over his expression. I saw Protective Brother Joseph leave his body in favour of Gossiping Best Friend Joseph.

"...okay, you two would be pretty hot together."

I let out a louder laugh than I probably should've, quickly covering my mouth as Joe playfully shushes me. I know Joe just doesn't want me to get hurt, I acted the same way with him when he met his husband. We love each other like family. "But you have to promise me you'll tell me first if anything happens. I need the tea."

"Oh you know I will.." I grin at him, moving over to my door for the night.

"Night, Joe." "Night (Y/N)."

I enter my bedroom and plop right down on the bed, letting out a content sigh. I take out my phone to glance over social media one last time. I see Ted had posted a photo of the 5 of us earlier, and I see just how close I was to Ted. I take a screenshot of it and rest the phone down on my chest, unable to contain my smile. I giggle to myself, knowing what's coming. I fall asleep wondering if I'll be ready tomorrow. There's a very good chance I could freak out.

Turns out, we both might've been freaking out.

The morning comes and goes, mostly because some of us had slept in. By the afternoon, we're having to turn the lights down and close the blinds to simulate it being much later in the night. We've got a bunch of RGB lights and even a light-up disco ball on the ceiling to make it feel like a party. This is the first scene in which Ted and I will be sharing a kiss. I actually really like how the scene is set. Ted and I are sitting in a circle with a bunch of the extras playing Spin-The-Bottle. Of course, after a few spins, the bottle will be pointing for us to kiss. We have to act like we're nervous, which probably wasn't helping. When it came to filming the actual kissing scene, we had to sit down beside each other, turn our heads and kiss, but it had to be slow. We have to linger on it, really show the tension building up just for it to burst with that very first kiss.

But for nearly a whole hour, we couldn't do it.

Maybe it was all the extra eyes, maybe it was the weird angle we were at, I had no idea. Sometimes Ted would be ready and I'd mess up, sometimes I'd be ready and he'd mess up. It was a whole ordeal. I felt bad for everyone that was waiting for us to get this. No one appeared to be mad, but one kiss was taking over an hour. Even I'd start to feel a little frustrated if the leads couldn't wrap it up. We almost get it at one point, but I choke at the last second and start laughing, which makes Ted start laughing as well. He grabs my face and starts shaking me, chanting. "We have to kiss, (Y/N)! This is our job! You need to kiss me, God damnit! Look at my lips and kiss me!" We both were becoming hysterical, so much so that Tanner finally decided to call for a break. I was relieved, actually. As hard as I was laughing, I was embarrassed. I thought I'd be more prepared for this. Perhaps getting this comfortable with Ted was a mistake, now I can't do my job.

As everyone's leaving to grab lunch or touch up their hair and makeup, Tanner approaches Ted and I as we get up from the floor. I half expected him to encourage us to get the kiss over with in front of everyone, but he has a different idea. "Okay, this is going to sound insane, but hear me out..." Tanner begins, gesturing to the both of us. "I'm gonna get the camera rolling...and then I'm just gonna leave it there."

"Leave it there?" I ask, raising a brow. "What do you mean?"

"I just...I feel like all of the eyes watching are making this a little harder for you guys.." Tanner admitted, clasping his hands together. "I can bring another camera and go outside with everyone, I want you two to be comfortable. You can take your time and, yknow, Ted could look at the shot afterwards.." Tanner trails off, probably looking for a specific reaction out of either Ted or I. Ted didn't seem to mind the idea at all, looking over at me with a shrug. I look down at my shoes, sort of clicking them together. So Tanner wants Ted and I to kiss on camera...alone.

"But if you want to wait, we can film something else..." Tanner speaks up again, looking at me with a concerned expression.

"Are you okay...?" Ted pauses, lightly touching my arm with one of his fingers, almost like he was...caressing me. I turn my head up to look at Ted, watching as he tilts his head. "....with that?"

"Yeah, I can do it this way." I finally answer, giving Ted and Tanner a smile. "He probably needs a refresher on how to kiss a woman anyways..."

Ted chuckles and shakes his head at me, though Tanner is satisfied with the answer. "Alright, I'll just set it up and give you two the reigns.." Tanner speaks, moving over to the camera. He adjusts a few things on it, then takes a step back and shoots us some finger guns. "Shout if you need me."

Ted and I watch as Tanner collects the rest of the team and brings them outside, watching one of the bigger crew members pick up an entire camera and hoist it on outside.

Now, it was just Ted and I.

In the living room.

Alone.

On camera.

"Alright, go sit where we were before, I'll make sure the camera's in focus.." Ted instructs, pointing over to the floor. I can't help but blush, only because It sounded like a command. I wonder if he's the type to talk you through it...

Stop it. It's just a kiss.

I go and sit back on the floor, criss-crossing my legs as I watch Ted fiddle with the camera. After a moment, he lets out a sigh and steps back. "Alright. You're in focus. It'll adjust to us." He speaks, coming over to sit next to me. I can feel my heart start beating out of my chest once he sits down. This is really happening. I know I have to do this for Tanner, I want to do it for Tanner, but it's...harder now. For some reason, it's harder now.

"If you want, we could just...talk first.." Ted spoke to me in a condecending tone. Our eyes meet once more and I get that same pit in my stomach that I had last night. No. I'm not gonna let him have this. He got me yesterday on that fucking pole, I'm getting him today. "We could...talk about last night.." I offered, shooting him a little grin. He cracks a smile, gliding the tip of his tongue along his top teeth briefly.

"You wanna get into this on camera?" Ted asks, nodding at me with am embarrassed little smile.

"What!? You're the one that offered to talk!" I start laughing, tilting my head at him mockingly. "You don't wanna kiss me, Teddy? You afraid to kiss me?"

"Fuck you."

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"This film is going to fail because of you--"

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"and your--and your giant fucking ego."

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"Are you done, princess? Are you fucking done?" Ted's swiveling his head in my direction to mock me back, a permanent grin on his face. "Shut your mouth, I'm comin' in."

"You're not doing shit! That's not the tell!"

"Hey."

"'Hey' what?"

"Hey."

"What?"

"Shut your mouth."

I raise both of my eyebrows at him and scoff. Before I can think of another sarcastic remark, he does it. His eyes wander down to my lips, lightly nibbling on the end of his own bottom lip, then he returns his gaze to mine. That's the tell. He's about to lean in, but I don't let him.

My body moves on its own, darting towards him so our lips could finally meet for the first time. All of the tension that had been building between us finally begins to melt as our lips continue to connect, slowly at first. It's not enough. I unravel my legs and sit up on my knees. Ted reacts by placing both of his hands on my waist, pulling me in closer to cause a breathy moan to escape into our kiss. My hands reach up to hold both of his cheeks, his glasses caressing my face as our lips caress each other's tenderly. I can feel the heat radiating off his cheeks, my own warm blush making my breathing pick up. I can't pull away. It feels like his lips were meant to be attached to mine. I can feel his breathing on my chest, his stubble along the palms of my hands, his fingers gripping my lower back, his tongue gliding along his lower lip into mine, his cologne, the tension. The tension. All of it was making me stir crazy. His lips, his kiss, I could lose myself in him. I could truly lose it. I don't want to stop. I want to run my fingers through his hair, I want to bite his stupid lip, I want to be louder.

But we're on camera. Tanner's camera. We have to stop. I have to...

I'm the one to break the kiss, hearing a quiet pop and an airy moan from Ted in response. I connect my forehead with his for a brief moment, keeping my eyes closed until I pull away to look at him. The tip of his nose tickles mine, his hands still wrapped around my waist. We share a quiet moment, steadying our breathing. I don't even know if this kiss was supposed to be this heated, but it's what Tanner's getting. All he wrote was 'Kara and Mason kiss' in the script. He can work with this.

"...I think we got it.." Ted is the first to speak up, but he doesn't remove his hands from me just yet. I can't help but let out a laugh, leaning my head back for a moment. "What? What did I say?" Ted asks, smiling through his teeth.

"No no, I just..." I take a few breaths through my laughter, letting go of his face to wave my hand a little. "I-I think that's the quietest we've been together so far.."

"Oh yeah? We should probably get louder then.."

Now that. That is something I didn't think I'd hear out of Ted, certainly not to me. Did he forget we're supposed to be shooting a scene?

"Camera's still rolling, Teddy.."

"...FUCK!"

Ted nearly throws me off of him and struggles to get up to go turn off the camera. I'm absolutely killing myself laughing as I pick myself up off the floor. No way did the fucker forgot we were filming. He JUST said 'we got it'.

"You forgot!?"

"Can you cut footage on this!?"

"You fucking forgot! Oh my god, you sad fuck!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Ted laughs, trying to sound angry with me as he pauses the film on the camera. "Tanner's gonna see that!"

"Hell yeah he is! Great Job, Teddy! You sleazy mother fucker.."

"Me? Me!? He's gonna see you being a fucking slut!"

"Oh I'M the slut!? Really?!"

"Yeah!"

"Really!?"

"Yes!"

"Your hands on my fucking waist? I'M the slut!?"

"Your tongue in MY mouth!"

"You started with it!"

"I did fucking NOT! I felt yours first!"

"I felt YOURS first! YOU started with it!"

"Started with what?"

Tanner suddenly steps into the room, startling both of us. He must've just stepped in from outside, I didn't even hear him close a door. He's got no idea what we're yelling at each other about. "Have you guys kissed yet?"

Ted and I look at each other again as I struggle to contain my laughter. All I can do is nod, pointing in Ted's direction. "Ask him about it. It's on there." I manage to speak after a little while, walking passed them to head outside. I lightly touch my lips as I open the screen door to get outside. The last thing I hear is Tanner asking Ted about all the yelling, and a final huff from Ted himself.

Truthfully, I needed to head outside to compose myself. I could still feel his hands on my warm cheeks, placing my own hand on it to feel just how hot they had become. I couldn't believe he forgot he were filming, he seemed very into...all of that.

What would've happened if the camera wasn't there?

__________________________________

|| Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 (smut) || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut) || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 (smut) || Chapter 15 ||

[poppyseedqueenz]

(Hopefully Final)Update On the owonekko situation:

Okay so just today the situation has reached its peak so a few hours ago Nondi has worsened this whole mess by making a follow-up response to not only Jouusta but to her critics AND her fans as a WHOLE and let's just say it's probably WORSE than her first response

How did she Respond? Did she apologize? Is she taking a break? Did she realize her mistake?

Well.....

Okay I'm not gonna hold back

Nondi This is the Most NASTIEST, IMMATURE, RUDEST, DISRESPECTFUL Thing that I have Ever Seen! Where do I even start?? Lets start with the fact that whole Animatic low-key ridiculous not only is the whole thing lowkey disrespectful to EVERYONE involved with the portrayal of Jo, Her Critics, HER FANS. But this video is anything BUT respectful! She went silent for almost 5 to 10 days after her Livestream only to make an EVEN worse response not only that but the fact That now she's trying to turn the whole thing into a race issue when race was NEVER even mentioned by Jo or anyone EXCEPT Nondi! Nondi was the ONLY one who said anything about her skintone but now I'm starting to realize something

At this point this isn't even about the AI anymore Nondi is just being a straight-up bully and slandering Everyone involved specifically Jo painting her in a TERRIBLE TERRIBLE Light(whilst now Nondi fans are also now sending Jo hate comments and a few were DEATH THREATS)

Not only that but in the description to her animatic not only is she "Not sorry" she made a lengthy doc(and yes I read every single word) where she fails to take accountability and passes blame onto the critics and Jo and making excuses for her behavior and adding extra things that are half-true, not relevant to the situation, gaslighting fans, and downright lies of which she claims is the "truth"

Nondi's Doc:

Let me remind that after Jo's video went up she made a Pinned Comment and made a few edits to it when Nondi's livestream went up This is What she Said:

Jo's Pinned Comment: "EDIT (9/12/24): Thank you to all who have let me know about Nondi’s most recent livestream and livestream thumbnail. I have not watched the full VOD, but I have seen the thumbnail and… obviously, I am not okay with it. Not in the slightest. That being said, it’s very clear to me that she’s having a mental health episode of some sort. I’m hoping after that livestream she’ll take some time off the internet and not entertain this controversy anymore. I’m disappointed with her actions, with her portrayal of me, and with how she’s handled everything, but at the end of the day I want her to be mentally well, and I feel bad that I contributed anything to the deterioration of her mental state. I still stand by everything I said in this video. I still think she’s wrong for misgendering the larger creator (and continuing to justify it). But I think this will be the last thing I’ll say regarding this video and OwONekko. If anything else happens, I’m not gonna address it (unless I feel like I REALLY need to). Again, don’t go and harass Nondi. Don’t be nasty to anyone. Take care of your mental health too. . . . . . . . . A few more notes here! I changed the title of this video from “How to Lose an Audience’s Trust - OwONekko’s AI Art Stance and How it Harms Artists” to “OwONekko’s Generative AI Stance and How it Harms Artists” because I felt like that was a more concise and less offensive way to market the video. I also want to say I do NOT think Nondi is a bad person for using and liking AI for the reasons she does, I just disagree with her reasons, and I should have been more clear about that. She’s entitled to her opinion about AI as much as I am entitled to mine. I may go here or on my insta to say a few more things regarding this situation if anything else happens, but I’m not going to make any more video content because I don’t want to egg on the people that have been relentlessly harassing Nondi because of my video. Genuinely, I feel awful about that. If you have anything to say about this discourse, keep it on MY video and off of her twitter/ Youtube page. She’s seen all the arguments, criticism, and nasty shit that’s out there. I may have criticized her for blocking certain users in my video, but at this point I think that course of action is 100% justified. If I had known this video was going to be shown to over 200,000 people in less than 48 hours, I would have been a lot more clear and less reactive with how I expressed things in this video. I’ve never had a video perform like this one did.. like, genuinely, I thought this would be watched by the people already in this discourse and MAYBE just a few others. It was not my intention to bring so many new eyes to her channel, especially in this light, but that’s what happened. As for the transphobia claims, she says it was an accident and will not repeat this mistake going forward. She hasn’t apologized for misgendering the creator, which I absolutely disagree with, but she’s made it clear she doesn’t stand by what she originally did. (that being said, I am not trans or queer, so whether or not you want to support her for this going forward is completely up to you. Just don’t go and be a bother to her.)(edit: she has continued to justify her misgendering the larger creator so idek anymore) I’ll edit this comment if I have anything else to add, but for now that’s all I have to say."

I am 100% on Jo's side of the drama

Jo said that nondi was entitled to her opinion and was not calling her bad in ANY WAY Jo was rightfully upset about how nondi portrayed her in the Livestream(she hasn't seen the Animatic yet) and for some reason nondi and her die-hards decided to attack her when Jo just made a harmless statement and even said not to harass anyone at the VERY beginning of her video plus she Cannot be blamed for who saw the video she is not in control of what the algorithm shows us as she said that her intended target for the video were people who WERE actually aware of the situation WITH the exception of a FEW new eyes NOT 200,000(now 400,000) new eyes and she did apologize for that and I do agree if people did not watch Nondi's ai stance video and then Jo's video(even though jo DID say to watch Nondi's video first to get the full context)

(Note: I watched Nondi's full ai stance video before Jo uploaded hers) and just saw Jo's video(depending on how much you watched of Jo's video) and just relentlessly attacked nondi are also in just as much of the wrong telling her to "Kys" is not helpful and making her more stubborn and while I don't agree with her deleting comments that DO know the full story those critiquing her with no context are 100% justified beacuse context is EVERYTHING however Nondi's reactions and responses are NOT justified whatsoever she is a GROWN ASS WOMAN who knew DAMN WELL what's she's doing especially when she went live with that slander video, Twitter posts and even TODAY'S video and the fact that people are still defending what she's done are also the problem she is not the victim she is the perpetrator and when other people did what she's done now they were called crazy, were ridiculed or nearly lost or DID their careers entirely)

The last time a rapper(Doja Cat) made a post disrespecting her fans the same way nondi did she lost almost 200,000 followers

When this rapper(Nicki Minaj) went on a whole Twitter rampage and a crazy rant on IG live beacuse of Hiss (by Meg Thee Stallion)(in this case Nondi went on A coke rant on YT live)she was called a fucking cokehead

When this youtuber(Colleen Ballinger) made a video pinning blame on the internet for banding together, calling her out on her predatory behavior and made a ukulele musical as a response(in Nondi's a fucking snl skit) her response was seen as the worst youtuber apology/statement videos to date

(Note: this is not an attack on Nicki, Doja nor Meg as I love and respect all 3 of these artists however I can't say the same thing for Colleen as she is a terrible human being)

And while people are saying "omg the art community is so sensitive" and you know what? You're right the art community can get sensitive over everything and anything but that that's not the case people are rightfully upset at nondi she montitezed her ai Playlist Made by a company who's under fire for stealing unauthorized audio and using it but now she's attacking fans and critics who were trying to tell here what she was doing was WRONG

AI is a dangerous practice and a very controversial topic that is threatening not only art but jobs in general if ai was not being trained on stolen work and being seen as a replacement then maybe I would have a different opinion the problem is its not being seen as a tool but as a REPLACEMENT for human artists whist stealing art from them and creating entirely new images for the stolen work and people keep Making excuses for ai if "get with the times" mean I have to just let ai steal my work then I rather be left behind

And when I was looking at Nondi's Doc she keeps using race(she used are a total of 3 times even again race is NOT the problem and the fact that your using the race card is downright sickening and this is coming from a black person) and she tried to make Jo look like the bad person and acting as if what she's doing isn't overreacting guess what nondi You ARE overreacting and this Animatic and doc is proof and the way you responded has just made things worse you could've used that short hiatus to reevaluate or make a statement no one asked you to apologize for the A.I video but for the misgendering, the hateful comments and to Jo but instead you make 2 videos(one of them being a YT live) and slandered many people(even though you said you don't like bigger platforms using their influence to harm others) she is becoming the thing that she doesn't want to be and it's sad and the fact that fans still defend and fight tooth and nail for her just proves how ignorant these people are critics will critique ANYTHING, EVERYTHING and EVERYONE that should be common knowledge if you become a content creator or a public figure(such as a celebrity, influencer or musician) if you can't wrap your head around that then content creation isn't for you She is a GROWN woman who went on a two-year old rampage over a controversial topic

Remember the reason all of this is happen is beacuse she got pissy over ONE comment and she's using her race as a sheild

This isn't a RACE issue this is an ETHICS issue and she's treating it like some Anti-Black Campaign

Nondi This is Unacceptable

Leave the internet or take a hiatus beacuse this is too far

[lacefuneral]

hi reddit. here are some tips.

i will be putting these below a "readmore" - which is the first lesson. on desktop there is a button for this. on mobile you type :readmore: followed by a linebreak. it is considered common ettique to shorten your long posts in this way.

by the way, are you reblogging a long post that isn't under a readmore? tag that as #long post so users can blacklist it and not have to scroll for five years.

(weird gaps in bullet points due to character limits lmao)

Title. Icon. Banner. blog description. (look around if you need an idea for what to put in your blog description.) Blogs without this information (ESPECIALLY the no icon + no title combo) gets you blocked immediately. This is because tumblr has always had a severe bot problem. Just grab a meme from your camera roll or a picture of a character you like from google.

also, because most users have their pronouns in their bio, it is expected that you will look there to check before addressing them, out of courtesy. don't just default to "they" - only do that if a person's pronoun's are unclear or if the pronouns listed ARE "they."

Disable public likes. the like button is for personal bookmarking. very often, people will like posts they have not read yet, so that they can read them later. a person's likes is not always reflective of their stances, and if your likes are public, people may use them against you in an argument. think of your likes as your browser history. tumblr users value privacy in this instance.

unrelated to the above point: likes are also used to show compassion for a user going through a tough time, or to say "hey, i thought this joke you made was funny." this use of likes is more for friend-to-friend communication.

Disable anything in your settings that is algorithmic including seeing posts based on other people's likes (one, because algorithms exist to make you mad and two, as part of respecting privacy)

set "following" to appear before "for you" (and overall avoid "for you")

Snooze Tumblr Live (sorry. you have to do this once a week bc tumblr sucks.)

Open your askbox so people can communicate with you. Decide if you want to allow anonymous asks and/or public DMs.

Enable the desktop version of your blog. This makes it so that when you use a computer and go to [yourusername].tumblr.com you can have a website with HTML and CSS. tumblr has tried very hard to kill blog personalization but you can find many helpful users posting in the tags, as well as pre-made themes you can install. tumblr users are the ones making the bulk of neocities websites, and in general tend to be friendly in redirecting you to resources.

enabling your desktop blog also allows you to insert links and do very basic editing (like inserting line breaks) in your blog description (we call "bio") which translates to the mobile version of your theme. you have to do this in the editor for the desktop on a computer. also, editing your theme on mobile (like changing color, font) will undo your HTML. your best bet is to edit your mobile theme first and THEN do the HTML/link stuff on a computer. i know it sounds a bit convoluted but you'll figure it out. (this website is made of duct tape)

also while you are on desktop: download xkit rewritten. it won't work on mobile but it gives you a lot of helpful features. also consider installing ublock origin if you haven't already, because tumblr will sometimes add annoying widgets to their website and that tool will allow you to block them. i also use "palettes for tumblr" to customize my dashboard color. tumblr DOES have built-in dashboard themes but i do not like them personally.

pinned posts. you can pin any post you make or reblog. some people use this to pin a funny meme, and other people use the pinned post as an extended bio (or otherwise an alternative to it). a tumblr post made on desktop can hold up to 30 images (the limit is 10 on mobile.) you can also embed links, a video, and even audio. you can change text color, have bullet points, and increase font size. as such, you can express yourself much more in a pinned post than in your mobile blog description. a typical pinned post may include information about the user, a link to an external website (like a carrd, neocities, or linktree), and sometimes an image or two. tumblr allows you to disable reblogs for a post, so most pinned posts are set this way so it just stays on a user's blog.

DNIs (also called "BYF"). not everyone uses them, and they can be divisive. it stands for "Do Not Interact" - and is a boundary set to keep people away. this may include age (example: "minors DNI"), political opinions (example: "prolifers DNI"), and sometimes deeply niche online discourse. DNIs are also sometimes a joke (example: "DNI if you like tuna salad"). there is actually a meme where someone will write a post with a very long, unreasonable DNI and users will count how many apply to them.

If you would upvote a post on reddit, you would reblog it here. If you see something and you think it is cool, you think it is funny, or you think it is helpful, reblog it. Some users have sideblogs (you can have infinite sideblogs attached to your main account) to organize all of the posts they reblog. Others simply use a tagging system for organizational purposes (and so users can blacklist ("filter") those tags in their settings if they don't want to see the post). For example, if I followed a user for Star Trek, but they also posted a lot of Star Wars, I might add "#star wars" to my list of filters. This way, I am only seeing the Star Trek posts. Tumblr's default way of handling this is to display a box that says "this post contains #Star Wars" and you can choose whether or not to open it. on desktop with xkit rewritten, you can have it hide those boxes entirely. please use filters. your sanity will thank you.

In a reblog, Organizational Tags are for /you./ I see a lot of confusion about this from new users. If you reblog someone else's post and add 500 tags..... it's not going to get picked up in tumblr search. You're not going to get any sort of exposure. Because it is not your post. Those tags are only for /you/ - if you want to find the post again.

tags are also used for commentary. most tumblr users do /not/ talk in post replies or in the comments of a reblog. most of them talk in tags. tags have a character limit so these messages are broken up in fragments. tumblr uses a comma (,) to make a new tag, so users often use either no punctuation or a period (.) or a hyphen (-) to break up thoughts. two apostrophes ('') are used instead of quotation marks (because they dont work in tags). this is also where "tumblr writing style" comes from. we all began to write in lowercase and use punctuation in. a weird way. like. for emphasis. there is also the Tumblr Comma, a special unicode character that resembles a comma and works in tags when copy+pasted or put there with a keyboard shortcut. but this is often not used. here it is: ‚

also here's an example of tags. you will notice that commentary goes before organizational: #GOD DHSHSKDDJDL #i cannot BELIEVE i forgot about this. what the fuck #star trek #spock

when leaving tags, most users talk to themselves. but please remember that tags can be seen by anyone, including the original poster. in general, it is discouraged to traumadump or be rude.

"prev tags" (which tumblr staff is trying their damnest to erase sadly) is when a user reblogs a post from another user and tags it simply ''prev'' or ''prev tags" (meaning "i agree with the previous user's tags"). sometimes it's because a thoughtful observation was made, but usually it's a way of saying "hey! that was a funny joke!" without putting the user on blast by screenshotting the tags. it's most common between friends and mutuals (users following each other). i would say it is equivalent to users whispering to each other and giggling rather than getting up on a table and shouting. "prev tag chain" is when users reblog "prev tags" "prev prev tags" - and so on. however, sadly, tumblr has removed the feature of moving backwards in a reblog chain on desktop. i have not updated my app and refuse to, so i so not know if it is gone on mobile as well, but it probably is. EDIT: the browser extension Xkit Rewritten has an option now, in "tweaks" called "restore links to individual posts in post header." it should be the first option. prev tags, on desktop at least, is saved!

screenshotting someone elses tags and adding the image in a reblog is known as "passing peer review." it is, however, considered to be Greatly Annoying to accompany those tags with unnecessary commentary (ex: "these tags pass peer review!" "WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE THIS IN THE TAGS" "LMAAOO THIS IS SO FUNNYYY"). the tags can stand on their own. the only instance in which this is different is during a serious discussion, when you want to build off of another user's perspective. in which case, you address them as normal. some people credit taggers, some people don't. crediting tends to occur in discussions.

when making an original post, do not use irrelevant tags for Exposure. this is Greatly Hated by the userbase and is also against the TOS. you will get blocked at best, reported or yelled at at worst. only add relevant tags, and do not go overboard.

reposting other people's artwork is highly discouraged and is considered the Highest Offense. if you do any sort of reposting, you should credit and link to a creator directly. however, tumblr loves reposted videos, especially ones from tiktok. there are entire accounts dedicated to posting those.

sideblogs! it is possible to have multiple blogs under one email address. tumblr treats these blogs as proxies of your main blog. this means that sending someone an ask/commenting in the replies of a post will always appear with the name of your main blog, your likes will appear with the name of your main blog, and that if you follow someone you will appear on their followers list as your main blog (so you may be mutuals with someone and not even know it because their sideblog interacts with you, but isn't on your follower's list... because their main blog is listed there instead.) however, DMs DO appear as the sideblog name. you cannot swap your main blog with your sideblog. and right now, there is a bug where deleting a sideblog will delete your entire tumblr account so. don't do that lol. anyway, the amount of sideblogs you can make is literally infinite and i think there's just a Daily Limit of creating 10 of them or something. some users make a sideblog for each interest they have. others have no sideblogs and reblog everything to main. and then you have people like me that do both. somehow. some users will make sideblogs to hoard URLs. also sorry i'm just introducing this now, but that is what our usernames are called. because when tumblr was more desktop-oriented, every blog was literally a Personal Website. so ya. we call them "URLs." anyway, if someone wants to hang onto a URL for later, they might save it on an empty blog. this usually pisses people off. a "canon URL" is when someone has a URL that is like One Word or a Company Name or a Fictional character. hypothetical examples: "ketchup" "burgerking" "lukeskywalker." these are highly rare, coveted, and you look cool as hell if you have one.

tumblr's /\/SFW policy (/\/ is an N. i've censored it.) is best described as ???. posts that are safe for work get marked as /\/SFW and hardcore p0rn somehow persists. in general, be very wary of posting even artistic nvdity (even though it is supposedly permitted.) never deliberately mark your own posts as Mature. this is essentially like walking directly into a bear trap and waving a big sign at tumblr staff saying "hey! make it so people can't find my blog and i'm far more likely to get banned!" also do not tag posts with "/\/SFW." too many of those will get your entire blog marked as mature (which makes your posts pretty much invisible to other users.) tumblr users used /\/SFT (/\/ot safe for tumblr) for a long time, but staff caught on. there is now no consensus and people use their own personal tags for it. just pick something and people will catch on and blacklist it if need be. (btw you CAN type whatever you want on this website. i am only censoring in the hopes that this will allow my post to appear in the tags. this isn't tiktok lol)

while it is possible to disable reblogs on a post, this is a very RECENT addition and most users forget it exists. as such, please use common sense. if someone has written a post about, say, how sad they are feeling because they got in a fight with their family... that's not a good post to reblog. a like would be better here, like a pat on the back.

we LOVE polls. we love them. they are like sports to us. most of them are popularity polls - who is the better character? but people also use polls for, say, making bug emojis "race" each other. or "lets build a cake." other people use polls to write poetry, or learn about regional differences, or even to draw a pen!s. if you tag a poll as "poll" it will most likely be seen and voted in, because users look in the tag to find buttons to click.

there is unfortunately a T3RF (this one censored specifically to protect my notifs lmao. 3 is E) presence here. report, block, ignore, move on. common courtesy for users to inform each other if one is accidentally reblogged from. it also helps to blacklist tags related to them to avoid them. use shinigam! eyes browser extension on desktop.

there is NO equivalent to reddit awards on this website. as the userbase hates the staff, it is considered blasphemous to spend your money on checkmarks, etc. - buying them as a gift for another user is seen as a hostile act. it's like receiving a "kick-me" sign. once owned, badges cannot be deleted. thankfully, tumblr now allows you to disable checkmarks and other badges from appearing publically. that said, some users also give checkmarks unironically to show appreciation??? and others buy checks for themselves???? so yeah. tumblr doesnt actually have a verification system - these exist to mock twitter and to make a quick buck.

tumblr blaze. essentially, tumblr has a system in place to showcase user posts instead of advertisements sometimes. this is done by the user paying money. the higher the amount, the more impressions. tumblr users can now also blaze OTHER PEOPLE'S POSTS. MAKE SURE YOU HAVE BLAZE DISABLED!!! blazing another person's post (without asking first) is seen as a hostile act. why? because most blazed posts result in rude comments from strangers who are annoyed to see the post on their dashboard. unless it's like, a cute picture of a cat. or something genuinely helpful. boosting your soundcloud or a selfie or a rant about fandom does not typically garner positive responses. you can blaze just like. watch out. and also always ask the OP if you want to blaze someone else's post. (there is a reason this feature is called "blaze pvp")

tumblr merch is also frowned upon, as tumblr staff steals ideas from the userbase and profits off of them without financially compensating or crediting the users. there was a meme on here, "vanilla extract", that tumblr turned into water bottles while the person who made the meme was having to fundraise to survive :(

BLOCK. LIBERALLY.

umm i think thats it for now. but like if you have questions feel free to launch them into The Void with some tags and users are pretty quick to help out! hopefully i covered some stuff that other ppl haven't