#THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN ANYTHING I COULD HAVE WRITTEN

[hauntedhokage]

𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣

Xavier/F!Reader (not MC)

word count: 1.8k

warnings: dead dove do not eat, Xavier is a predator and a freak (the way I like him), yan!Xavier, trespassing, noncon, m & f receiving oral, somnophilia, noncon filming/photos, drugging, intoxication, unprotected sex, breeding, literally READ THE WARNINGS

note: this was written in the google doc on mobile at 1am when I couldn’t sleep so…yeah. enjoy

[ao3] [ko-fi]

Xavier had to protect you. 

He’d gradually lost control of his infatuation with you, his neighbor across the hall. Your cute smile and trusting nature pushed him across that borderline into true obsession that he couldn’t keep at bay any longer. He told himself it’s just to look out for you, as a researcher you’re able to defend yourself but just barely since aptitude tests are much more spread out for your section of the Association than his. Someone had to.

He abuses the key he had to your apartment, something given to him once so he could look after your cat while you were at a convention and he’d taken it upon himself to make a copy so he could continue to look out for you better. The key sees use every night, the Deepspace Hunter keeping himself in so he can watch over you in your bedroom and help himself to some of your clothes - he slept better when he was surrounded by your scent and needed to rotate out the clothes he was borrowing. 

As time goes on he gets bolder, taking your wrist in his hand and using it to palm at his cock through his pants and eventually using it to get himself off. Your face looked beautiful decorated with his spend, and he always took a picture to save to a private album to be used later when he wanted to get off but couldn’t get to you. 

A few days later he’s coaxing your mouth open, treating himself to the mouth he fantasized about and losing himself in the sight of your pretty lips wrapped around his cock. That night he returned the favor; crawling into your bed and settling between your spread legs, pulling your panties to the side and indulging in your taste for the first time. You were so sweet, got wet for him so quickly that he could’ve made love to you that night but he held off in fear that your little moans and whines were indicators  that you were waking up. The following morning he’s proud of himself when he overhears you telling your best friend about how vivid your dream had been. 

“It felt so real,” you’d commented, stirring at your coffee as you lean against the counter in the office kitchen. “A hoping for another one.”

“If it’s a side effect of your sleeping pills then you might.” She responded, pointing her own stirring stick at you. “You look so well rested, I hope it does happen again.”

That had cemented that he was helping you, doing you a favor even if you didn’t realize it was him doing it. A labor of love, something that one day he knew he’d be able to provide when you were awake and begging for him to make you cum over and over again. But that would come in due time - you’d already invited him to get drinks with you and your coworkers this weekend. 

And when he’s sitting in the bar with you, he’s having a great time. You were gorgeous when you let loose and enjoyed the company of your friends outside of work - even if he hated the way Andrew was looking at you. A silly crush that wouldn’t see anything come to fruition, but Xavier still finds himself frustrated that another man was looking at you like that. But as you continue to drink what he’d brought you, he relaxes more with the comfort of being that you’d need to be escorted home soon and that was when he could consummate his relationship with you. 

“I think I need to go to bed,” you comment tweet minutes later, leaning into Xavier in an effort to keep your balance. “I’m losing my tolerance”

“That means you need to come out with us more!” One of the women tease, and Xavier laughs as you giggle while waving off the suggestion. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she gets home.” He assures, smile in his face as boss arm finds itself sound your waist. 

“Yep.” Your drunken chirp is cute, he can’t help but smile down at you as you drape his arm around your shoulders. “Xavi lives by me.”

Your colleagues don’t argue, bidding you both a good night and wishing him luck with getting the little drunk home. The additives he’d given you had truly done their job, you were just lucid enough and able to carry a conversation at this point that it didn’t look suspicious at all for him to be sliding into the back seat of the can next to you. His hand settles on your thigh, and you giggle as your hand covers his to keep it there - an invitation for sure, something that he’d wait to capitalize on to make sure the driver didn’t get to see how pretty you were when you kissed. 

You let him help you to your bedroom, dropping onto your bed as he went to your bathroom for a moment. He comes back without a shirt on, something that confuses you but you don’t vocalize it. It’s when his fingers start to unbutton your blouse that you try to push him away, but you’re so weak compared to him and he only chuckles at your pathetic attempt to stop him.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, don’t worry.” 

He’s kissing you now, his hands sliding around to your back to unclasp your bra so he can touch more of you. You don’t kiss back, but your mouth opens and you sit there in shock as he licks into your mouth. “Taste so sweet, I love how you taste. I love everything about you.”

His hand moves to your skirt pulling at the zipper on the side and breaking the one sided kiss to push your skirt down. His fingers trace your slit through your panties, leaving you mortified as how wet you were despite the way he was forcing himself on you. 

“I won’t even need to prep you, I should slide right in.”

“Xavier, no.”

“You going to love it, you were asking for it last night but I wanted you awake for this.”

He might’ve said too much, not that it truly mattered. As time went on the drug’s effects would settle in and you would be truly pliant to him much like you were when you slept and dreamt of him giving you orgasm after orgasm. 

He gets you on your back with your head in your pillows, quickly getting out of his jeans and briefs to meet his cock spring free. It’s long and intimidating, your eyes are glued to it as his hand leisurely strikes it while he gets onto the bed between your legs. Your panties are left on, the fabric pushed to the side as his tip aligns itself with your dripping entrance. 

The stretch is immediate, your eyes closing at the discomfort coupled with the embarrassment at how lewd your juices sounded as he rocked his hips into yours you work hoods length into you. You don’t know how you’re so wet, you don’t think you want to know, all you know is that you mind was unwilling but your body was screaming for Xavier to thanks you right now and it wasn’t fair. 

“Waited so long to get inside you,” he breathes, those blue irises dark with his madness as he bottoms out in your tight pussy. “So tight, waiting for me to mold you to me. Waited so patiently for me to make you mine.”

“Xavier please,” you whimper, your hand weakly coming up to rest on his chest. You felt like you were moving in slow motion and it was horrifying. “Stop please. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“I want you to tell everyone we’re together. You’re mine, always have been.”

Your body feels too heavy to fight him, your arm staying where he’d redirected it to rest on his shoulder as he pulls your legs up to his chest in a mating press. 

“Xav-“

“Shhh.” His thumb presses to your lips, pushing past them and into your mouth to silence you and any dissent you may want to voice. Your pussy was already starting to clench around his cock, abd he was eager to feel you cum around him instead of his fingers. “You’re about to cum for me already, you’re so good to me.”

You whine around his thumb, teeth pressing into the digit as you tight around him some more. You were so petty, sounded so sweet when you came while sleeping, awake you were downright gorgeous as you started into Bo’s eyes with tears welling up in yours. You felt so good you had to cry, he knew that he had to be your soulmate because of that. 

“Gonna give you a baby,” he whispers, kissing your shoulder as you lay limp beneath him. “Gonna tie you to me forever, like you should be. Make you mine, you want that.”

You shake your head, too weak to do anything else as your body begins to betray you once more. He was just so deep, so big, stretching you in all the right ways and stroking every spot inside you and he knew your body was responding the way he wanted it to. You’re too tired to panic, too weak to fight, all you can do is take what he was determined to give you and you hate it. 

“Gonna fill you all night, and tomorrow we’ll tell everyone that we’re together and Andrew can stop looking at you like that. You want to be mine, you wouldn’t let me do this if you didn’t.”

You want to argue, but your mouth is dry and the words won’t come. The pace of his thrusts increase, his hands gripping the pillows on either side of your head and his teeth grit. He was close, and you have no idea what to do because you can’t stop him from finishing inside you.

“Fuck, I’m cumming.” The warning isn’t soon enough, for as soon as the words leave him you’re hit with the feeling of his throbbing cock unloading with the intent of heading directly to your womb. He keeps himself inside you, wanting to make sure not a drop of his cum left you, preparing your drowsy face in kisses as he praises you for how well you took him and how beautiful you’d look pregnant with his baby.

You fall asleep shortly after he rolls into his back, pulling you with him so you’d rest on his chest with his cock still being warned by your full cunt, with his knuckles gently dressing along your spine as he hums a lullaby that lulled you to sleep. 

You wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning, it’d be too easy for him to get you to believe that you were two drunk neighbors who made a drunken decision but he’d love to take you out for breakfast. You might be sore, and he’d apologize profusely for hurting you, but you’d comply because he knew you wanted him just as much as he’d wanted you. 

[armoredsuperheavy]

The Complete Raffles, Annotated (Rebind)

Who is Raffles?

Written by E. W. Hornung, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's brother-in-law, dedicated to ACD, and inspired by the Sherlock Holmes stories, but starring A.J. Raffles, a gentleman of leisure and recreational crime rather than a detective. Accompanied by his admiring friend and narrator, nicknamed "Bunny", mischief is afoot.

It's very shippable, and if you have an interest in historical fiction, Edwardian London, or are a Holmes/Watson fan, you owe it to yourself to check it out.

The Annotated Version

I originally found the annotated stories on the Raffles Redux website and was struck how complete and informative the annotations assembled by Sarah Morrissey and Genevieve L. Morrissey were. In addition to explaining many obscure things the modern reader would otherwise have completely missed, they also collected profuse illustrations from past editions.

I was dismayed that this great addition to the original, public domain Raffles tales was only available (at the time) in this ephemeral form. My reading was greatly enhanced by all these insights into the period and places of the stories. When I recently discovered it was available in an Amazon print on demand edition I immediately bought it.

What a bittersweet experience it was to have the text! Yes! YES! The text is out! In a nice big block with breathing room for the annotations and a handsome typeset at that! What a thoughtful design, but what else should I have expected, considering how well done the annotations were?!

But what was bitter, you ask? Well, that cheap thin cardstock cover, which immediately curled up like Hokusai's Great Wave after I perused 3 pages of the first story. This was infuriating. This book deserves so much better. But! We have the means of production. I couldn't do anything about the "perfect-bound" spine, but i could definitely fix this woefully inadequate cover.

Views of the text, annotations, illustrations.

Let's Rectify This Injustice

I sliced the covers off and removed as much paper from the spine as possible. Scrounged out a moderately "old timey" sheet big enough for endpapers, cut and attached them. Glued mull and an Oxford hollow type kraft paper tube on this bad boy. And then built a case, using the remainder of the endpapers sheet to stretch the book cloth supply.

Then, fortuitously, from the discarded flimsy cover, I was able to salvage the JC Leyendecker portrait of Raffles. This piece was originally done for Collier's magazine, and oozing "late Edwardian cruising". Brother can you spare a light? JCL was a magician.

A sleep overnight in the press and now the complete annotated Raffles (x Bunny of course) finally has the proper treatment, complete with that exquisite side eye right where it deserves to be.

I am Back (ElmoFire.gif)

This is my first finished book project in 4 years. It felt great to get back into it.

I'm finishing up a number of Dead Dove Publishing projects that were partially done when I ground to a halt in summer of 2020. Wish me luck and stay tuned for more...

ArmoredSuperHeavy, 25 Dec 2024

Fanbinding project #162

[berriblossom]

-> "We need more Sagau" your wish is my best command. I did a poll a while back to see who would be next, even though it was Venti/ Zhongli. So i chose Venti. It's just for fun. <-

☆WARNINGS: In all my sagau fics, the reader is referred to as a divine entity or "higher" being in Teyvat AKA, the "Great Divine", religious imagery, religious trauma mentions, insecurities, sexual mentions, nudity, venti shape-shifting, reader's body is androgynous with both masc and fem features. Takes place after Mondstat AQ!☆ ALL PORTRAYALS ARE FICTIONAL AND SO IS THIS WORK!

Venti was never considered himself a "non-believer", often more than anything the nation of wind and song was seen a a pinnacle of holy devoutness and spiritual freedoms thanks to Barbatos's teachings and ballads of the mercy and beauty of the Great Divine. Many classic and old tales have been written over centuries of adoration and loyalty that drifted through the generations of Mondstaters.

"The tale of Barbatos and the shining Stella!" A classic childrens tale depicting how the great divine and the god of wind and song drew the sky and the stars along with it as their own beautiful and loving melody to the people of freedom. A tale of dandelions and stardust.

"Storms Eye, oh heavenly sent flower gifted upon the winds." An epic poem written by Barbatos to the divine love he showered upon the great divine over a century before his slumber.

"Lay, Ol forsaken Feather." An old cathedral ballad sang near the New Break of Dawn and on the dusk of a new year of Teyvat.

All of these, and many more, lay a mark of how much adoration he had for you. He just didn't write and sing these for just "care," he did it out of love. Unspoken, unashamed, and definitely undoubtedly out of love.

Venti loved you. He always has and always will. Even if you rest again for another five centuries, destroy a nation, or even bring forth your original names purpose of creating teyvat. To destory it.

But even so, he could never bring himself, like you, to hate you. You loved all humanity too much and too well.

But unlike you, Venti wasn't a being of all knowledge or craft. He wasn't eons old and could create worlds with a simple blink or wish.

And he isn't the only or "new" archon to announce their love for you.

But his love is older, more mature, more careful. So when you arrived to mondstat, under the great tree at windirse centuries ago, he remains there with a smile and his lyre. Playing a new hymn for you.

His hugs and embrace under your hands make his eyes water, and the tears of love he cries for you are unlike any other.

He loves you, oh so much, it consumes him, his nation, his practice, even his deepest thoughts. Morax used to tease that he is a lovesick fool chasing after hopes and dreams but he knows better.

He knows he will never be the sole archon in your light, but he is still the first. He still knows mondstat is your home, where you come to. No amount of mora, silk, tea, power, celebration can stop it.

To Venti, you are his everything, so even in nothing, you are still there.

-> SO LATE EVERYBODY! SO SORRY!!

[fanfictwins]

SAGAU Liyue - Holiday Special 2024

Summary: “A Christmas surprise party with a Liyuean twist — the perfect gift planned for you by the two young girls who wanted you to feel more at home. How could you NOT have fun with it?”

Word Count: ~10.4k

The pleasant fragrance of mixed herbs, similar to the bunches of purple and white ones held in your arms, hit your nose as you stepped through the doorway of Bubu Pharmacy, the figures of two small girls by your side. With the variety of medicinal herbs stored within its walls, it was no surprise that it smelled great whenever you visited, no matter whether morning, noon, or night.

“Your Grace…? Why, I certainly hope you’re not here because you require my aid?”

Your gaze rose from the herbs to see Baizhu with a smile on his face, subtle surprise etched into his expression. Changsheng matched his gaze, raising her head up to better look at you.

“Oh, I’m fine, doc. I was just helping Qiqi with her wildcrafting.” You lifted your arms up just so, showing off everything you gathered with a proud smile, as the aforementioned zombie raised her own arms up to place the batch of herbs she collected on the counter. “I had to climb along so many cliffs and mountain peaks, but I got ‘em! I didn’t let a single one I saw go unplucked!”

Baizhu seemed to get more surprised, but it quickly melted into a calmer smile. “You needn’t exert yourself like that, Your Grace, but I thank you for your assistance. It’s much appreciated.”

You handed the herbs to Herbalist Gui, who visibly jolted when your hand brushed against his during the exchange. He excused himself so quickly after that he almost tripped and dropped the bundles everywhere, but managed to get away with everything held tightly in his arms and a flustered look on his face. It wasn’t anything that you weren’t already fully used to at this point.

“Aw, there’s no need to be so formal with me. In fact, if you ever need some rare or hard-to-get ingredient, you can always ask me. It’s no trouble at all! I like helping you and Qiqu out, honest.”

“Hmm… then I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Your Grace, you worked really hard today!” Yaoyao piped up, drawing your attention to her and her bright smile. “I think you deserve a break! We can handle anything else that comes up.”

You lightly exhaled. “Huh? I know I said I did a lot, but I’m actually not that tired-”

“I insist! In fact, I’m sure my master would love to sit down and have tea with you. It’s been some time since you’ve personally visited her, right? She still talks a lot about the last time!”

“I… guess I can go see her, then?” You were still smiling, if a bit confused now, but you waved off the four as you began to leave. “I’ll see you all around. Don’t get into too much trouble, ‘kay?”

The moment you were out of sight, down the pharmacy’s stairs, Yaoyao turned to her friend.

“You got everything written down, right?”

“...mmm, yeah.”

The zombie slowly took out her notebook, flipping it open to the newest page, which was filled with scribbles. Her handwriting made it hard to make out some words, but a closer look made most of them legible enough to read; some of the words were bigger than others, emphasizing their importance, but the biggest one was centered almost in the middle — “Christmas”.

Yaoyao smiled brightly, gently taking the notebook out of Qiqi’s hands and holding it up as she looked at it. “Perfect! Now we can make sure to tell everyone about everything we learned!”

“And what’s this about?” Baizhu peered down at the girls from his spot behind the counter. “Scheming behind Their Grace’s back after getting Them to leave? That’s not very nice.”

Changsheng scoffed. “It’s downright rude!”

“It’s for a good reason! Well… sort of.” Yaoyao turned the notebook around to show the doctor its pages. “While we were gathering herbs, Their Grace started telling us about Their home, and They mentioned this one celebration… “Criss-miss”? That’s how They pronounced it. And, They seemed a bit sad when talking, so I’ve decided that we should throw Them a “Christmas party”!”

Qiqi raised her arms in the air, mimicking Yaoyao. “Party…!”

“Oooh…” There was a hint of interest in Baizhu’s smile. “That sounds quite nice.”

“Yeah, and everyone can help make it a big surprise!” Yaoyao closed the notebook and gave it back to Qiqi. “So forgive me, Dr. Baizhu, but I have to borrow Qiqi for a bit. We’ve a lot to plan!”

“Very well, but stay safe, you two!”

The doctor called out as the two girls set out, hand in hand as they took the first step towards their goal — throwing the Divine Creator a surprise “Christmas party” with the other vessels.

- - - - -

There was always one thing on the top of your to-do list whenever you visited Liyue, and that was making a trip to Wanmin Restaurant. Even when the other restaurants tried to catch your attention, you usually passed them by; they weren’t bad at all, by any means, but there was just something about Wanmin that dragged you back in for a meal whenever you were in the harbor.

And Chef Mao never complained about the big boost of business he got after one of your visits.

“Chef Mao!”

You smiled at the man as you approached, the delicious scents wafting from the restaurant’s kitchen already invading your nostrils from half a street away. You were able to identify some of the restaurant’s dishes by scent alone, but there were also new ones you weren’t familiar with.

“Your Grace, it’s an honor!” Chef Mao smiled at you from his spot behind the counter. “Are you having your usual today? I always stock up on extra ingredients whenever I hear you’re around.”

You let out a long hum. “Maybe… but I’m also feeling kind of adventurous today…”

The sight of a familiar panda-esque bear poking his head out around the corner of the doorway to the kitchen cut off your train of thought, your smile reappearing as you turned towards him.

“Oh, Guoba! Hello!”

The bear flinched at being spotted, hurrying back into the kitchen and leaving you staring at the spot he had just been in. You couldn’t ignore the clanging of metal that soon followed from inside the kitchen, before hearing a familiar voice exclaim, “They’re here?! Right now?!”, which in itself was followed by the restaurant’s head chef stumbling out of the kitchen, Guoba on her heels.

Xiangling looked a bit unkempt, dusting herself off before looking at you with a smile.

“Your Grace, it’s an honor!”

Like father, like daughter.

“Xiangling, are you…” You gave her a once-over, taking note of the various splatters of colorful spices and sauces decorating her from head-to-toe, like an abstract art-piece. “...okay?”

Her smile became sheepish as she followed your gaze, looking down at herself briefly before looking back up at you. “Aha… yeah, I was just… surprised you’re here. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Oh… sorry for the surprise. I just wanted to get some lunch.”

Xiangling nodded. “Then I’ll get right on that! The usual?”

“Actually, something smells really good in the kitchen. What’re you cooking?”

“Uh, it’s… um… I’m kind of just working something new out, I…”

Xiangling averted her eyes, her gaze looking at everything but you before it ended up on Guoba, asking him for help. The bear lightly flinched, his own eyes widening as he babbled incoherently.

“Oh, Your Grace.”

The cool tone of Shenhe’s voice cut through the air, cutting off Guoba and almost forcing your attention to shift itself over to her. Her hands held a large wooden crate that leaned against her body, the contents no doubt too heavy for any mere mortal to lift despite the ease at which the woman in front of you was handling it, and you watched as she calmly looked at Xiangling.

“Here. I gathered everything you said you might need for your secret dishes.”

That made you look at Xiangling again. “Oooh, secret dishes?”

The head chef looked ready to pass out, before she quickly shook her head and calmed down.

“W-Well, you see…” Xiangling fidgeted before she sighed, only to perk up moments later as an idea entered her head. “Actually, I could use your help. Yaoyao recently told me that you told her about this thing called “Christmas”...? And she mentioned a few dishes that are supposed to be made for it, but I’m struggling to figure them out since all I’ve got are the names of the dishes.”

“You’re… trying to make Christmas dishes?”

Xiangling nodded. “Yep! Because, you know… it’s food from another world! Your world! I’d really like to learn how to make dishes from your home, Your Grace! I’m sure they’re super tasty!”

That made perfect sense to you.

“You don’t need to be nervous asking for help, Xiangling. I’d be glad to give you a hand.”

“Thank you, Your Grace!”

You ended up sitting down at one of the nearby tables — even though it wasn’t necessarily a quiet hour for business, one table quickly became cleared up once you needed it — after your order was made with Xiangling right by your side, the chef eagerly listening as you told her all about some of the more common Christmas dishes that came to your mind between bites of your lunch. You tried your best to explain the dishes as much as you could, sparing no detail.

The variety was wide, from baked ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, candied sweet potatoes… even if you never personally had some of the dishes you listed out, you still named them and described what you had heard they were like.

“Oh, and there’s usually a roasted turkey.”

Xiangling blinked, an interested glimmer in her eyes. “Turkey?”

“Yeah, it’s… a kind of bird. I don’t think Teyvat has anything quite like them, though… oh!” You raised your utensils up, pointing at Xiangling. “There’s this one dish called a “Turducken” that some people have, where you stuff a chicken into a duck, then stuff that duck into a turkey.”

“So it’s a… three-bird roast?”

“Yep!”

“That sounds interesting… and I could do the chicken and duck part, but without a turkey…”

“I think some people use a goose instead of a turkey.” You lightly tapped your chin with your utensils. “Even in my world, turkeys are only available and easy to obtain in certain areas.”

Xiangling thought for a moment, before a smile returned to her face and she nodded.

“Alright, I think I can do that… no, I definitely can do that! I’ll make the best Christmas dishes ever! I can’t wait to try them myself! Thank you so much for all of your help, Your Grace!”

“It’s no problem.” You laid your utensils down on your empty dish, wiping your mouth off with a napkin before you stood up. “I just hope you allow me to taste-test them when you’re done.”

Xiangling let out a slight laugh, looking away nervously. “Y-Yeah, of course you’ll be able to!”

You gave Shenhe a word of thanks as she collected your empty lunch dishes, and gave Chef Mao and Xiangling a hearty wave goodbye as you left, only making it past the neighboring shop before a horde of people rushed by you. You glanced over your shoulder to see them all queuing up at the restaurant, and sighed from knowing that you were the sole reason for the lunch rush.

Xiangling loudly exhaled the moment you were out of sight, her whole body relaxing at the same time. Guoba copied her movements, before smiling up at the young girl and babbling briefly.

“Shenhe!” Xiangling’s cheeks puffed out a bit as she looked up at the tall woman. “Please be more careful! I’m lucky I was able to get some advice out of it and that Their Grace didn’t catch onto the plan, but it would’ve been super bad if They found out! It would’ve ruined the surprise!”

Shehne blinked. “...ah, my apologies, but I did state that your new dishes are a secret, didn’t I?”

“You’re not supposed to say that it’s a secret out loud!”

“Ahem, Xiangling! Shenhe! I could use a little help here!”

The two ladies — and Guoba — looked over to see Chef Mao overwhelmed at the restaurant’s counter. They could hear most of the customers asking for “what the Divine Creator ordered”.

“Sorry, dad! We’ll be right on it!”

Xiangling and Guoba hurried back into the kitchen, the clanging of metal starting up again as they began to prep food to serve, and Shenhe returned to the dining area to clean the tables so that some of the customers would have a place to sit when dining on the day’s “popular dish”.

Chef Mao sighed. “...and this is why I make sure to order extra ingredients.”

- - - - -

Even with many pairs of eyes staring at you for almost the entire time you were passing by, walking around Liyue Harbor was usually a peaceful and pleasant experience; the stares you received from the locals were mostly of awe, and they never tried to get into your actual space, instead always keeping a respectful distance that allowed your walk to go without a hindrance.

But those were just the behaviors of the normal folk.

Your vessels were of a completely different sort.

“Your Grace…!”

You had been strolling near the docks, admiring the ships out at sea, only to look in front of you to see Xinyan — who had called out to you — and Yun Jin coming to a stop before you. The two had to take a minute to catch their breath, Xinyan even having to place her hands on her knees.

“Xinyan? Yun Jin?” You looked between the two performers with a concerned frown on your lips, your eyebrows furrowed. “Are you two alright? Why were you running? Is something wrong…?”

The rocker stood up straight with a smile on her face, shaking her hands out as she shook her head. “It’s nothing bad, Your Grace. Whew, I just finished up a real blazin’ performance, so-”

“Halt!”

Your head swiveled in the direction of the shout, seeing the two girls follow suit from the corner of your eye, just to see a couple of Millelith soldiers with gazes solely focused on Xinyan. They came to a stop next to you and the performers, not having to catch their breath like the latter.

The rocker frowned. “Shoot.”

The two soldiers stared Xinyan down, one tapping his polearm on the ground. “Miss Xinyan, you have been charged with multiple fire code violations. You can’t just keep running away from us.”

“The only thing that got burned was the stage I built myself…”

“That’s not an excuse. Someone still could have gotten hurt.”

“Oh, okay… that makes sense.” You smiled at Xinyan. “You were running from the law, huh?”

The sound of your voice, your tone a bit amused, made the soldiers finally take notice of your presence, and the way they were taken aback to realize that it was you made your smile grow just a little bit more. Their eyes went wide, and they seemed to lose any and all strength in their stances — if only for a moment before they corrected themselves, their faces now a light pink.

“Ack- the Divine Creator?”

The soldiers fumbled with their weapons before bowing to you.

“Forgive us for not acknowledging you, Your Grace. It was rude of us!”

“It’s not a big deal, guys. You two are just doing your jobs, focusing on handling crime-”

Your attention briefly shifted itself back to Xinyan, who was clearly trying to tell you something through just her gaze and body posture. Her head made wide turns as she looked between you and the Millelith soldiers, the sparkle in her eyes conveying a plea as dramatic as a rock opera.

“BUT…! You can leave Xinyan to me.”

The rocker pumped a fist at your words, smiling wide once you received her signal.

“I’m sure you have more important matters that take precedence over this situation? I can make sure that Xinyan receives a punishment befitting her fire code violations. Consider it dealt with.”

The soldiers blinked a few times, before glancing at each other.

“Is… is that allowed?”

“It’s the Divine Creator. They should be able to handle it… right?”

They looked back at you after a quiet moment of deliberation amongst themselves, giving you a nod in affirmation. “Very well. We shall leave this matter in your capable hands, Your Grace.”

You continued to smile as you watched the soldiers hesitantly leave, casting glances over their shoulders at you before they disappeared out of your sight, before you looked at the performers.

“...I’m surprised that that worked. I didn’t think they’d accept that I have any authority for this.”

“But it’s a good thing it did!” Xinyan smiled. “Thanks for helping me out, Your Grace!”

Yun Jin hummed as her head tilted. “What kind of punishment would you even give Xinyan?”

You thought for a moment, putting a finger on your chin, before you smiled again.

“Eternal banishment?”

“Aw, shucks.” Xinyan continued to smile brightly, even as faux disappointment laced itself into her voice and a small chuckle escaped her lips. “Ain’t that just a bit too harsh, Your Grace?”

You snorted, rolling your eyes before focusing on the rocker again. “I suppose so. Just be more careful, okay? I doubt you’d actually end up hurting someone during a performance, but still.”

“Since you’re the one saying to, Your Grace…”

You shared another small laugh with Xinyan before noticing Yun Jin perk up, her eyes widening as if she had just had a sudden thought, and you found her red eyes looking right into your eyes.

“Oh, Your Grace, if you have the time, we actually require some of your help-”

“Well, now, what’s with all the commotion here?”

With the suddenness of a cheap indie jumpscare, a familiar figure popped up from between your little trio, springing onto her feet with her usual smile plastered on her face. The question of when she had snuck so close was wholly forgotten as Xinyan, Yun Jin, and you reacted appropriately.

“Wha- Hu Tao!” You clutched a hand to your chest. “Are you trying to give us all heart attacks?”

“Oh, no, no no! It’s far too early for you three!” The unwavering smile of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor director did little too soothe you, especially when she winked. “But… if you’re ever feeling unwell, Your Grace, I hope you’ll choose our humble business to make your exit a smooth one!”

“Director Hu, I highly doubt Their Grace will require our services anytime in the near future.”

“Hehe, you can never know~!”

The director was, of course, accompanied by the parlor’s consultant. His golden gaze moved from his boss to you, a hint of fondness softening the stoic expression displayed on his face.

“Zhongli!” You smiled at the sight of the consultant, Yun Jin and Xinyan greeting him with a bow and a wave respectively. “Am I to assume you two are currently on another advertising kick?”

“Yep, yep!” Hu Tao nodded. “New clients are always guaranteed, but we still must make sure all potential clients know exactly where all their farewell needs will be dealt with the proper respect.”

You hummed before looking at Zhongli. “And how many future clients have you two convinced?”

“The director… managed to get plenty of attention towards our business.”

Hu Tao playfully laughed. “Hey now, only time will tell how many clients take up our offer.”

You snorted and shook your head. “You… are certainly a handful, Hu Tao.”

“Mmm-hmm! But enough about me! What’s been going on with you three? While passing by, I couldn’t help but notice that you three all seemed to be having quite an interesting time together.”

“Just saving Xinyan from the Millelith, I suppose- oh!” You swiveled on your heel to face Yun Jin once more. “Right, you were asking for my help with something? What do you need from me?”

Yun Jin perked up again, seeming to remember she was about to request something before the shock of the funeral parlor’s staff arrival interrupted her, and nodded. “That’s right, Your Grace. I was just going to ask you about… I believe it’s called “Christmas” music? Yaoyao told us about it recently, and we were interested in learning more about it. We hoped that you’d help with that.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah!” Xinyan sported a brief look of confusion on her face before she also nodded, a smile appearing on her lips. “It sounds mighty interesting, Your Grace! I’d love to learn enough to perform music from your world! I’m sure there're plenty of rockin’ tunes you could tell us about.”

It took you a moment to process what they had said.

“You guys… want to learn about Christmas music?”

“Oooh!” Hu Tao leaned over your shoulder. “Music from Their Grace’s world? Count me in!”

Your gaze moved between the three ladies — the rocker, the opera singer, and the poet — who all stared back at you with interested gazes, before it flickered over to Zhongli, whose demeanor was more alert than it usually was around you… which you honestly should have expected; that he of all people would be interested in learning more about you in any capacity was no surprise.

“Uh… I guess I can teach you guys the songs I know? But don’t expect me to write down any of the melodies or anything. I have no skills in musical notation, especially if it’s just from memory.”

Xinyan waved her hand in dismissal. “You can just sing them for us, Your Grace.”

“Wha- wait, what? Me, sing?”

“To hear the Divine Creator sing…” Zhongli mused to himself, arms crossed with a finger held up to his chin. “...that would be quite the honor. It would make Glaze Lilies full-bloom, no doubt.”

You let out a weak laugh. “I-I’m not too sure about that…”

“Aw, come on, come on!” Hu Tao grabbed onto your shoulder, leaning in even closer, her face inches from your own. “Some people would find the chance to hear you sing worthy to die for!”

You took in a sharp inhale as you practically felt the hopes and expectations emitting from the four people around you, and eventually let out a long sigh, your shoulders coming to a slump.

“...fine, but how about we all go somewhere… not so public first?”

- - - - -

The two blue-haired boys in front of you each had a different expression on their face, one of which was a look of concern — though he was clearly trying to keep himself cool at the same time — while the other was fighting to hide the subtle hints of a smirk creeping onto his lips.

Your own face was a perfect display of confusion. “I… I’m sorry? What is this about?”

“Your Grace, I’ve heard rumors of a… a “Christmas” demon! But I’m unfortunately without any knowledge on what type of fiend it may be. I’m going to require your assistance to exorcise it.”

You stared at the young exorcist in front of you for a few seconds before looking to the second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild, catching him hiding his laughter and disguising a snort that escaped as a cough with a closed fist over his mouth, and you slowly furrowed your eyebrows.

…that explains it.

“Well-” You looked at Chongyun again. “-the only Christmas “demon” I know of is “Krampus”.”

Chongyun raised a hand to his chin. “Such a sinister name… please, can you tell me everything you know about it? I must know as much as I can about the fiend in order to be able to stop it.”

“It kind of depends on who you ask, but, basically, Krampus is a demon who punishes naughty children around the time Christmas is celebrated. You know… the kind of children who cause a lot of trouble for other people, who misbehave and don’t play nice, who lie for no good reason.”

You glanced at Xingqiu, who had gone still with an almost worried smile at your expression.

“He’s covered in dark hair, has horns and hooves and fangs, and a long pointed tongue — oh, and he carries around chains, I think? Sometimes with bells. The punishments he doles out on bad children are stuff like swatting them on the butts with branches… or snatching them away in a basket to who-knows-where. To drown them or eat them… or something along those lines.”

“That… that’s horrible!” Chongyun appeared to actually get a bit heated as you spoke, his hands clenching into tight fists in front of his chest. “I must make sure to stop it before it hurts anyone!”

“Whoa there, Chongyun. Calm down and have a popsicle, ‘kay?” You let your lips curve up into a smile, and put a hand on the exorcist’s shoulder. “Krampus sure is a horrible guy and all… but he’s also fictional; just a character that parents tell their children about to make them behave, to teach them lessons about being nice and stuff. He’s not actually real — well, not that I know of, anyway — and, even if he was, he wouldn’t be anywhere in Teyvat. He’d be stuck in my world.”

Chongyun’s breathing was heavy, his face already flushed, but he managed to take one of his popsicles out and bite into it to calm himself. “Ugh, Your Grace… you could’ve started with that.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” You let go of Chongyun’s shoulder. “But how’d you even hear about Krampus? I don’t think I’ve told anyone about him before right now with you two.”

“Xingqiu told me about it.”

The guilty party put his hands up in defense as you looked at him. “H-Hey, I was just having a little fun. I honestly had no idea that there was actually a demon associated with Christmas.”

“An unlucky guess then, huh?” You paused for a moment. “...but how’d you even hear about Christmas? Did Yaoyao tell you about it too? It seems like the talk of the harbor nowadays…”

That innocent line of questioning had a greater chilling effect than his popsicle, it seemed, as Chongyun froze at the moment. Xingqiu stepped in and quickly pushed his friend aside, your hand leaving the exorcist’s shoulder to linger in the air. “She did inform us of it, yes. It sounds like a quaint holiday, so it makes sense that a child such as herself would want to tell everyone she knows about it. I admit, it has even perked my interest too, from everything I’ve been told.”

“...huh, that’s nice. I’m glad everyone seems to be enjoying the concept.”

There was something off about all this, but not in a bad way, so you brushed it off for now.

Xingqiu nodded as he continued to smile at you happily. “But now that that’s settled, we should get going. I’m sure you’ve got a busy schedule, Your Grace. We wouldn’t want to hold you up.”

Chongyun blinked, coming back to reality. “Ah, wait-”

“Tsk, Chongyun, you’re still all red. You should have another popsicle.”

The exorcist didn’t get a chance to speak again before Xingqiu stuffed another tasteless frozen treat into his mouth, the latter then hurriedly pushing his flustered friend away down the street.

“It was pleasant to speak with you, Your Grace!”

The two boys soon disappeared into the distance, leaving you standing there alone.

“Uh… bye, I guess?”

- - - - -

Another day, another surprise.

You blinked a few times, making sure that the lady you were looking at was actually there. You didn’t exactly have a history of having hallucinations, but everything had been… bizarre this last week or so, and it wouldn’t hurt you to just check that you were still all there up in your noggin.

“Lady Ningguang?”

“Your Grace, what a pleasant surprise.”

The Tianquan was calm, politely greeting you with a soft smile on her lips, a smile reserved for you and you alone. Her being was a living display of high-class status, the epitome of luxury…

…and she was currently just hanging out at the docks.

You were not someone who could criticize her for it, though; for some people, it was odd for you to be hanging around Liyue Harbor’s docks so casually, as no one really expected to see one of the gods they worshiped watching the ships or examining the goods of incoming, docked ships.

“Uh… so, what’re you doing here? Taking in the ocean breeze?”

Ningguang chuckled. “I simply have business to discuss with Beidou. It’s nothing of concern, but is important enough that I have decided to come see her myself as soon as she arrives.”

“Wait, the Alcor is docking soon?” You perked up, your gaze glancing between the water and Ninguang, who looked at the water herself. “Wow, my timing’s great! Mind if I wait with you?”

“I’d see it as an honor, Your Grace.”

You got into position beside Ningguang, leaning forward slightly as you looked out at the ships sailing across the nearby waters. The operation at the harbor was always so smooth, orderly, and satisfying — you were embarrassed to admit how much time you had spent just lingering around the docks whenever you visited Liyue, being a bystander to the comings and goings of the ships and the people working here. This time, however, you were trying to focus on spotting the Alcor among the other seacraft, assuming its distinct design would stand out among them.

The moment was quiet, aside from the waves and workers, until Ningguang spoke again.

“Your Grace, I’m planning to do a bit of decorating around the Jade Chamber.”

“Oh?”

“I was thinking about adding a tree.”

You paused for a few seconds, before slowly looking at Ningguang. “A… tree?”

“Yes, a tree. Would you have any suggestions for the type?”

Wow.

You suddenly forgot about every tree you have ever known about.

“Ah, hmm… well, it’s your Jade Chamber. You should choose whichever tree you prefer. I know you’ve got good taste, and will be able to fit anything you choose into your amazing aesthetics.”

“I should choose, you say…? Very well.”

You soon settled back into a comfortable silence, continuing to wait on the docks with subdued excitement pumping through your veins, before finally catching the sight of the Alcor making its way over to the docks. It took a while for the ship to actually dock, having to navigate around the multiple others nearby, but the moment that it had, Ningguang and you made your way over to it.

You passed by some of the crew members unloading various types of cargo, before seeing the captain of the ship walk down the gangplank, who smiled when she saw you and the Tianquan.

“The Tianquan AND Their Grace are here to greet me? Something serious must be up, huh?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that!” You smiled. “I just got lucky to be here as you got back.”

“Haha, you flatter me, Your Grace. I’d typically consider myself the lucky one.”

Ningguang shook her head just slightly, her expression more reserved than yours. “Although it’s not of any major concern, I do have something to discuss with you, Captain Beidou. Shall we?”

“Huh, alright.”

Beidou gave you a nod as she walked off with Ningguang to talk, the two women leaving you on your own. You found yourself curious about what they could be talking about, but figured it would be rude to try and eavesdrop or force yourself into the conversation; that, and your attention was finding itself quickly caught by something — or, rather, someone — else that you noticed nearby.

“Kazuha!”

The lips of the wandering samurai turned up into a smile after he heard you call out to him, your form practically bouncing over to him. His eyes followed your movements as he turned to you.

“Greetings, Your Grace.” He gave you a polite nod. “You appear to be in good spirits.”

You waved your hand to the side, before letting it fall to your side in a loose fist. “Aw, I’m always happy to see you. It’s probably impossible to not be; actually, no, it definitely is impossible.”

Kazuha let out a soft chuckle, his shoulders bouncing with the tiniest movements. “Your words today are as warm as the mid-afternoon sun, Your Grace. I’m glad. How have you been lately?”

“Mmm… normal, I guess. Though it feels like something fishy is going on around the harbor.”

“Oh…?”

You held back a snicker. “Get it? Fishy? But, really, I feel like something’s up.”

“That’s troubling. I can lend you my assistance if you desire?”

“Huh? Oh, no!” You waved your hands in front of yourself, your eyes widening just a bit as you continued to smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing big, and, besides, I wouldn’t want to bog down our time together with worries. I don’t see you often enough since you’re always on the road, traveling.”

“Ah, of course. If you’d like to hear it, I’ve come up with some new poetry since we last met.”

“Oooh! Then go ahead and bless my ears, Kazuha.”

The hustle and bustle of the docks faded away as you chatted with Kazuha, intently listening to each and every one of the poetic words falling from his mouth. You even tried coming up with a few poems yourself, but it was difficult to do it on the fly; the praise Kazuha gave your attempts kept you from being discouraged, though some of the metaphors you tried to use felt a lot more poetic in your mind than when you said them out loud. You were in the middle of thinking up how to describe a certain line in your next masterpiece when you realized a lot of time had passed.

You felt a presence approach from the side, and looked up to see Beidou standing there.

Ningguang was nowhere to be found when you gave your surroundings a quick once-over, her elegant presence absent from the nearby crowds, and that meant she must have left long ago.

The captain looked between you and Kazuha, her smile apologetic when her gaze stopped on you. “Sorry, Your Grace, but I have something to talk about with Kazuha. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Hmm? Oh, well… that’s fine. I should probably be going anyhow. See you around!”

You bid the two farewell, seeing them respond in kind, and started walking away from them.

Beidou kept her eye on you until you were completely gone, and she turned to Kazuha.

“Okay, so, there’s this thing called “Christmas”...”

- - - - -

“Please accept my offering, o’ great adeptus, and bless me with your presence this quiet night.”

“...you don’t have to do that, Your Grace.”

The evening air was cool, gentle breezes rolling in from the distance and brushing against you where you stood on the highest balcony in Wangshu Inn. The lanterns from inside and hanging by the doorway cast a warm glow outwards, giving the balcony a cozy atmosphere despite how it faced the dark landscapes of Bishui Plain, the warm hues of the land hidden within shadows.

Your hands held tightly onto a plate of Almond Tofu — expertly and lovingly crafted by your own hands, you were proud to admit — as you smiled at the familiar figure that appeared before you, the sight of the inn’s resident adeptus never failing to bring you joy. The dim lighting made it hard to tell, as well as his usual distant demeanor, but you swore that he was looking a little flustered.

“Aww, why not? Everyone else does it.”

Xiao crossed his arms over his chest. “But you’re not “everyone else”.”

“Hmph.” You pouted, extending your arms out to present the Almond Tofu to him. “Here, you can at least take this. I made it special, just for you. I worked hard to learn the recipe, from the best.”

He stared down at the plate in your hands for a few seconds, before he slowly uncrossed his arms and carefully took it from you. The adeptus continued to stare at the food you prepared while you stared at him, the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks — you internally cursed to yourself about the lack of decent lighting in this moment — before he finally took the first bite.

You spent just a moment watching Xiao carefully savor your expert culinary craftsmanship, and then looked out at the water and shadowed silhouettes of the nearby mountains, leaning yourself against the wooden railing of the balcony. The wood was cold and rough within your tight grip.

“...you know, everyone’s been acting really strange lately. Not in a bad way, but still.”

Your lips parted as you sighed, adjusting your arms to have your elbows on the railing.

“Even the other adepti are being weird. I tried to visit Cloud Retainer in Liyue Harbor, but Shuyu told me that she was really busy, even though she’s normally willing to take a break to chat with me whenever I drop by. Don’t even ask me how the other two are doing, I spent a good amount of time looking around their domains but wasn’t able to find them. It just feels like… like I’m being left out of something; like everyone is hiding something from me. Something that feels… major.”

You turned your head to look at Xiao. “Would you have any idea why?”

The adeptus briefly paused, his gaze meeting yours after having seemingly moved to you while you were talking, before wiping off the almond tofu around his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I…”

He hesitated, his eyes shifting away from you.

- - -

“As one of the Divine Creator’s vessels, you HAVE to come.” Hu Tao had a wide smile on her lips, her hands clenched together into tight fists in front of her chest. “Besides, it’ll be totally fun!”

The adeptus looked uncertain, his gaze shifting to the man accompanying the funeral director.

Zhongli met Xiao’s eyes with a soft smile, giving him a nod as well. “Indeed. Their Grace seems to also be quite fond of this “Christmas” business. It would be a shame if you did not participate.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Hu Tao nodded frantically, bouncing into the space between the adeptus and her consultant to direct the attention back to herself. “Come on…! It’ll only be the other vessels and adepti there. There’s no need to be all cautious and standoffish about it, so what do you say…?”

Xiao still looked conflicted, his eyebrows furrowed, before soon letting out a sigh.

“...very well. For the Divine Creator’s sake.”

Hu Tao clapped her hands. “Yay!”

“Just make sure to keep it a secret from Their Grace, if you end up encountering Them before then.” Zhongli looked pleased with Xiao’s answer, although he was much calmer than his boss was. “It’s supposed to be a “surprise party”, so try to avoid spoiling its existence at all costs.”

The adeptus nodded, crossing his arms.

“Got it.”

- - -

You couldn’t say for sure what exactly was going on inside Xiao’s head, but the expression on his face made it look like he was having some kind of internal war with himself, a struggle with the proverbial “rock and a hard place” that left him not looking forward to picking either option he was presented with. This was probably the most readable his feelings had ever been to anyone.

“Uh… hey, you don’t have to answer, Xiao.”

The adeptus appeared to snap back to reality, blinking as he looked at you.

You slightly smiled as you pushed yourself off of the railing. “I can kind of assume what’s going on. I just wanted to make sure that I wasn't going crazy and seeing something out of nothing.”

Xiao’s lips parted, the softest exhale leaving them. “...I can’t lie to you, Your Grace.”

“Then just don’t say anything.”

You winked at him, your tongue sticking out from your lips. “And you should be busy eating the Almond Tofu I made you, anyways. It’s rude to speak while your mouth’s full, don’tcha know?”

Xiao briefly glanced back down at the plate in his hands, before he nodded.

“...okay.”

- - - - -

“Your presence is requested at the Jade Chamber.”

That was what you were told, but you weren’t able to think of any important reason of why that might be. You had always made sure to greatly distance yourself to the extreme from anything major regarding Liyue’s leadership — no political decision-making or “ruling with an iron fist” for you, even if some folks acted like your word was the single most important thing in all of Teyvat.

The Yuheng and the general secretary both knew that about you very well.

“Is… it for something important? Or does Ningguang just want to, like… play chess with me?”

Ganyu and Keqing shared a brief look with each other, before the former looked back at you, a bit of a nervous frown now on her lips. “It’s… nothing bad, but you should go see for yourself.”

“Here.” Keqing gestured for you to follow after her. “We can escort you.”

You looked down at Keqing’s hand for just a moment, before everything clicked.

The stranger-than-usual behavior of everyone lately… the random-but-very-frequent mentions of Christmas… and now you being requested to such a place as the Jade Chamber practically out of the blue. You even thought about how you couldn’t find a single one of the vessels around the harbor today, despite how you walked through the entire city front-to-back and back-to-front and side-to-side, checking each and every nook and cranny with the hope of finding someone.

You smiled.

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I can get us there quicker.”

You grabbed Keqing’s outstretched hand, the warm hue of her face matching Ganyu’s after you had grabbed the half-qilin’s hand too. Your grip was gentle but firm as you stood between them.

“You- Your Grace…”

“H-Hey, wait-!”

Within seconds, you heard the familiar teleporting sound resonate inside your head before you and your two current companions were warped up onto the platform of the Jade Chamber…

…only to hear a muffled thud accompanying a sudden cold, wet sensation that landed on you.

It felt like a worse version of getting an ice cube put down the back of your shirt.

The powdery substance slid off of the upper-half of your face after you blinked your eyes a few times, which revealed to you that what had just covered you was a thick blanket of snow, and it had also trapped Keqing and Ganyu, turning you three into vaguely self-shaped snow mounds.

You were completely befuddled at this situation.

Snow? At this time of year, in this part of Liyue, localized entirely within the Jade Chamber?

You attempted to shift around, eventually managing to catch sight of the cause of the surprise snowfall. There was a strange machine that almost resembled a snowblower from your world, water being poured into one end and snow coming out of an upwards-chute-like exit located on the other end. The snow coming out now fell softly to the ground, unlike what had just hit you.

The one who created the device crossed her arms, pushing her glasses up slightly.

“Hmph. If the Divine Creator wishes for it to snow, then one shall make it snow.”

“Wow, Aunty Cloud Retainer! You’re amazing!”

Yaoyao looked up at the adeptus with awe, clapping her hands with a bright smile.

You continued to look around — as much as you could in your new form as a snowman — and saw several others lingering about the area, all of which had been mysteriously missing today.

The musicians and performers were all gathered near a small stage that had been set up, doing last-minute checks and practice from what you could tell. You took a few moments to take in the sight of it before you snapped out of your thoughts and focused to hear them through the snow.

Gaming shook his hands out, Man Chai following his lead and shaking his whole body out. “Aha, I’ve been practicing for days and everything, but I’m still getting so nervous all of a sudden…”

“Pre-show jitters, huh?” Xinyan stood on the stage, fiddling with her guitar as she looked down at the Wushou dancer with a slight, unsure smile. “Can’t help but have them myself right now too.”

Yun Jin walked across the stage, her head tilted up to check the decorations hanging up. “Their Grace is so kind, there shouldn’t be any reason to worry… but I can understand the feeling.”

“Hey, hey, just don’t get so nervous you have a heart attack.” Hu Tao had the only smile near the stage free of hesitation. “The business would be nice, but it would be way too inconvenient now.”

There was another section where a buffet had been laid out, Xiangling hovering over the spread with her gaze flickering around to all the various dishes, almost like she was looking for anything that needed any last-minute adjustments made. Guoba stood on a chair next to the chef, putting his paws on the edge of the table as he looked between the dishes and at her with a happy aura.

“I had to make a few guesses here and there about the recipes, even with the advice from Their Grace…” Xiangling furrowed her brows before letting out a sigh. “I hope They like everything.”

“I’m sure They will.” Madame Ping had a gentle smile on her face as she glanced at the food the young chef had prepared. “It all looks and smells absolutely wonderful, there’s no doubt about it.”

Beidou nodded and chuckled. “Now, this is what I call a feast! You outdid yourself, Xiangling!”

“It all sure looks… interesting.”

Yanfei tilted her head, her eyes moving down along the long buffet table as she spoke.

“I… I’m having trouble making out what some of these dishes are, though.”

Xiangling smiled at the reassurances. “Oh, don’t worry. I can explain everything, if you’d like.”

Your attention, however, was soon captured by the main centerpiece of the whole occasion: a beautiful Sandbearer tree decorated with lanterns of all colors, all organized to create the most breathtaking sight you had seen all day. There were actually a lot of lanterns hanging around all over, now that you were conscious of their presence; it almost resembled Lantern Rite, in a way.

Well, a Lantern Rite that was being held on a very miniature scale.

“This is very pleasant.” Kazuha looked up at the tree, his hand over his chest. “I never imagined that a “Christmas tree” would look like this. It brings to the mind a kaleidoscope of Crystalflies.”

Ningguang had her arms crossed, also standing nearby to admire the tree she had put up and decorated to a degree befitting her luxurious aesthetics. “I was informed that the tree was to be decorated in lights and ornaments. I believe Their Grace will be quite pleased with the result.”

“Their Grace has some intriguing traditions from Their world.” Zhongli placed a hand to his chin in thought, his eyes briefly breaking away from the tree. “No wonder They spoke of it so highly.”

By this point, you were getting cold. Way too cold. So cold you felt stiff.

You shook the snow off as you took in a deep breath.

“Okay, that was an experience…”

“Your Grace?!”

You felt two dozen pairs of eyes land on your form as everyone’s head snapped towards your direction, the sound of your voice might as well having been a siren to their ears — your arrival had been expected to be normal, after taking the long route instead of the shortcut you chose to take instead, with some semblance of warning. You smiled bashfully, pulling a now-unconscious Ganyu and Kequing out of their snow piles since you were still holding their hands all this time.

“Hehe… guess I’m not the only one surprised at this surprise party, then?”

- - - - -

Today was the day you discovered how good Guoba and Man Chai made for living Warmies, your once-shivering and soaked body able to warm up and dry off after only a short but sweet cuddle session with them. The party couldn’t start until you were comfortable, after all… as well as until Keqing and Ganyu finally regained consciousness and also got themselves warmed up.

…and the start was unforgettable.

“Behold, Your Grace-”

Truly unforgettable.

“-for one has donned the appearance of a Christmas hero spoken of in tales from your home.”

There, standing in front of you, were some of the adepti, and although the three ladies and Xiao were in their human forms at the party, the other two men were not. That included Moon Carver, the one who had spoken to you first when they approached, who proudly stood in front of you in his stag form… with a glowing red nose — likely made possible by adepti magic, you assumed.

You briefly recalled telling Yaoyao and Qiqi about some stories related to Christmas, which, of course, included “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”. Turning slightly away for a moment, you raised a hand to cover the smile slowly growing on your lips as you tried to calm yourself down.

“Yeaaah…” Your voice wavered, you being unable to stop your eyes glancing to and from Moon Carver. “Christmas would’ve been cancelled if not for Rudolph. He’s a… a true hero, alright…”

The snort that slipped from your lips went unnoticed by Moon Carver, the adeptus preening at your approval. The planned festivities luckily continued on before you actually started laughing.

- - - - -

They had only had about a week to prepare, but the musical performance was probably one of the, if not the, best thing you had ever witnessed in your life; most everyone had gathered into a crowd in front of the stage as Xinyan, Hu Tao, and Gaming took their places in the spotlight. You were almost too enamoured with the show to notice how Yun Jin occasionally snuck a couple of glances at you from her spot in the crowd next to you, a smile growing on her lips at your own.

The musicians had taken the songs that you told — or, rather, sang to — them and used them as inspiration to come up with a brand-new Christmas song, complete with Xinyan’s rock guitar and Hu Tao’s iconic rapping. Gaming had even created a special routine to go along with all of it.

“Bravo!” You clapped your hands frantically after the performance finished, a whoop escaping your lips as you cheered. “That was… incredible! I loved it! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

The sense of relief that left the performers’ bodies was noticeable, their forms relaxing as your praise finally casted away all of the tension that had plagued them from their pre-show nerves.

“I��m glad, Your Grace.” Yun Jin smiled. “We only had so much time, but we worked really hard.”

“I can tell.” Your cheeks hurt a little from how much you were smiling, and you tilted your head. “I hope I get to see it again someday. That was way too good to be just a one-time performance.”

Gaming let out a chuckle, a sense of weariness in his tone. “I’d be happy to dance for you again, Your Grace. Just… I still need a moment to calm down from the excitement of the first time.”

“Oh-ho! But I’m ready for round two right now!” Hu Tao pumped her fists as she snickered. “I knew Their Grace couldn’t resist my excellent rhyming skills! I could do this all day, any day!”

Xinyan adjusted her grip on her guitar as she looked back at the stage they performed on. “Uh, I think we may have gone a little overboard with the pyrotechnics, though… even for me, heh…”

You followed the rocker’s gaze to the stage, seeing that it… kind of didn’t exist anymore, with all that remained being a stage-shaped pile of charred wood. Given that three Pyro users had used it for their performance, where they had turned up the heat to give you the show of a lifetime, you should have expected this, especially considering Xinyan’s track record with this sort of thing.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, okay, I think one performance is enough for today, then.”

- - - - -

“Wow, I didn’t know you had such an appetite, Your Grace.”

Xiangling’s eyes were wide as she looked at your plate, which was piled high with servings from the buffet. There was a little of everything, as you wanted to try all of the different dishes that had been prepared by the chef; some looked traditional, and very close to what you had described to her about, while others clearly had creative choices made during their creation. There were also some traditional Liyue dishes being offered — considering how many people were present at the party, Xiangling really made sure that there would be enough food for everyone to have their fill.

You held your plate carefully in front of you. “I can’t help it. Everything looks so good.”

It appeared that many others also held the same opinion, almost everyone filling up their plates with various dishes from the buffet. There were plenty of options; everyone could eat something.

“What is this…?” Ganyu observed a red jam-like substance in one of the bowls, tapping it gently with the small spoon that was provided for folks to scoop it. “It smells like some kind of fruit…?”

“Ah, that’s Valberry sauce!” Xiangling piped up and moved over to the half-qilin. “Their Grace mentioned a dish made with this type of berry called a “Cranberry”, so I had to find a similar substitute. You should be able to eat it, Miss Ganyu. It doesn’t contain any animal products.”

“What I’m more interested in is that!” Beidou pointed to what-could-be-considered the main dish of the whole spread, her eye and smile both wide. “Now that looks like something real special.”

Xiangling smiled as she made her way over to the captain. “That’s a three-bird roast called a “gooducken”. It’s a chicken inside of a duck inside of a goose. I had to do a lot to get it right.”

Beidou let out a long hum. “Oooh, that sounds impressive! I’ll have a big portion, then!”

“I should try something new too…” Keqing looked between her plate and the buffet, a small frown coming to her face. “...but all that I’ve got on my plate is Golden Shrimp Balls so far…”

“Ah! Chongyun! Qiqi! The cold dishes are over here.” Xiangling directed the two over to one side of the buffet table, waving them over while gesturing to the dishes. “There’s plenty for you to try.”

“Here, I’ll help!” Yaoyao scooped food onto Qiqi’s plate. “This looks good. Make sure to eat it all!”

“Okay.”

Chongyun held his plate away from Xingqiu, his eyes shifting between his friend and the food he was putting onto his plate. “Please don’t try to sneak anything spicy onto my plate this time.”

“Why, I would never.” Xingqiu chuckled, a hand held up in defense. “What a random accusation.”

“Your Grace…” Baizhu eyed your plate as you took a seat next to him, his gaze scanning all of the generous portions you served yourself. “I’m not entirely knowledgeable on how much a god can eat, but make sure not to overstuff yourself. I can’t imagine it’d be good for your stomach.”

“I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises!”

And after stuffing yourself full of Xiangling’s cooking, it felt like a happy mistake in the end.

- - - - -

The party was going well so far; after the performance and initial serving of food, it was nice to see everyone mingling together and having fun. You scanned the area, taking in the groups that the characters formed amongst themselves, before refocusing your attention back on what you were doing: being busy at the “Winter Weather Device” Cloud Retainer built for the occasion.

And snow was actually a lot more pleasant when you weren’t buried under a heavy blanket of it.

“Shenhe, if I ever get into a snowball fight, I’m recruiting you to my team.”

The woman stared at you, seriously. “I would slay all your foes if need be, Your Grace.”

“Aha… snowball fights aren’t that serious, but thanks.”

You continued to pat down the snow you held into a snowball, the cold flakes a higher-quality than what nature ever made. The water used to make them apparently came from the adepti abodes, which, of course, was why the snow was so soft and powdery, like from a fairytale.

“I’m…” Yanfei stood by you, also crafting a snowball in her hands — which shook slightly from the cold steeping into her fingers — at your insistence. “...not sure I see the appeal in this.”

“The appeal is the glory of victory over your foes.”

“...right.”

Yanfei left the snowball she had made in the growing pile by your feet. You watched the younger partygoers play in the snow, stomping around and making vaguely snowman-like structures out of the cold flakes, before you felt someone approach you from behind, and turned to face them.

“Yelan! Hey! I didn’t notice you were here, are you having fun?”

Yelan let out a soft exhale, the warm light of the nearby stone lanterns illuminating her face from below as she faintly smiled. “It’s hard not to have a good time when you’re around, Your Grace.”

“D’aw, you’re just flattering me. I know how you work.”

You snorted as Yelan chuckled at your comment, before a thought struck you.

“Oh! I just realized I haven’t seen you around for a while! Where’ve you been this entire time?”

“Places.”

“Doing what?”

“Things.”

You stared at Yelan for a few seconds, her gaze amused as she stared back.

“...okay, then. Keep your secrets.”

You played with the snowball in your hands, rolling it back and forth between your palms as you briefly pondered all of the mysterious — and probably legally-dubious — things Yelan must have been up to this past week and a half, before you were snapped out of your thoughts by the sight of a wrapped box being held in front of your face. The hand holding it was Yelan’s, the shiny bow adorning the tiny rectangular container bending in the gentle evening breeze that was blowing by.

The box was pushed into one of your hands, the snowball now held in the other.

“Here. For you. I hear giving gifts is a custom for this little holiday we’re celebrating, hm?”

“Where’d you hear about… no, wait, never mind. I’m not gonna get an answer, am I?”

“You know me too well, Your Grace.” Yelan chuckled again, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she smiled at you. “If you were anyone else, that’d be a problem. But if it’s you, it’s just fine.”

You had never felt so lucky to be yourself as you did right now.

“I suppose I’ll let you rejoin the rest of the party now. Everyone worked so very hard to put this whole thing together just for you, I shouldn’t keep you from rewarding them with your attention.”

Yelan turned away from you, glancing over her shoulder as she walked away.

“I’ll be watching. May we meet again soon, Your Grace.”

- - - - -

Despite all of the fun you were having, the party sadly couldn’t go on forever.

The daylight soon blended into night, and with it, the guests started to take their leave. The first to go were the youngest of the characters — Qiqi left with Baizhu and Changsheng, Yaoyao with Cloud Retainer, Madame Ping and most of the other adepti. Yaoyao had even started to doze off at that point, requiring her to be carried by Cloud Retainer. Shenhe also left with the latter group.

Then went the next youngest: Xingqiu, Chongyun, Xiangling, Hu Tao, Yun Jin, Gaming… before they left, you made sure to give both Guoba and Man Chai another extra tight hug for the road.

Those who had work the next day soon followed. Yanfei, Keqing, and Ganyu all gave you polite goodbyes as they left, and Yelan vanished into the dark as easily as she had appeared to you.

Beidou left after saying goodbye to you and Ningguang, who simply headed inside of the Jade Chamber after bidding you a good night. Kazhua left with the pirate caption, his farewell another one of his poems that you were unfortunately too tired to think of one of your own in response to.

The harbor seemed to glow below the Jade Chamber as the city’s lanterns lit up in the absence of the sun. You fiddled with the gift from Yelan in your hands, still wrapped up and unopened.

“Your Grace, would I be correct in saying the surprise party was a success?”

You brought your gaze back up from Liyue Harbor and turned to see Zhongli approaching to stand beside you, his arms politely folded behind his back and his eyes focused on your face.

You smiled, giving him a nod. “Oh, yeah! It was so much fun! And I’m definitely going to figure out how to thank everyone for it, especially Yaoyao and Qiqi since they planned the whole thing!”

His lips turned up into a soft smile. “I’m very pleased to hear you say that, Your Grace.”

Your gaze shifted from the man standing next to you to the roof of the Jade Chamber, and you waved at Xiao to come join you and Zhongli. The legendary boy-adeptus had kept his distance from most others during the party, opting to watch from the rooftops as an onlooker rather than an active participant in it, though you were just happy that he was near all the festive energy.

With a sudden burst of green and black wisps, Xiao was at your side.

You looked at the adeptus with an enthused smile. “Sooo… did you enjoy yourself, Xiao?”

“...as long as the party made you happy, then I’m happy, Your Grace.”

You clutched a hand over your heart. “Xiao… you’re too sweet.”

This felt like the perfect ending to a perfect celebration, and as you looked between the adeptus and the Archon, you only felt all warm and fuzzy — it was almost too much for you. Almost.

“Hey, I don’t feel like sleeping just yet. Let’s go for a walk around the harbor together.”

“We’d be honored to, Your Grace.”

[maxdibert]

i respect your take on snape, although he’s still not really a character i love, but i feel like a huge difference between snape and regulus/james/etc. for people who write fan fics or create stuff for the mauraderers fandom in general is the fact that people have the liberty to create their futures (since they all died very young, regulus is essentially entirely a fanon character, as is pandora, and many others), while with snape like canonically we know how he turns out, how he has mistreated children as a teacher, etc., and that’s just not something everyone can forgive, and yes there are intersectional factors in his upbringing that influence his actions but his actions are still his own, and at that point in the books he is a literal adult with like a lot of power, being a teacher, integral to dumbledor, and important to the DEs, his cruelty just seems quite unnecessary and i don’t think it’s wrong for it to not be everyone’s cup of tea. also to say the whole fandom is classist is honestly a reach, remus, lily, mary, etc. are also not rich pure bloods and they are generally beloved characters.

i get the premise of the point that it would be hypocritical to dislike snape and love characters like regulus, remus, james, etc, but again one of the main draws to these characters is the fact that there is like so little to work with from cannon, but each character has enough about them in cannon to create really interesting character dynamics (and there are just so many characters to work with, like pandora, mary, lily, etc. and the gen x characters are from like three families essentially, there’s just less to work with). with these baseline characteristics and early tragic deaths it’s easy to grasp onto these characters, and write stories where their futures could be better, and they could change for the better while with snape that story is entirely written and his actions just don’t appeal to everyone. snapes arc is quite fleshed out by jkr, in a way the majority of the characters in the mauraderers fandom isn’t, which is also why people might prefer other characters and still not like snape

That would make sense if one of the fan favorites weren’t Barty Crouch Jr, whose future we all know, and it’s much worse than Severus’s. It would also make sense if the only Slytherin they fangirl over were Regulus, but there’s also Evan Rosier, who was one of Voldemort’s biggest supporters. They even let Peter slide on many things, even though he was the main traitor of the Potters and a lifelong bootlicker of Voldemort. Honestly, the issue with Severus doesn’t seem to have anything to do with how he ends up as an adult. I think that’s just a cheap excuse people use to justify their classism and beauty privilege and also to avoid confronting the reality that what bothers them most about Severus as a character is that, indeed, he’s the marginalized victim who doesn’t fit in economically, socially, or physically, who gets mocked for not conforming to beauty standards and for having a non-hegemonic appearance. And that’s literally what those same haters try to impose in their distorted, wannabe version of the Marauders. But Severus doesn’t work for them as a projection because he’s not the cool, popular guy, and they need to project themselves onto characters who were cool and popular to sublimate their unresolved fantasies of school popularity.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

My little girl || Jason Todd ||

A/n: 6am, can't get girl dad Jason out of my head.

It was an accident, on how he found out. I mean it's not like he knew the little slip of paper had it written out.

A girl

Jason froze. The words on the paper hit him harder than he expected. A girl. He was having a daughter. His chest tightened, his throat felt dry, and before he could stop himself, tears welled up in his eyes. He quickly rubbed at them, embarrassed by his own reaction, but the realization overwhelmed him.

Sitting on the couch, his hand trembling as he slid the paper away he couldn't stop thinking.

A little girl. His little girl.

The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. He thought of all the things he wanted to protect her from, all the ways he would be there for her the ways no one had been there for him when he was young. He thought about you, and how their daughter would undoubtedly inherit your warmth and strength. And for the first time in a long time, Jason let himself cry not out of anger or pain, but out of pure, unfiltered joy.

Jason had always been good at keeping secrets. It was practically part of his job description as Red Hood. But this? This was different. Knowing you two were having a girl was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and keeping it from you felt like torture.

While at home you had noticed something was off almost immediately. Jason was fidgety, overly attentive, and kept sneaking glances at your belly with a grin he couldn’t quite hide.

“What’s going on with you?” You asked one evening, narrowing your eyes as you caught him staring. “You’re acting weird.”

Jason froze mid-bite of his sandwich, quickly covering. “Weird? Me? Nah, I’m fine.”

You smirked, folding your arms. “Jason Peter Todd, I know you. Spill.”

He shook his head, standing abruptly. “I can’t! I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He practically fled to the kitchen, leaving you staring after him, your suspicions growing.

A few days later, Jason’s excitement finally got the better of him. They were lying in bed, you curled up against him as you two talked about baby names. Jason had been trying desperately to keep the secret, but when you mentioned the possibility of a boy, he couldn’t help himself.

“Okay, but what about girl names?” he blurted out, his tone too enthusiastic to ignore.

You tilted your head up to look at him, narrowing your eyes. “Why are you so focused on girl names all of a sudden?”

Jason froze, realizing his mistake. “Uh no reason? I mean, just you know, in case.”

You sat up, your smirk returning. “Jason. You know, don’t you?”

Jason groaned, running a hand down his face. “Damn it. I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait. Are we having a girl?”

Jason sighed, then smiled, his joy impossible to hide. “Yeah. We’re having a girl.”

Your hands flew to your mouth, tears springing to your eyes. “Jason why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he admitted, pulling you into his arms. “But I couldn’t help it. Y/n, we’re having a little girl. I’ve always wanted a daughter. I didn’t even think I’d get to have a family, let alone this.” His voice cracked slightly, as you kissed him softly.

“We’re so lucky,” you whispered, your own tears mingling with his. “She’s going to have the best dad in the world.”

Jason held you close, his hand resting protectively over your stomach. “And the best mom,” he said quietly. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure she knows how much she’s loved.”

As you two sat there together, the secret finally out, Jason felt an overwhelming sense of peace. He was going to be a dad to a little girl, and for the first time in his life, he felt truly whole.

[stackslip]

the more i get into fma 03 the more of an fma manga/brotherhood hater i become

[benevolenterrancy]

hi! I recently came across your tgcf fics, and I wanted to say you’re a phenomenal creator. the recovery series fic and the gloves fic and just all of them. thank you for your content and great attention to detail.

do you have any thoughts/hcs on FXMQ and Xie Lian you’d be willing to share? within the original story or the universes of your fics!

Thank you so much, I'm glad you're enjoying them! (ﾉ*^▽^*)ﾉ.｡:*☆

hmm, random thoughts about the FXMQ... a silly headcanon: Feng Xin has very much been hoisted by his own petard by heckling Mu Qing! That is to say, he'll harass Mu Qing relentlessly about something stupid only to be confronted with a similar situation and realise that there's absolutely NO way he can act in anyway similar to Mu Qing or he'll never hear the end of it.

(For example, he has tolerated some truly atrocious divine statues in the past because he's heckled Mu Qing so much about how picky he is with his divine statues that there's no WAY he can say ANYTHING without seeing that smug bastard's face in his head so he just has to bite his tongue and tolerate some unspeakably ugly statues.)

Mu Qing doesn't generally suffer from similar overthinking (he'll just prepare to kick FX's ass if he dares to say anything about it) except for things more directly related to himself. I think he genuinely finds sewing/embroidery/etc rather relaxing work but he'd rather die than have anyone ever see him do it because he's made such a big deal about not doing that sort of "servant" work anymore.

(He actually really enjoyed stitching Ruoye back together because it gave him the perfect excuse -- he's returning a favour!! and Xie Lian is hopeless!! of course he had to!! -- and he secretly considered using white thread to embroider some invisible little designs just because he doesn't quite want to stop... only he knew he'd get caught if he messed with Xie Lian's spiritual device like that and gave up the idea)

[knightelf]

maybe i do need to go to therapy bc its probably not good that ive been living on autopilot and the last 7 years went by so fast but also bc i was deliberatly Wanting the time to go by to put as much space between me and the events of 2017-2020 as possible all while somewhat knowing my young adulthood was slipping me by and now both my teenage years and my early 20s are gone and i still feel like my 19th birthday was yesterday yeesh!!

[longagoitwastuesday]

I actually like the last chapter. I think the ideas are very good. I have my qualms on how some things were managed, as I always do, but I think shonen authors get tangled in the expectations of a shonen to the point it jeopardises their writing, often even when they're not lacking in skills

[daz4i]

as soon as i learn how to write and commit to projects and tell stories at length and finish literally anything it's over for you (i will write this damn angel/demon au.)

[dazais-guardian-angel]

delighted that i'm so much more fond of chuuya at this point than i was just a couple years ago. it took the stormbringer play, the cannibalism play, and the fifteen manga (still haven't gotten to those two novels in their entirety, I Will Soon I Promise), it took 6ish+ years, but i can confidently say I Get It Now. Now i just need asagiri to break him (affectionate) in the manga and actually give him a character arc already <333

[evievigilant]

sorta wanna try my hand at fanfiction sorta don’t hmm

[writersdrug]

Price getting reader a step stool cause she keeps asking Bartender!Ghost to reach stuff for her. Simon obviously brakes it when no ones looking. 👀🤭

LOL

"Is this your way of insulting me?" You ask, holding the colorful, children's stepstool in your hands. You're grimacing at it, a look that has Price chuckling as he folds up the bag from the store.

"I figured you could use it - now ya don't have to wait for Simon to grab anything for you." He says, patting you on the shoulder.

"I don't mind the wait..." You mumble under your breath. The stool feels as decorative as a clowns nose as you tuck it under your arm and head towards the stairs. "I'm keeping it upstairs, I don't need customers laughing at me when I pull this out. Might take it home and spray paint it."

"Suit yourself." Price calls as you bound up the stairs. He heads over to the bar, where Simon is currently polishing the glasses you convinced him to order for the Halloween drink.

"Got a problem with me helpin' 'er?" Simon says, thick fingers rubbing the glass with a rag. He doesn't mean to sound defensive... but he can't help the bite in his tone.

Price smirks, picking up on the jealousy laced into Simon's words. "Thought you might like it. Makes your life easier, and 'ers." He pops open the register and starts filtering through the bills, replacing the larger value ones with smaller ones.

"You don't think I'm capable of runnin' a bar and helping you waitress at the same time?"

"No, but I think you'd be better off if you didn't have to run so much. She's brought in so much business as it is, your workload's gotten heavier."

Simon huffs. "Ya just want to separate us, hm? Want 'er all to yourself." He jokes, grabbing another glass and buffing it.

Price shrugs. "And if I am?" He says, giving him a side glance.

Ghost slows his ministrations, turning his head to his captain. They both stare at each other for a moment, Simon with his slightly angry, slightly questioning glare, and Price with his unwavering eyes. Simon wants to tell him to back down, that you're his - but he can't say that, because you aren't his. He wants you to be. But he doesn't know how to make it happen without letting his walls down.

Price chuckles, turning back to the register to continue swapping bills. "Y'know, if you want to say somethin' you'd best say it." He comments, snapping the drawer shut. "Missed opportunities often come from miscommunication."

He leaves Simon at the bar, heading towards the stairs with his money folder. You jog down the steps and nearly crash into him - he quickly grabs your shoulders and spins you out of the way before you can collide with him. You throw a "sorry!" over your shoulder as you carry an armful of various fruits, leaving Price chuckling as he ascends the stairs to the office.

"The oranges up there aren't looking too great." You chirp, dumping the fruit onto his workspace. A few lemons and limes roll onto the floor, and you bend down to chase them. Simon watches you, a bit miffed at how unaware you were of the situation. What do you think of Price? Do you like him? Would you flirt with him as much as you do with Simon?

You return with the escaped fruit. "I can run to Sevvy's store and grab some for tonight, if you want? The ones upstairs are looking a bit pruney."

"Are you actually gonna use that thing?"

"Huh?" You look at him with confusion written on your face. "What thing?"

"The stool." He looks down at you, his expression unreadable. "'S a bit demeaning, don'tcha think?"

You paused, watching him move the fruit to the side and grab a plastic cutting board. "I mean... he bought it, and I wouldn't have to bug you so much. If I spray paint it black or something, it won't look that ridiculous."

He nods. "Hm."

"I used it to grab the fruit."

"That's interestin'." He mumbles, slicing through an orange. You were right, they have seen better days.

He turns to pop open the register and hands you some bills. "Go get a few oranges, no more than ten. Order should be comin' in tomorrow."

You smile and take the money, stuffing it in your back pocket. With a few hours remaining before the restaurant opens, you go through the kitchen, grab your jacket, and head out the back.

Simon's back to chopping fruit and dumping it into a small bin, bitterly thinking over what Price had said. It's a stool. Price got it to help you and himself. It was a thoughtful purchase. But it's not just that. However unserious this is to Price, he's trying to rile Simon up. He's treating you like the last slice of cake in the tin - Price would like to have it, but he knows Simon's groveling for it. He's forcing Simon to ask for what he wants, and the bartender doesn't like that one bit. Normally, it wouldn't be something that irks him so easily - but this is you we're talking about. Not just anything. You. He wants to grab Price by the collar and throw him into next week with how he's trying to wedge between you and Simon - but he doesn't like having a weakness. He'll keep his cool for now. He'll make a move... eventually.

For now, the only aggressive side he'll present is passive.

Price leaves late that night, somewhere between two and three in the morning. He's beat, spending most of the night between helping you run food and drinks, and fifo-ing the pantry and overflow rooms. He's planning for a day off - of course, after he goes to the bank and comes back here to pay everyone. He's jealous of Simon, who's already upstairs for the night - he wishes he only had a short trip to the third floor before he could crash into his bed. Rather, he has to trek a hefty number of blocks home through the dark streets. He's more worried about going to bed at a decent hour than walking around at night with a bag full of money - people usually steer clear of him when they see his stature.

He locks the back door behind him, puffing out a foggy breath into the frigid air. It's only getting colder - he'll have to break out his gloves and scarf soon. The beanie won't be enough. He shoves one hand into his pocket, the other holding a small bag of trash from the office. He mentally ticks off what he needs to do this week as he grabs the garbage bins, dragging them behind him and towards the street for the trucks to empty in the morning. He pushes them against the store front, taking the lid off and dropping the light trash bag inside.

The loud thunk makes him do a double take. Did he throw away something important? He lifts the bag once again, and a disappointed expression falls upon his face. The colorful kiddie stool he bought for you is there, pieces snapped apart and shoved deep into the bin. Simon didn't even try to hide it underneath the other bags. It's almost like he left it there for Price to catch.

He sighs, dropping the bag and placing the lid back. He trudged down the sidewalk towards his home - he's not too upset by it. He had a feeling Ghost was sinking his teeth into you, and frankly, it's gotten to the point where Price is afraid of what the man might do if someone else tries to take you away. But damn, if his ex-lieutenant's going to make a move, he'd better make a fucking move. For your sake, if not his own.

He pulls his phone from his pocked and shoots Simon a quick, blunt message.

You're paying me back for that.

[mcrdvcks]

Until I Found You

Summary: Living in a small town had it's pluses and minuses. But when an older man and his daughter move in, things start to change, perhaps for the better.

Word Count: 24.3k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!teacher!reader

Notes: this is looong, and believe me, i was surprised when i realized that it ended up being 24,000 words.

this thing is a slow-burn, i was literally screaming at my screen saying 'just kiss already!' then realizing that, in fact, i'm the one who has to make them kiss or confess or do something.

reader has a last name, but other than that, she isn't described. this technically could be considered an AU of logan (2017) where logan survives, so this was written with old man logan in mind.

i would like to turn this into another oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests! (relating to this or anything else you want to see!)

warnings: none!

The small town you lived in meant a few things, everyone knew everyone, and everyone got in everyone’s business.

A few months ago, an older man and his young daughter moved into town. You weren’t sure exactly how old he was, of course you knew who he was, but even you had to admit, he was attractive. But that’s what everyone thought, you heard the mothers who would pick up their children from school, looking at Logan as he picked up Laura.

It was nice to see a man who picked up his kid, though you’ve never seen Laura’s mother, so perhaps that explains why.

Laura was a quiet and sweet girl, at least that’s what you thought. Apparently, she also had the spirit of a firecracker and got angry easily. And while she’s visited the principal’s office at least 9 times since she’s been here, you still can’t help but see her as a cute little girl who’s been through something traumatic, whatever it was.

You were standing outside with your class in the afternoon, waiting until all the students were picked up. Laura was in another teacher’s class at the end of the day, your coworker Emma Zhou. You and Emma stood next to each other, your classes mingling as they waited for their parents to pick them up.

Emma leaned close to you, “this is my favorite part of the day, you know.”

“Yeah, I think it’s everyone’s favorite part of the day. We get to go home after this.” You replied.

“It used to be that, but now…” Emma trailed off as you glanced over at her, “there aren’t a lot of people in this town who are good looking. But he’s a great new addition.”

You hummed noncommittally, so what if Logan was good-looking? It wasn't like you spent your time ogling him. He was just another parent in the sea of them, a bit rougher around the edges maybe, but nothing that special. Emma shot you a knowing look.

"Come on, you’ve seen him, right? That scruffy beard, those eyes," Emma said, nudging you with her elbow. "He’s like one of those rugged cowboys from the old Westerns."

"You sound like you're about to swoon," you teased, trying to keep the conversation light. You didn't want to admit you might have noticed the way his eyes softened when he looked at Laura or the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Well, can you blame me?" Emma shot back with a grin. "Small town like ours, and a guy like that shows up? It's bound to turn some heads."

You knew that much. All the women, even those who were married, always ogled him, but he either didn’t mind or didn’t care. His salt and pepper hair, the thick beard—he was practically a wet dream for women everywhere.

Emma nudged you again, eyes gleaming with mischief. "What, you’re not even the least bit curious about him?"

"I mean, sure, he's... attractive, but I'm not about to join the fan club," you said, shrugging it off, though you could feel heat creeping up your neck. You kept your focus on the kids in front of you, especially Laura, who sat quietly on the steps, doodling in her notebook like she always did while waiting for her dad.

Emma smirked, clearly not buying your indifference. "Yeah, right. I see the way you look over there sometimes."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "You're seeing things."

Just then, you noticed Logan’s truck pull into the school parking lot. He stepped out, running a hand through his hair as he made his way over to the crowd of parents. Laura immediately perked up, her quiet demeanor shifting just a little, and she started gathering her things without a word.

"Speak of the devil," Emma murmured, but you ignored her, watching as Logan approached, his usual scowl in place, though it softened when his eyes landed on his daughter.

He gave a brief nod in your direction as he came closer. "Afternoon."

"Hey," you replied, casually. You weren’t about to give Emma the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.

Laura stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder as she walked over to him. She paused in front of you, though, glancing up with those big, serious eyes of hers.

"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice quiet but steady with a hint of her accent.

You smiled. "See you tomorrow, Laura."

She gave a small nod before taking Logan’s hand. He didn’t say much else, just a simple ‘thanks’ before turning to leave with Laura in tow. You watched them walk away for a moment longer than necessary, noticing the slight limp in his step that he tried to hide.

"Y/N," Emma sing-songed, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Admit it, you’ve got a little thing for him, don't you?"

You rolled your eyes. "You really need a new hobby."

Emma laughed, but before she could press any further, her attention shifted to another parent picking up their kid, and you were grateful for the distraction. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder about Logan and Laura, what their story was. Everyone in town seemed to have their theories—some more ridiculous than others—but you’d always figured it wasn’t your place to pry.

As the crowd of students and parents thinned out, you found yourself thinking about Logan again. His gruff exterior didn’t bother you—it reminded you of those old Clint Eastwood characters, tough but with something vulnerable underneath. Maybe it was the way he looked at Laura, so protective but with a softness that made you wonder what kind of man he really was when he let his guard down.

Emma’s voice pulled you back to the present. "So, what’s your plan for the evening?"

You shrugged. "Probably just grading papers. Maybe catching up on some Netflix. You?"

"Trying to figure out how to run into Logan at the grocery store," she joked, though you wouldn’t have been surprised if she wasn’t kidding.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Good luck with that."

As you both said your goodbyes and headed to your cars, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time. He was already driving off, Laura in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window.

You let out a small sigh and got in your car, starting the engine. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but there was something there. Maybe Emma wasn’t entirely wrong.

Not that you’d ever admit that to her.

---

Much to your dismay, you had to go to the store once you were already clad in your loungewear. You wanted to make pasta, only to remember you forgot to get milk after work.

So now, here you were at the small local grocery store grabbing milk and a pint of ice cream for your troubles. The store was quiet at this hour, a few other people milling about but otherwise uneventful. You grabbed a basket and made a beeline for the dairy section, trying to get in and out as quickly as possible. Loungewear was great for a lazy evening at home, but not exactly your first choice for public appearances.

Once you made it to the frozen section, you looked at the pints of ice cream, specifically looking for one of your favorites, Ben and Jerry’s s’mores. “Fuck.” You muttered, seeing a pint of cookie dough in the spot of the s’mores.

You angrily grabbed the cookie dough ice cream to look behind it, only to find a chunky monkey pint. With a huff, you looked at the pint of ice cream, mentally cursing your luck. Just as you were about to put it back onto the shelf, a deep voice spoke from beside you.

"Didn't figure you for a chunky monkey type."

Startled, you looked up and found Logan standing there, one eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was holding a six-pack of beer and a carton of eggs in one hand, the other casually resting in the pocket of his jeans.

You blinked, thrown off by the sudden appearance. "What? Oh, no, I was just... I was looking for s'mores," you explained awkwardly, holding up the ice cream like it was evidence.

He nodded, his smirk deepening a little as he glanced at the shelves. "Guess they’re out, huh?"

"Yeah, my luck tonight," you muttered, a little embarrassed to be caught standing here obsessing over ice cream in your loungewear. Not exactly how you wanted to run into the guy you were definitely not crushing on. How could you? He was the Wolverine, around 200 years old, and looked to be the age of your father. Well, if your father was still alive. Or if you ever got to know him.

Logan glanced at the shelf again and shrugged. "S'mores is overrated anyway."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, momentarily forgetting your embarrassment. "Oh really? What’s your go-to then, Mr. Anti-S'mores?"

He smirked, that same low, gravelly voice coming through as he responded. "Not much of an ice cream guy, but if I had to choose… probably plain vanilla. Simple. Not too sweet."

You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you. "Of course you'd go for the most basic flavor."

His eyebrow twitched slightly at that, and you could see the playful glint in his eyes. "Sometimes simple’s the best option."

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a pint of vanilla. "Well, I guess I'll take your advice tonight, then. Not like I have much of a choice."

He gave you a brief nod, and for a moment, it seemed like the conversation would end there, but then Logan shifted slightly, his weight on one leg, clearly trying to mask the limp you'd noticed earlier. You weren’t sure if it was from the adamantium or something else, but it definitely wasn’t healing like it should. You found yourself biting your lip, wanting to ask but knowing better.

Instead, you went for something safer. "Laura’s doing well in class, by the way. She’s sharp. A little stubborn, but sharp."

He glanced down at you, a flicker of pride crossing his face. "Yeah, she’s a tough one." His expression softened as he added, "She doesn’t talk about it, but I know she likes you. Keeps her distance with most people."

Your heart fluttered a little at that. Laura was a bit of a mystery, rarely engaging much with the other teachers or students, so hearing that she’d let her guard down even a little with you meant more than you’d expected. "Well, she’s a good kid. I try not to push her too much."

Logan nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than you expected, like he was sizing you up in that quiet, brooding way of his. It made you feel both exposed and… oddly seen.

"Anyway," you said, breaking the silence, "I’ll let you get back to your shopping. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than stand around talking about ice cream."

He gave a small grunt that might’ve been a laugh, but it was so subtle you couldn’t be sure. "Yeah. See you around, Ms. Aberra."

"Y/N," you corrected, feeling a little awkward. "You can just call me Y/N."

He hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Y/N, then."

You gave him a small smile, feeling a strange warmth at the way your name sounded in his deep voice. He gave a nod before turning to leave, but as he walked away, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at his retreating form. There was something about him—something rough, broken, but undeniably captivating.

---

The next morning, you pulled into the school parking lot, iced coffee in hand, still replaying your chance encounter with Logan at the grocery store. Why did it have to be the one night you went out in loungewear? If Emma ever found out, you'd never hear the end of it. You mentally braced yourself as you walked toward the building, determined to shake off any lingering thoughts about last night.

As you entered the teacher's lounge to drop off your things, Emma was already there, nursing her own cup of coffee. She spotted you immediately and raised an eyebrow.

"You look a little too chipper for a Wednesday," she teased.

You shrugged, trying to act casual. "Just happy to be halfway through the week."

"Uh-huh," she said, not quite convinced. "You didn't run into anyone interesting last night, did you?"

Your heart skipped a beat. How does she know?

"Like who?" you asked, trying to play dumb, but Emma's smirk told you she wasn't buying it.

"Oh, I don’t know... maybe a certain rugged cowboy-looking guy with a truck?" she said, her grin widening.

You groaned. "Seriously, do you have a sixth sense or something?"

"I knew it!" Emma practically squealed. "You did run into Logan, didn’t you? Come on, spill!"

You rolled your eyes and took a seat at the table. "It was nothing. We just ran into each other in the frozen section, talked for, like, two seconds. That’s it."

"Uh-huh, and?" Emma leaned forward, eager for details.

"And nothing. We talked about ice cream. He said s'mores was overrated."

Emma let out a dramatic gasp. "Overrated? Now, I know he's not perfect."

You chuckled despite yourself. "Yeah, well, that's the most thrilling part of my story, so feel free to be disappointed."

Emma shook her head, still grinning. "Oh, I'm not disappointed at all. This is just the beginning."

"There's nothing to begin, Emma," you said, exasperated. "He's just another parent."

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that," she said with a wink before heading out to her classroom. You couldn't help but roll your eyes again as you followed her out into the hallway.

---

The morning passed uneventfully, but Laura had been quieter than usual in your class. Not that she was typically the most talkative kid, but today she seemed more distant, even from you. She’d finished her assignments early, as usual, but spent most of the class staring out the window instead of doodling in her notebook.

During lunch, you decided to check in with her. You found her sitting by herself outside, picking at the sandwich Logan had packed for her. You approached cautiously, not wanting to startle her.

"Hey, Laura," you greeted, taking a seat on the bench next to her. "Everything okay?"

She glanced at you, her expression as unreadable as always, before giving a slight shrug. "Yeah."

You studied her for a moment, noticing the way she kept her gaze low, avoiding eye contact more than usual. Something was definitely off. You knew better than to push too hard, but you also didn't want her to bottle everything up.

"Well, you know if you ever want to talk, I’m here," you said gently.

She gave another shrug, but this time, her eyes flickered up to meet yours briefly. "I know."

You nodded, letting the silence settle between you. Laura wasn’t one for big emotional outbursts—at least not around you—but you had a feeling she'd talk when she was ready.

"By the way," you said, changing the subject to lighten the mood, "your dad said he don’t like s'mores ice cream. Is that true, or is he just weird?"

Laura looked up at you, her lips twitching slightly like she was trying not to smile. "I like s'mores."

"Thought so," you replied with a smirk. "Well, I’m officially questioning all of your dad's taste now."

Laura didn’t laugh, but her expression softened a little, and she took another bite of her sandwich. It wasn’t much, but it felt like progress. You let her finish eating in peace, feeling a little more at ease knowing that you’d at least gotten her to relax.

---

The afternoon flew by, and soon enough, the end-of-day pickup routine was in full swing. You and Emma stood outside again, watching the usual parade of parents and cars. Logan’s truck was easy to spot as it pulled up to the curb. You tried to act like you weren’t paying attention, but of course, Emma caught you glancing over.

"Still nothing, huh?" she teased under her breath.

"Shut up," you muttered, doing your best to seem disinterested.

Logan stepped out of the truck, his usual stoic expression in place as he made his way toward the school. Laura was already waiting, standing near the steps with her backpack slung over her shoulder. She saw him and walked over without hesitation, but before they left, she turned back to you.

"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice a little softer than usual.

"See you tomorrow, Laura," you replied with a smile.

Logan gave you a nod as they walked past, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight limp in his step again. It was subtle, but there. Your curiosity piqued, but you pushed it down, reminding yourself it wasn’t your place to pry.

Emma, however, was still watching you closely. "You’re so not fooling anyone."

You shot her a look. "Seriously, get a hobby."

Emma just grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Oh, this is my hobby, Y/N. And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it."

As you both stood there, watching the last of the kids get picked up, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time as it drove away. Emma’s teasing was getting on your nerves, but there was a part of you that couldn’t completely dismiss what she was saying.

Maybe you were a little curious. Just a little. But you weren’t about to admit that to anyone—not even yourself.

---

Over the weekend you decided it was time to get an oil change. You weren’t going to go to ‘Mavin’s Oil Change’, not after that happened. Which is why for the past few years you’ve been doing it yourself.

It wasn’t difficult, and it was a lot cheaper, both wins in your book.

You walked around the hardware store, glancing at the shelves as you carried a new oil drain pan. You paused in front of the rows of motor oil, scanning the labels. Conventional had always worked fine for you, but maybe this time you'd splurge on the synthetic blend. It wasn't a huge decision, but it felt like a small act of treating yourself, in a way.

You were debating the pros and cons of the oil options when you heard the sound of someone walking up behind you.

"Didn’t peg you for the kind to do your own oil changes."

You turned your head and were met with Logan’s familiar gravelly voice. There he was again—of all places, he’d found you here in the auto section of the hardware store.

"Yeah, well, it's cheaper this way," you replied with a casual shrug, hoping to mask the slight surprise in your voice. You gestured to the oil in front of you. "What about you? Conventional or synthetic blend?"

Logan glanced at the shelf, then back at you. "Conventional. Gets the job done."

"Figures." You grinned a little, grabbing the conventional oil off the shelf. "Guess I’ll stick with what I know too, then."

He raised an eyebrow at you, but there was a hint of amusement behind his usual stoic demeanor. "Figured you’d be one to overthink it. Synthetic’s not all it’s cracked up to be."

You chuckled. "I’ll take your word for it, Mr. Oil Expert."

He grunted in response, grabbing something off the shelf for himself. For a moment, you both stood there, surrounded by tools and motor oil, neither of you saying much. It was kind of nice—quiet, comfortable in a way you wouldn’t have expected.

You shifted, holding the oil pan in your hands. "So, is Laura doing anything fun this weekend?"

Logan glanced at you, his face softening slightly at the mention of his daughter. "Not much. She likes to keep busy, but… this town ain’t exactly got a lot going on."

"True," you nodded, biting your lip as you tried to think of something. "She could come by and help me out with my garden, if she’s interested. I know she likes plants."

Logan looked at you, a little longer than usual, and you wondered if you’d crossed some kind of line offering something so personal. But then he nodded. "She’d probably like that."

"Cool," you said, feeling oddly relieved that you hadn’t messed up. "Let me know if she wants to. I could use an extra set of hands."

He gave a small nod, but his eyes lingered on you again for a second before he turned his attention back to the shelf. There was that same weight to his gaze, like he was always sizing things up, figuring people out.

"You know," you said, breaking the silence, "I’m starting to think you’re stalking me. First the grocery store, now here. Should I be worried?"

Logan snorted, shaking his head. "Pretty sure it’s the other way around."

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me? If anything, I’m just a simple schoolteacher who likes ice cream and doing her own oil changes. Hardly the stalking type."

"Sure," he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly into what could almost be considered a smile.

You felt your own lips tugging into a grin, and for a moment, it felt easier. Logan wasn’t always the easiest person to talk to, but something about these small, random moments with him made you feel more at ease than you expected.

"Well, good luck with your oil change," he said, turning to head down another aisle. "Maybe see you around."

"Yeah, see you around," you replied, watching him walk away before you continued shopping, a strange warmth lingering in your chest.

As you walked toward the checkout, you couldn’t help but think back on how natural it felt, just talking to him. There wasn’t any awkwardness or forced conversation—just two people running into each other at the hardware store. Nothing to overthink. Except, maybe, the fact that you were starting to like these encounters more than you’d like to admit.

---

Logan blew out a breath of his cigar smoke. Laura said she didn’t like it when he smoked inside so he started doing it outside on the porch.

A small added bonus was seeing you, a few houses down, across the street, currently underneath your car getting the oil to drain.

The door opened and shut behind him as Laura stepped out, “ella te gusta,” she said softly.

He let out a huff, “kid, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but I don’t know Spanish.”

Laura let out her own huff, sitting down next to Logan’s chair with her sketchbook, flipping it open. She didn’t say anything for a while, just started sketching in that intense, quiet way she had. Logan leaned back, puffing on his cigar, watching the smoke curl up into the air.

He caught himself glancing back across the street, where you were still working under your car. Laura's earlier comment lingered in his mind, even if he pretended not to know what it meant.

After a few minutes of silence, Laura looked up from her drawing. “You should go help her.”

Logan snorted, taking another puff of his cigar. “She’s fine. Knows what she’s doin’.”

Laura raised an eyebrow at him, her expression skeptical. “You’re always saying people shouldn’t be doin’ stuff like that alone. What if something happens?”

“Yeah, but she’s not helpless,” he grunted, though there was something in his tone that sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her.

Laura shrugged and went back to her sketch. “Still think you should.”

Logan glanced at her, then back at you. You were sliding out from under the car, wiping your hands on your jeans, looking like you’d handled it just fine. He grunted again, though this time it was more to himself.

“What are you drawing?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

Laura held up her sketchbook, showing him a detailed drawing of a plant—a vine with thorns twisting around a branch. It reminded him of your garden, something about the way the plants seemed to grow wild but still had a certain beauty to them.

“That for Ms. Aberra?” Logan asked, the name slipping out before he could stop it. He tried to keep his tone casual, but Laura shot him a knowing look.

“Maybe.” She shrugged, but there was a smirk playing on her lips. “She likes plants. Thought she’d like this.”

Logan just nodded, staying quiet. He wasn’t about to get into a conversation with an eleven-year-old about why he’d noticed things about your garden or how you seemed to have a way with plants. That wasn’t his style.

“Why don’t you go show her?” Logan suggested, nodding toward you as you gathered up your tools.

Laura seemed to think about it for a second, then shook her head. “Maybe later. She’s busy.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t push it. He knew better than to try and make Laura do something if she wasn’t in the mood. The kid had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Though he supposes it was his fault.

A teenage girl who was walking a dog, a tan pit bull, stopped in front of your driveway, the dog happily wagging its tail as it patiently waited for you to say hello.

You were still wiping the oil off your hands when you noticed the pair. "Hey, there.” You smiled as you crouched down to greet Juno, who leaned eagerly into your hand, her tail wagging excitedly. "How are you, Juno?" you cooed, giving the pit bull a good scratch behind the ears.

The teenage girl holding the leash smiled politely. “She’s been dying to see you again,” she said, giving the leash a little slack so the dog could get closer.

"Well, I’m always happy to see her." You grinned as the dog nudged your leg, clearly wanting more attention. "Been a busy evening?”

The girl shrugged. “Yeah, but Juno here makes it better. You know how it is.”

You nodded. "Definitely. Plants are my version of Juno. Or baking, it’s hard to decide.”

The girl chuckled lightly before glancing at the car behind you. “Doing your own oil change?”

"Yep," you said, standing up and wiping your hands again on the rag. "Easier and cheaper than going to a shop."

She raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. I wouldn’t even know where to start."

“You’d be surprised how easy it is. YouTube tutorials, mostly,” you said, shrugging as you wiped your hands on the rag.

The girl smiled. "I might have to try that next time. If I don’t mess up my car in the process.”

You laughed. "That’s what the tutorials are for. But yeah, it’s not too bad. You’d get the hang of it."

As you chatted with the girl for a bit longer, Juno continued to happily soak up the attention. You scratched behind her ears one more time before standing up straight. “Well, good luck with the rest of your walk. Always nice seeing you two.”

“Same here,” the girl replied, tugging gently on Juno’s leash. “C’mon, girl. Let’s get home.”

You waved as they continued down the street, Juno looking back at you with her tail wagging. With a satisfied sigh, you turned back to finish cleaning up, putting away the oil pan and bottles of motor oil.

Across the street, Logan puffed his cigar, watching as you gathered your tools and wiped your hands one more time. Laura had gone back to her sketching, though every now and then she’d glance up at him with that same look.

“She’s done now,” Laura said after a moment, still sketching.

“I can see that,” Logan grumbled, tapping ash off the end of his cigar.

“Still think you should go help,” she added, not even bothering to look up this time.

Logan huffed, staring at you as you double-checked your work and began packing up. He didn’t need to help—you were obviously handling everything just fine. But still, there was something about the way you worked so methodically, so determined. You’d done it all yourself, like you didn’t need anyone’s help. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling, though, that maybe he wanted to offer it anyway.

“Kid, you sure know how to push buttons,” he muttered under his breath.

Laura just smirked, flipping another page in her sketchbook.

Logan grumbled to himself for a moment longer before standing up from his chair, tapping out the last of his cigar in the ashtray. “Stay here.”

He walked across the street toward your driveway, hands in his jacket pockets, his eyes set on you as you knelt by the toolbox, sorting through the remaining tools.

“You done already?” he called out, making his presence known.

You glanced up, not expecting to see him again so soon. “Yeah, just finished up,” you replied, standing up and wiping your hands on the rag again. “What about you? Something break down?”

“Nah, just figured I’d see if you needed any help,” he said, his tone casual, though you could tell it wasn’t exactly his style to offer assistance without a reason.

You raised an eyebrow, smiling a little. “You offering to help after the job’s already done?”

"Guess I am," Logan replied with a hint of a smirk, his eyes not quite meeting yours.

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, it's the thought that counts, I suppose. Next time, I’ll be sure to save the hardest part for you."

"Yeah, you do that," he said, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. He shifted his weight slightly, glancing over at the now-finished oil change. "You do this kind of thing often? Or just the oil changes?"

"Mostly just the oil changes," you admitted, as you leaned in closer like you were telling a secret. “I went on a few dates with Mavin’s son the first few months I was here and didn’t go over well. Now he overcharges me.” You held up your hands, “but if it’s something complicated, I promise I drive 30 minutes to the city to get it checked out.”

Logan's eyes flickered with interest, the corners of his mouth twitching into something resembling a smile. "That right? Well, can't say I'm surprised. Mavin's a bit of a jerk."

You chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yeah, he wasn't thrilled about me ghosting his son, that's for sure. But hey, I learned how to change my own oil, so I guess something good came out of it."

Logan grunted in agreement, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't say much after that, his eyes lingering on you as if he were trying to piece together something that didn't quite fit. You had a feeling he wasn't used to people like you—people who seemed to find their way into his life, one way or another.

"Well," you said, breaking the silence, "thanks for the offer, even if the job’s already done." You smiled, a little uncertain about what to do next. "Guess I'll see you around."

He nodded, but didn't make a move to leave. "Laura likes you, you know."

That caught you off guard. "Oh," you replied, a bit flustered. "Well, I like her too. She's a good kid. Smart, but... you already know that."

"Yeah," Logan muttered, his voice softer than usual. "She doesn’t open up to many people. But you... you’re different."

You weren't sure how to respond to that, so you just nodded, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through your chest. "I’m glad she feels comfortable around me. She’s been through a lot."

Logan's eyes darkened slightly, a shadow passing over his features. "More than most," he agreed, his voice rough with something that sounded a lot like guilt.

You wanted to reach out, to say something that might make him feel better, but words failed you. So instead, you just stood there, the silence stretching between you, not awkward but charged with something unspoken.

"Anyway," Logan said, clearing his throat as if to shake off the heavy moment. "If you ever need help with the car, you know where to find me. Or Laura."

You smiled, feeling that warmth again. "I’ll keep that in mind. And if you two ever need help with, I don’t know, math homework or... anything else, you know where to find me."

He nodded, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Noted."

You watched as he turned to leave, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. As he walked back toward his house, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something more than just friendly encounters at the store.

---

During lunch, you sat in your classroom, enjoying 30 minutes of peace and quiet before the kids came back into the room. The soft hum of the heater filled the space, making the room feel warmer than usual as you flipped through the stack of quizzes you needed to grade. The formulas and diagrams were a blur as your mind drifted back to the weekend, specifically to Logan.

The way he’d offered to help with your oil change, the quiet moments that had followed—it was so unlike him. Or maybe, you realized, you just didn’t know him well enough yet. Either way, something about it had left you feeling... something.

A soft knock on the doorframe pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Emma standing in the doorway, that cheeky grin on her face.

“So,” she started, stepping inside your classroom. “I hear you’re making friends with a certain someone across the street.”

You rolled your eyes, setting down the quiz you’d been half-grading. “I’m not ‘making friends.’ We just happen to run into each other.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Mhm. Sure. Totally normal for him to come help with your oil change, right?”

"My God, how do you know?" you asked, eyes widening in disbelief as you sat back in your chair.

Emma smirked, leaning against the doorway like she had all the time in the world. "Small town. You know how people talk." She paused, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Besides, you’re not exactly subtle. Logan? The gruff guy across the street? It’s hard to miss that you two have been... running into each other more than usual."

You sighed, rubbing your temple. "It’s not like that. He just offered to help with my car, and Laura—"

Emma’s grin widened. "Ah, Laura. That’s the key, isn’t it? I’ve seen how she looks at you. That kid doesn’t warm up to just anyone. She’s a little... prickly, but with you? She’s different."

"She’s a good kid," you said, trying to deflect. "She’s been through a lot, you know? I just think she needs someone to talk to. Someone who’s not... intimidating."

"Sure, sure," Emma teased, walking further into the room and sitting on the edge of one of the desks. "But you can’t tell me there isn’t something more going on between you and Logan. I mean, come on. He doesn’t exactly strike me as the ‘friendly neighbor’ type. More like ‘leave me alone or I’ll stab you with my claws’ type."

You chuckled despite yourself. "Okay, yeah, he’s not exactly Mr. Rogers. But it’s not like we’re... you know, it’s just—"

"Flirting?" Emma offered with a raised eyebrow.

"Friendly," you corrected quickly, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. "It’s just friendly. He’s Laura’s dad, and we’ve talked a few times, but that’s it."

Emma gave you a knowing look. "Uh-huh. Sure. And I’m the Queen of England."

You groaned, pushing your quizzes aside. "Why are you so obsessed with this?"

"Because," Emma said with a shrug, "it’s about time you had a little fun in this town. You spend all your time either at school or working on that garden of yours. You deserve to have a life outside of grading papers and pulling weeds."

"I have a life," you protested.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Really? And when was the last time you went on a date?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but quickly closed it, realizing you didn’t have a good answer. "Okay, fine," you admitted, "it’s been a while. But that doesn’t mean—"

"Exactly my point," Emma interrupted, flashing a triumphant grin. "Look, I’m not saying you have to marry the guy. But Logan? He’s clearly interested. And I think you are too."

"Okay… even if I was interested, I’m pretty sure a guy like that doesn’t have dating or relationships on his mind. Especially with someone like me." You leaned back in your chair, feeling a mix of frustration and doubt.

Emma gave you a skeptical look, shaking her head. "Someone like you? Come on, Y/N. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re smart, funny, and clearly, Logan thinks you’re worth his time. He’s not just helping anyone with an oil change, believe me."

You sighed, crossing your arms. "It’s not that simple. You know what he’s been through. And Laura... she’s been through so much already. I’m not about to mess with their lives."

Emma smirked, tapping her fingers on the desk. "Mess with their lives? Or make their lives better? Laura clearly likes you, Y/N. She’s practically glued to your side when you’re around. And Logan? He’s different with you. I see it."

You frowned, picking up a pen and twirling it between your fingers. "Laura’s nice to me, yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. She’s indifferent to most of the other teachers, and she barely talks in class. I don’t even know if she likes me, or if it’s just... I don’t know."

"She doesn’t warm up to just anyone," Emma pointed out. "You’re different. She looks at you like she trusts you, and Logan trusts you too, whether he shows it or not. That’s not something that happens often with them. They’re... well, guarded, for obvious reasons."

You were quiet for a moment, thinking about Laura. It was true—she was quiet, distant with others, but with you? There was something different. She’d even started staying after class sometimes, just sitting there while you graded papers or prepped for the next lesson. And Logan? He was always nearby, watching, but never intruding.

Still, the idea of anything happening between you and Logan felt... complicated. "Even if he did trust me, it’s not like he’s the type to be thinking about relationships. The man’s got enough on his plate. And me? I’ve got work, and... I’m not exactly relationship material."

Emma laughed, shaking her head. "Please, Y/N. If anyone deserves a chance at something real, it’s you. You’ve spent so long taking care of everyone else—your students, your job. Maybe it’s time to let someone take care of you for a change."

You looked at her, skeptical. "You think Logan is the type to 'take care of' someone?"

She smirked. "He already is. He’s just doing it in his own way. And trust me, the way he looks at you? There’s more there than you realize. You just have to stop overthinking it."

Before you could respond, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Emma stood up, giving you one last knowing smile before heading for the door. "Just think about it, Y/N. Sometimes, the best things happen when you least expect them."

You watched her go, your mind still swirling with doubt and a tiny sliver of hope. Could there really be something more between you and Logan? Or was it just your imagination?

As your students started filing back into the room, you pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the rest of the day. But even as you taught your lessons and graded papers, Logan lingered in the back of your mind.

---

Later that evening, you found yourself in the garden, pulling weeds and trying to clear your head. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm orange glow over the small town. You liked this time of day—the quiet, the calm.

Just as you were settling into the rhythm of pulling weeds, you heard footsteps behind you. Turning around, you saw Logan standing there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"Need any help?" he asked, his gruff voice breaking the silence.

You blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, with the garden? I’m just pulling weeds."

He shrugged, stepping closer. "Doesn’t hurt to have an extra set of hands."

You smiled, feeling a bit awkward but oddly touched by the offer. "Sure, if you’re up for it."

Logan crouched down next to you, pulling at the weeds without saying much. The two of you worked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the rustling of plants and the distant hum of traffic.

Eventually, you spoke up, trying to break the tension. "So... Laura’s been doing well in class. She’s quiet, but I think she’s starting to come out of her shell a bit."

Logan glanced at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Yeah? That’s good to hear. She doesn’t talk much at home either."

"She’s a smart kid," you added, pulling another weed. "But I think... she could use someone to talk to. Someone she feels safe with."

Logan was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "She’s been through a lot. Trust doesn’t come easy for her."

You hesitated, then asked, "What about you? Do you feel safe here?"

He looked at you, his expression softening just a little. "Safer than I’ve felt in a long time."

That simple admission hit you harder than you expected. Logan, this gruff, guarded man, was letting his walls down, even just a little. It made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

"That’s good," you said quietly, your eyes meeting his. "I’m glad."

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The quiet between you felt heavy but not uncomfortable. Logan’s presence was grounding, solid in a way that made you feel... safe too.

Finally, he broke the silence. "I appreciate what you’ve done for Laura. She doesn’t trust many people, but with you... it’s different."

You shrugged, trying to downplay it. "I’m just doing my job. She’s a good kid, like I said."

Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. "It’s more than that. She trusts you. And... so do I."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. There was something unspoken in the air between you, something neither of you was ready to address. But it was there, simmering just below the surface.

"Logan, I—"

Before you could finish, he stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. "Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it."

You stood up too, feeling the weight of what was left unsaid hanging in the air. "Thanks for the help."

He gave a brief nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he turned to leave. "Anytime."

As you watched him walk away, your heart was pounding in your chest. There was no denying it now—there was something between you and Logan. Something real. And it scared you just as much as it excited you.

---

Parent-teacher conferences always stressed you out. Gathering all your students’ information, organizing it all, it was hectic and unreasonable. You couldn’t understand why an email didn’t suffice.

Possibly the worst thing about it is the fact it took place in the school gym, which had no AC. The heat was almost unbearable, making your clothes stick to your skin as you shuffled through your notes, waiting for the next parent to arrive to your table.

The gym was packed, parents and their kids moving between tables as they talked to teachers, making the already stifling room feel even hotter. You fanned yourself with the stack of notes you’d organized earlier, feeling sweat prickle at your back.

You glanced at your list of appointments, sighing when you saw who was next: Logan. You hadn't expected him to come. Laura was doing well enough in your class, but she wasn’t exactly the type to care about grades. You figured Logan would be the same—practical, but not overly concerned about school meetings.

You straightened up, glancing around to see him approaching with Laura by his side. She looked slightly uncomfortable, her arms crossed and her gaze focused anywhere but the gym, while Logan was, well... Logan. His expression was gruff, unreadable as usual, but there was something in his eyes that softened when he saw you.

“Ms. Aberra,” Logan greeted as he reached your table, giving you a nod.

“Logan,” you said, smiling at Laura. “And Laura. How are you two doing?”

Laura shrugged, barely meeting your gaze. Logan pulled out the chair for her, and she reluctantly sat down, still quiet. He stayed standing, leaning on the back of the chair, watching you with that familiar intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said lightly, trying to ease the tension. “Laura’s doing fine in class. Really, there’s not much to talk about.”

Logan glanced at Laura, then back at you. “Figured I’d come by anyway. See how things are goin’.”

You nodded, pulling up Laura’s grades on your tablet. “Well, like I said, she’s doing great. She’s one of the best in the class, actually. Quiet, but I can tell she’s always thinking.”

Laura’s face remained impassive, but there was the slightest twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips.

“She’s got potential,” you continued, looking at Logan. “Especially in science. I think she’d be great at anything she wanted to do, honestly.”

Logan grunted in response, but there was a proud glint in his eye. “That’s good to hear.”

Laura finally spoke up, her voice quiet but clear. “I like science. And math.”

You smiled, surprised by her willingness to engage. “Well, you’re really good at it. I was thinking, if you ever wanted, there are some extracurriculars coming up. Science club, math competitions—stuff like that. It might be fun.”

Laura glanced at Logan, who simply shrugged. “Up to you, kid.”

She seemed to think about it for a moment, then nodded slightly. “Maybe.”

“Well, no pressure,” you said, trying to keep it casual. “You can always decide later.”

There was an awkward pause as you flipped through the rest of Laura’s grades, though there wasn’t much else to say. She was excelling, especially considering her background. You couldn’t help but feel a little protective over her, knowing what she’d been through.

“So, uh, anything else you need to know?” you asked, looking back up at Logan.

He shook his head. “Just wanted to check in, make sure she’s on track.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth in his words even if he didn’t show it. “She’s doing great. Really.”

Logan gave you a brief nod, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than necessary before he straightened up. “Thanks.”

You watched as he turned to Laura, ready to leave, but she didn’t stand just yet. Instead, she glanced between the two of you, her brow furrowed slightly like she was piecing something together.

“Are you... friends?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the noise of the gym.

You blinked, taken aback by the question. Logan seemed just as surprised, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly recovered.

“Well,” you said slowly, glancing at Logan for a cue. “I guess you could say that.”

Logan cleared his throat, crossing his arms. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”

Laura’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she didn’t quite believe it but wasn’t going to argue. “Okay.”

She stood up, her chair scraping against the floor as she started toward the exit. Logan hesitated for a moment, giving you one last look before following her. “See you around,” he said, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

You watched them go, feeling that strange mix of emotions again—the warmth, the uncertainty, the possibility of something more. As the door closed behind them, you realized that, for once, you didn’t mind the heat. It was a small town, and people noticed everything. But you were starting to wonder if maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Laura grabbed his hand as they exited the gym, having already seen her other teachers. She looked up at Logan, as he stared straight ahead at the truck in the parking lot. “Creo que ella te gusta.”

He let out a huff, “kid, don’t know how many times I gotta say it, but I don’t know Spanish.”

Laura gave him a sidelong glance, clearly unimpressed by his response. "You should learn," she muttered under her breath, squeezing his hand as they reached the truck.

Logan grunted as he fumbled for the keys, a slight wince crossing his features as he slid into the driver’s seat. He glanced at Laura, who was already buckling herself in without a word. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t quite easy either.

He turned the key in the ignition, the truck sputtering to life as he pulled out of the parking lot. His mind wandered back to the parent-teacher conference, and specifically to Y/N. She’d always been good with Laura, he could see that. But lately, something about her seemed to calm him too—a feeling he wasn’t used to and didn’t quite know how to handle.

“You like her,” Laura said, breaking the silence with her blunt observation. It wasn’t a question.

Logan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “She’s a good teacher. You like her, too.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Laura said, crossing her arms. “You act different when she’s around. You don’t growl as much.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, though it lacked any real humor. “I don’t growl.”

“Yes, you do,” Laura said, looking out the window. “But not at her.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. Instead, he focused on the road, trying to push away the thoughts circling in his mind. He wasn’t a man used to... feelings, especially not ones that left him unsure. But Y/N had a way of sneaking under his defenses, and that scared him more than he’d like to admit.

“I like her,” Laura said quietly after a long stretch of silence.

Logan glanced at her, surprised by the soft admission. Laura didn’t trust people easily, and she certainly didn’t like many. But her words carried weight, especially to him.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

Laura nodded, still looking out the window. “She’s not like the others. She doesn’t treat me like I’m different.”

Logan felt a knot in his chest loosen, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the relief of knowing Laura had found someone she trusted, or maybe it was the way Y/N had already become a part of their lives, without him even realizing it. Either way, he didn’t say anything more, just drove the rest of the way home in silence, lost in his own thoughts.

---

The next morning, you thanked the stars that it was Saturday. You were exhausted from the large amount of human interaction last night and decided to sleep in a bit before tending to the garden.

After that, and taking a shower, you slipped into comfortable clothes, some small shorts and a large t-shirt that covered the shorts, since it only getting warmer outside.

Even with that said, you couldn’t help but crave chocolate chip cookies, thanking the stars once again that you had all the ingredients.

You turned on the oven, allowing it to pre-heat, as you grabbed a mixing bowl and walked around your small kitchen looking for the ingredients listed on your worn-out piece of paper. You still hadn’t memorized the recipe after making it for years.

The doorbell ringed as you poked your head out the side of your kitchen. When you answered it, you were pleasantly surprised to find Laura outside, wearing what you could only describe as a cute grey shirt with a colorful bear on it. You’d never say it to her, she’d probably leave if you said she looked cute.

“Hey, Laura. D’you need anything?”

“Daddy said I could help with the garden.” She spoke softly.

“Oof, sorry kiddo. Already did it this morning.” You looked back inside your house before turning back to Laura, “though, I could use some help making cookies.”

Laura hesitated for a second, her dark eyes studying you as if trying to decide whether this was worth her time. You were still getting used to her quiet, guarded nature, but you’d learned quickly that she was different around you compared to other people. It was like you had some sort of unspoken understanding, even if you didn’t fully get why.

“Okay,” she finally said, stepping past you into the house.

You closed the door behind her, walking back into the kitchen and grabbing a second mixing bowl. “You ever make cookies before?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at her.

Laura shook her head, standing by the counter as she watched you.

“Well, today’s your lucky day. I’m about to show you the magic of sugar, butter, and chocolate chips.” You grinned as you started measuring out the ingredients. “Can you hand me the brown sugar?”

She scanned the countertop before reaching for the brown sugar, silently passing it to you. You got the feeling she wasn’t used to this kind of thing—normal, mundane stuff like baking cookies on a lazy Saturday. Not that you knew her whole story or anything, but you’d heard enough about Logan and his complicated life to guess Laura hadn’t had a typical upbringing.

As you started mixing the butter and sugar together, you tried to think of something to say. Conversations with Laura could be tricky; she wasn’t the chatty type, and you didn’t want to push her too much.

“So,” you started, keeping your tone casual, “what’s Logan up to today?”

She shrugged. “Resting.”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Logan resting was a good thing. You knew he’d been having a rough time lately with his health, even though he wasn’t the type to admit it. You figured he was just being stubborn, refusing to slow down even though it was clear his healing wasn’t what it used to be.

Laura remained silent, watching as you added the flour to the mix.

“You wanna stir?” you asked, offering her the spatula.

She looked at it for a moment before stepping closer and taking it from you. Her movements were careful, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but smile as she focused on the task.

“Nice job,” you said, giving her a thumbs-up. “You’ve got a future in cookie-making, I can tell.”

Laura didn’t react much, but you swore you saw the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes.

As she stirred, you reached for the chocolate chips. “Best part of making cookies—sneaking a few of these before they go in the dough.” You tossed a couple into your mouth, then held the bag out to her.

She paused, looking at the chocolate chips like she wasn’t sure what to do. After a second, she picked one up and ate it, chewing thoughtfully.

You chuckled. “See? Told you it’s the best part.”

Laura kept stirring the dough while you got the baking sheets ready. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just… quiet. You didn’t mind it, though. Laura wasn’t the type of kid who needed constant conversation, and you appreciated that about her.

As she worked, you glanced at her again, feeling a strange sense of protectiveness. You didn’t know what exactly she’d been through, but whatever it was, you could tell it had shaped her into someone far older than her years.

When the dough was ready, you started scooping it onto the trays. “Almost done,” you said. “Then it’s just a waiting game while they bake.”

Laura nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she watched you.

You slid the trays into the oven and set the timer before turning back to her. “You want some water or anything while we wait?”

She shook her head, her eyes still on the oven like she was trying to figure out why people made such a big deal out of cookies.

“Well, I’m grabbing a drink.” You poured yourself a glass of water, leaning against the counter as you sipped. “It’ll take around 12 minutes for them to finish. Then we put in another batch, and another until the dough has all been used.”

Laura gave a small nod, her eyes still focused on the oven. It was like she was trying to figure out if all this waiting was actually worth it.

You studied her for a moment, wondering what was going on in that head of hers. She never really said much, but it was clear there was a lot happening behind those dark, watchful eyes. You weren’t exactly sure why she’d taken to you, but you were grateful for it. Laura didn’t let many people in, that much was obvious.

“I can show you a movie. Or maybe some music? I usually play somethin’ while I wait.”

Laura glanced up at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Music,” she said quietly.

You smiled, glad she was at least open to that. “Cool. Let’s see what we got.” You pulled out your phone and scrolled through your playlist, landing on something mellow, nothing too upbeat or distracting. You hit play, letting the soft sounds of a guitar fill the room.

Laura leaned against the counter, listening, her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn’t fidgety or impatient, just quiet, like she was absorbing everything around her.

You took another sip of water, watching her from the corner of your eye. “You ever help Logan with stuff like this? Like cooking?”

She shook her head. “No.”

You figured as much. “Well, if he ever asks, you’ll be a pro now.” You winked at her, earning the tiniest of shrugs in return.

You both stood there in a comfortable silence, letting the music play. It wasn’t awkward, just… peaceful. The smell of the cookies starting to bake filled the kitchen, and for a moment, it was easy to forget all the heavy stuff hanging in the air—Logan’s health, Laura’s past, whatever weight she carried that you didn’t fully understand yet.

After a few minutes, Laura spoke up. “I talked to Logan about you… last night.”

You paused, surprised she’d bring it up. “Oh yeah? What’d he say?”

She didn’t answer right away, her gaze fixed on the oven. “He said you’re... different from other people. In a good way.”

A warmth crept into your chest at that. “Well, that’s nice of him to say. I think he’s pretty different too, you know. In a good way.”

Laura looked at you, her expression unreadable. “He likes you,” she said, her tone flat, but there was something in the way she said it, like it was a fact she was still processing.

You felt your cheeks heat up a little. “Yeah? Well… I like him too.”

She stared at you for a moment longer before nodding slowly, like she was piecing something together in her head. “He doesn’t trust people. But he trusts you.”

You swallowed, not quite sure how to respond to that. “I’m glad he does. I mean… I care about him, Laura. And you too.”

Laura’s eyes flickered with something—maybe understanding, maybe something else you couldn’t quite name. She didn’t say anything for a while, just looked down at the floor.

Before the silence could stretch too long, the oven timer beeped, cutting through the moment.

“Cookies are done,” you said, turning to grab the oven mitts. You pulled the trays out, setting them on the counter to cool. The smell was even stronger now, warm and sweet, filling the entire kitchen. “Wanna taste test one?”

Laura hesitated for a second before nodding.

You carefully lifted a cookie from the tray, holding it out to her. “Careful, it’s hot.”

She took it, blowing on it before taking a small bite. You watched as she chewed, her face still neutral, but you could tell she liked it.

“Good, right?” you asked, biting into one yourself.

Laura nodded again, chewing slowly. For a split second, you thought you saw a hint of a smile tug at the corner of her mouth, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.

As you both stood there, munching on cookies, the air felt lighter, like some kind of invisible barrier between you had shifted just a little. You didn’t know all of Laura’s story, but you didn’t need to. What mattered was that she was here, sharing this small moment with you, and that was enough.

“So,” you said after a few minutes, breaking the silence. “What should we do next? More cookies? Or maybe try out that movie?”

Laura looked at the remaining dough, then back at you. “More cookies.”

You grinned. “Good choice. Let’s make this batch even better.”

---

After all the cookies came out of the oven, you sent Laura home with a container of some of the batch. You could never eat them all on your own, and you ended up giving some away anyways, so why not give some to Laura?

You walked Laura to your front door and watched as she crossed the street, her figure disappearing behind the door three houses down. There was always something surreal about the way she moved—so quiet, so controlled, like she had learned to blend into the background. It made you wonder what her life had been like before coming here.

When Laura walked in, the container held tightly to her chest, Logan sat on the couch, the soft murmur of the TV barely audible as he sipped from a whiskey bottle. His eyes flicked over to her as the door clicked shut behind her.

“You were gone a while,” he muttered, his voice rough but not harsh.

Laura shrugged, walking past him toward the kitchen. “Made cookies.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, watching her disappear from view. The faint clinking of a container hitting the counter reached his ears. He knew she didn’t do stuff like this unless someone dragged her into it. “With Y/N?” he asked, taking another sip.

Laura reappeared, nodding as she plopped down beside him on the couch, the container of cookies now on the coffee table.

Logan stared at it for a moment, then gave a small grunt of approval. He reached over and grabbed a cookie from the container, breaking off a piece and popping it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, savoring the sweetness that felt out of place in his usual world of bitterness and whiskey.

“Not bad,” he muttered, glancing at Laura. “You help with these?”

She shrugged again, still watching the TV, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her expression that didn’t go unnoticed by Logan.

“Hmm,” he grunted, leaning back. “Maybe next time, you can bring some whiskey to wash ‘em down.”

Laura didn’t smile, but her lips twitched slightly as if she was trying not to.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, the low hum of the TV filling the room. Logan’s thoughts drifted back to Y/N. He didn’t trust people easily—never had, and probably never would. But Y/N was different. He’d seen how she handled Laura, how she didn’t push too hard or ask too many questions. And she was patient, something Logan knew he didn’t have much of.

“Y/N’s a good one,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Laura didn’t say anything, but she shifted slightly, leaning her head against the arm of the couch.

Logan watched her for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. He knew settling down wasn’t really in his nature, but for Laura’s sake—and maybe a bit for his own—he was trying. And Y/N? She made that easier, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“She ask about me?” Logan asked, more curious than he wanted to let on.

Laura nodded, her eyes still on the screen. “Yeah. I told her you were resting.”

Logan snorted. “Resting. That’s a nice way of putting it.”

Laura didn’t respond, and Logan didn’t push further. He knew what Y/N probably thought—that he was just some grumpy guy with a limp, maybe a few too many scars for comfort. She didn’t know the half of it. But she didn’t pry either, and for that, he was grateful.

“Guess I’ll have to thank her for the cookies,” Logan said after a while, taking another sip from the bottle. His mind wandered to the thought of Y/N—the way she smiled when she was around Laura, how she always seemed to have the right balance of patience and understanding. It wasn’t just anyone who could handle a kid like Laura, let alone make her feel comfortable enough to bake cookies on a Saturday.

“She likes you too, you know,” Laura said suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Logan’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Y/N,” Laura clarified, her tone as flat as ever. “She likes you.”

Logan chuckled, though there was a bit of discomfort behind it. “You don’t know that, kid.”

Laura looked at him, her gaze piercing and a little too wise for someone her age. “She does. I can tell.”

Logan stared back at her, caught off guard by how matter-of-fact she sounded. It was hard to argue with Laura when she had that look on her face, the same look that said she saw through everything and didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

He cleared his throat, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, well… that’s her problem, not mine.”

Laura didn’t react, just turned back to the TV. But Logan could feel her eyes on him for a few seconds longer before she settled back into the cushions.

Logan shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of Laura’s words hanging in the air. He wasn’t used to people ‘liking’ him in the way Laura seemed to imply. People tolerated him, sure, maybe even respected him, but liking him? That was new territory.

He let out a sigh and reached for another cookie. It wasn’t worth thinking about. Not right now.

But even as he chewed in silence, he couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N—and what it might mean if Laura was right.

---

A few days later, you found yourself at Logan’s house helping Laura with some of her English homework. You usually don’t make ‘house calls’ to help students, but you couldn’t deny Laura.

Logan stayed seated in the living room, drinking a beer and watching the TV. But really, he was pretending not to listen to their conversation in the kitchen.

“You’re doing good, Laura.” You said.

Laura shrugged, her eyes flicking over to Logan in the living room. “Can you stay for dinner?” She asked you.

Logan’s head snapped up at that. He hadn’t expected Laura to ask, but there was no denying that the kid had gotten attached to you. Before you could answer, Laura added, “I made something. With Logan.”

That was a lie, of course. Laura had barely touched the stove since the cookies, but she gave Logan a look that told him to back her up.

Y/N smiled softly. “I wouldn’t say no to dinner.” She glanced at Logan. “If that’s okay?”

Logan grunted, shifting his weight. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

Laura gave a small nod, clearly satisfied with the answer. You smiled, pushing the papers aside. “Guess I’m staying for dinner, then.”

Logan shot Laura a look, one that said what exactly are we eating? but she ignored him, turning her attention back to you. “It’s nothing fancy,” she said, which wasn’t reassuring.

“Well, I’m excited. Food always tastes better when someone else cooks it,” you joked, standing up to stretch your arms.

Logan watched you from the corner of his eye as he sat back down on the couch, pretending to be more interested in the muted TV than he actually was. You couldn’t help but notice the way he seemed a little tenser whenever you were around, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He was trying to stay low-key, but you could tell he was keeping tabs on every move you made, every word you said.

“So, what’s on the menu?” you asked, trying to ease the quiet that had settled over the room.

Laura, sitting across from you, didn’t answer right away, like she was carefully considering her next move. Logan’s eyes flicked over to her, waiting for her response.

“Spaghetti,” she finally said, her voice as flat as ever.

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Oh yeah? Sounds good.”

Logan gave a low grunt from the couch, and you could tell by his expression that he was trying to figure out when they’d supposedly made spaghetti. But he didn’t contradict Laura, just took another swig from his beer.

“Well, I’m looking forward to it,” you said, standing up from the kitchen table. “Let me know if you need any help.”

Laura didn’t say anything, just headed to the stove where a pot of water was already simmering. You followed her, glancing at the nearly-empty box of spaghetti on the counter. It was clear she hadn’t done this a lot, but the effort was what mattered. And if it meant spending more time with her—and Logan—you weren’t about to complain.

“I’ll get the sauce going,” you offered, stepping beside her. Laura gave you a slight nod, sliding over to make room.

Logan watched from the couch, his eyes narrowing as if he was weighing the situation. He hadn’t expected you to just roll with it, but then again, you always had a way of adapting.

“So, how’s school?” you asked Laura, trying to keep the conversation light while you opened the jar of sauce.

“It’s fine,” she said, her tone noncommittal.

You stirred the sauce, giving a little shrug. “Well, if you ever need help with any other type of homework, you know where to find me.”

She glanced up at you, her expression unreadable, but something in her eyes softened for a second. “I know.”

The two of you worked in quiet sync, with Laura focusing on the pasta and you keeping an eye on the sauce. It wasn’t long before the kitchen started to smell of tomatoes and garlic, the scent filling the air and making the small space feel cozy. For a while, the only sounds were the bubbling pot and the clinking of utensils.

Logan shifted on the couch, clearing his throat. “Need me to do anything?”

You glanced back at him with a smile. “Just sit there and look pretty, Logan. We’ve got this.”

A low chuckle escaped him, though his face didn’t change much. “That so?”

Laura glanced at Logan, her expression unreadable, but you caught the briefest hint of approval in her eyes before she turned back to stirring the pasta.

Once everything was ready, you and Laura brought the food to the small dining table. You plated up the spaghetti, topping it with sauce and a sprinkle of Parmesan. Logan joined you both, moving slower than he probably realized, and sat down with a grunt.

As you all ate, the room stayed comfortably quiet. It wasn’t one of those forced silences that felt awkward—it was more like everyone was just settling into the moment. Laura was still guarded, but you could tell she was starting to relax, even if it was just a little.

“You did good, Laura,” you said, twirling some spaghetti on your fork. “This tastes great.”

She didn’t say anything, just kept eating, but you saw her shoulders ease up ever so slightly.

Logan, on the other hand, glanced between the two of you, chewing slowly. He hadn’t been big on cooking or anything domestic like this, but he could tell Laura had put in effort. He took another bite, grunting his approval. “Not bad,” he said quietly.

You smiled to yourself. This whole thing wasn’t exactly what you’d planned for the evening, but it was nice in its own way—just simple, like normal people having dinner together.

As you were finishing up, Logan pushed his chair back, grabbing his beer bottle from the table. “I’ll handle the cleanup,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.

You raised an eyebrow, standing to gather a few plates. “You sure?”

Logan waved you off. “Yeah. Laura and I got it.”

You nodded, stepping back. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it then.”

Laura watched you quietly, her dark eyes flicking between you and Logan. You could tell she wasn’t used to this kind of thing, the casual ease of sharing a meal and cleaning up afterward. But she was learning, and it seemed like she didn’t mind having you around for it.

“Well,” you said, grabbing your bag from the chair. “Thanks for dinner, you two. I’ll see you around?”

Logan grunted in acknowledgment, giving you a nod. Laura followed you to the door, her small figure standing by your side as you reached for the handle.

Before you could leave, she spoke up. “Will you come over again?” Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

You smiled softly. “Of course. Anytime.”

She nodded, her face still unreadable, but there was a certain calmness to her now, a trust that hadn’t been there before.

You gave her a little wave before stepping out into the evening air. As you walked back to your house, you couldn’t help but think about how unexpected this had all been.

---

You muttered to yourself, hanging up the phone. Your sink had started to leak, and even though you were fairly handy, when you tightened the pipes, it did nothing.

So here you were, on your lunch break, looking for a handyman that didn’t want to charge you $200 for a quick fix.

Emma walked in, holding a folder with her lesson plans. “So…”

You rolled your eyes, “don’t start.”

“What! I’ve told you, word travels fast. Rose saw you leavin’ his house last night.”

“Rose?” You shook your head, “that woman is 85 and still gossips like she’s 20.” You put your phone down, “I was helping Laura with her English homework.”

"Helping Laura with her English homework?" Emma raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "You mean, at ten o'clock at night? Sure, Y/N."

You groaned, leaning back in your chair. “It wasn’t like that. She’s struggling with some of the writing prompts, and Logan’s... well, you know he’s not exactly the best person for that.”

“Uh-huh,” Emma nodded slowly, setting her folder down. “I’m just saying, you and him… there’s something there. You can deny it all you want, but people see things.”

“People need hobbies,” you muttered. “Besides, Logan’s... complicated. It’s not that simple.”

“I’m not saying it is,” she shrugged. “But you’ve been spending more and more time with him and Laura lately. I’m just curious.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “Curious about what, exactly?”

“Just curious when you're going to admit you like him,” Emma smirked.

“I don’t—" you started to argue, but stopped yourself. “Emma, he’s… I mean, I care about him, but it’s not like that. He’s a single dad with a kid, and I’m just the neighbor who helps out sometimes.”

“Yeah, sure, Y/N.” Emma grabbed her folder and gave you a pointed look, “if you don’t make a move, someone on the ‘Wolverine Watchers’ will.”

You choked on the iced coffee you took a sip of, “the what?”

Emma grinned, “the ‘Wolverine Watchers’. A bunch of women in the town created a Facebook group about him. I joined out of curiosity.”

You blinked at Emma, still processing what she’d just said. “Hold on—there’s a Facebook group about Logan? Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Emma said with a smug smile. “They call themselves the ‘Wolverine Watchers.’ There’s, like, at least 30 women in it. Maybe more.”

You shook your head in disbelief, sinking back into your chair. “That’s insane. Why would anyone even...”

“Oh, please,” Emma interrupted. “Don’t act like you don’t get it. He’s rugged, mysterious, barely speaks to anyone, and he’s got the whole grumpy-silver-fox thing going on. They eat it up. Hell, even I get it.”

You glared at her. “You’re not helping.”

She leaned against the desk, still grinning. “Just saying, don’t wait too long, or one of them might swoop in.”

You waved her off, though a part of you felt oddly defensive about the whole thing. “Logan’s not interested in any of that.”

Emma shrugged, pushing off the desk and heading for the door. “Maybe. Maybe not. But are you interested?”

You opened your mouth to respond before shaking your head. “Okay. I’m going to forget this part of our conversation and continue to try and look for a plumber or handyman.”

Emma laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Fine, fine. But if you need help with Logan or plumbing, you know where to find me.”

She left the room at the same time Laura walked in. She walked over to the front of your desk and stared at you with those eyes of hers. “You need help?” Laura finally asked.

You shook your head, “no. Just need a plumber. The sink in my kitchen is leakin’.”

Laura tilted her head slightly, considering something. “Why don’t you ask daddy?”

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Because your dad’s busy, and it’s not his problem to deal with. I’ll figure it out.”

“He fixed the dishwasher last week,” she pointed out quietly, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “And the dryer.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to bother him with stuff like this,” you countered, trying to ignore how her face lit up every time she mentioned something Logan had done for you. “I’m sure he’s got enough on his plate.”

Laura didn’t respond right away. Instead, she leaned against your desk, her small fingers tapping lightly on the wood. “He likes helping,” she murmured, almost like she was testing the waters.

You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, but quickly glanced away, pretending to focus on the bulletin board behind you. “He’s good at fixing things.”

You watched her for a moment, your irritation from earlier starting to melt away. It was hard to stay frustrated when she was being so earnest. “Okay, okay, I get it. But your dad doesn’t need to be the town’s go-to handyman.”

Laura glanced up at you through her lashes. “Just tell him. Please?”

There was something almost… hopeful in her gaze, and you felt a twinge of guilt. Laura wasn’t the type to ask for much. If this meant that much to her…

“Fine,” you sighed, holding up your hands in surrender. “I’ll ask him. But only because you asked nicely.”

Laura’s lips twitched in the faintest smile, a look of victory crossing her face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but you’re not off the hook yet,” you teased gently. “You still owe me an essay on Newton’s laws of motion, remember?”

She scrunched up her nose, making a face. “I know. I’ll finish it.”

“Good,” you nodded, giving her a playful wink. “And don’t go trying to bribe me with homework just to get me to talk to your dad, okay?”

Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “I would never.”

“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically. “Alright, head back to class. Lunch is almost over.”

She gave a small nod, then glanced back at you before leaving. “He really likes you, you know.”

Your heart stuttered, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Laura—”

“Just saying,” she added quickly before ducking out the door and heading down the hallway.

You stared at the empty doorway, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. Liking you? What did that even mean coming from an eleven-year-old?

You shook your head, trying to push the thought away. Logan was… well, Logan. Gruff, quiet, and often impossible to read. And sure, he’d been more present lately, but that didn’t mean anything. He was just being a good neighbor.

You glanced at the time on your phone, groaning softly. Lunch was almost over, and you hadn’t even finished setting up for the afternoon class.

“Guess I’ll ask him about the sink,” you muttered under your breath, more to convince yourself than anything.

Because if Laura was already noticing things, how long would it be before the whole town started talking?

---

That evening, after school had ended and you’d finally managed to get through the rest of your lesson plans, you found yourself standing in front of Logan’s place. It was only a short walk down the street, and yet, your feet felt heavier with each step.

You could hear the faint sound of a TV through the open window and the soft murmur of voices—Laura and Logan, probably talking about her day. It was… nice. Domestic. Something that made your chest tighten with an inexplicable emotion.

“Just ask about the sink and go,” you whispered to yourself, giving a firm nod. “No big deal.”

You knocked lightly, and a few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Logan. He was in his usual attire—flannel shirt, jeans—and he looked at you with that same unreadable expression.

“Hey,” you said, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze. “I, uh, wanted to ask for a favor.”

His brow furrowed slightly, and he stepped back, gesturing for you to come inside. “What’s goin’ on?”

You hesitated, then took a deep breath. “My kitchen sink started leaking, and… well, I tried fixing it, but I think I made it worse. Laura said you’re good at this kind of stuff, so I thought… maybe…”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You want me to take a look at it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “If you’re not too busy. I don’t want to—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, already grabbing a toolbox from a nearby shelf. “Let’s go.”

You blinked. “Wait, you don’t want to, like, finish dinner or something first?”

He shot you a look that was almost amused. “I’m not gonna let your kitchen flood because of a sink. C’mon.”

You let out a small laugh, relieved by his reaction. “Okay, fair point. Thanks, Logan.”

“No problem,” he grunted, stepping out onto the porch. “Lead the way.”

As you walked back to your place, you stole a glance at him. Logan might have been gruff and intimidating to most people, but you’d come to learn there was more to him than that.

When you reached your house, Logan set to work immediately, inspecting the pipes under the sink. You leaned against the counter, watching as he tinkered and adjusted, his movements methodical and precise.

“You didn’t have to come over right away,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “I know you’ve got a lot going on.”

He didn’t look up, just shrugged. “It’s fine. Better to fix it now than let it get worse.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you murmured. “But still… thanks.”

Logan glanced at you then, his eyes lingering for a moment longer than usual. “You don’t gotta thank me every time I do somethin’ for you, Y/N.”

“I know,” you replied, offering a small smile. “But I want to.”

He gave a low grunt, something between acknowledgment and dismissal, and returned his focus to the pipes. You stayed silent, watching him work, trying to make yourself useful by occasionally handing him a tool or holding a flashlight.

“You’ve done this before, huh?” you asked, breaking the silence again.

Logan didn’t look up, but you saw the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Couple times.”

“Fixing sinks?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Or just everything?”

“Everything,” he muttered. “You learn to handle stuff when no one else can.”

There was an unspoken weight behind his words, something you didn’t pry into. You knew Logan had been through more than he let on—there were pieces of his life you still hadn’t put together, and you weren’t sure you ever would. But that didn’t stop you from being curious.

Instead, you chose to keep the conversation light. “Well, I appreciate it. I probably would’ve made a bigger mess if I’d kept trying.”

He grunted again, this time almost in agreement, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Okay, I walked into that one,” you admitted. “But seriously, thank you. Laura was right—you are good at this.”

Logan tightened the last pipe and stood, wiping his hands on a rag. “She talks too much sometimes.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “She’s just proud of you.”

He didn’t respond, his eyes darkening for a brief moment before he shifted the subject. “It’s done. Shouldn’t leak anymore, but if it does, just call me.”

You nodded, feeling that strange tightening in your chest again. “Got it. Thanks again.”

Logan grabbed his toolbox and started for the door, but something in the air between you both felt unfinished, like there was something unspoken hanging there. Before you could second-guess yourself, you called out.

“Logan?”

He paused, his back to you.

“I meant what I said earlier,” you continued, a little more quietly this time. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, and I don’t want to add to it. But I appreciate you helping me.”

Logan turned, his gaze locking onto yours. There was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place. For a second, you thought he might say something, but then he just gave a slow nod.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N,” he finally said. “If you need somethin’, I’ll be around.”

He turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing in your kitchen, staring after him. You exhaled, feeling a mix of confusion and warmth.

Later that evening, as you cleaned up and prepared for the next day’s lessons, you couldn’t stop replaying the interaction in your head. Logan’s quietness, his willingness to help, Laura’s knowing smiles. There was something stirring there, something more than just neighborly concern.

But you pushed the thoughts aside, reminding yourself of the practicalities. Logan was a single dad with a complicated past, and you… well, you had your own life to focus on. This wasn’t the time to start overthinking things.

Still, as you drifted off to sleep that night, the image of Logan fixing your sink—focused, calm, and oddly comforting—stayed with you.

---

You’ve never liked storms. You’re not sure why, you grew up in Houston where it rained consistently and encountered a few hurricanes.

But when you turned 18, you went to college further north in Texas, getting away from the rain and finally getting sunshine and real heat, not humid heat.

It never rained much in the north of Minnesota, but when it did rain, it rained a lot. So much so that the school cancelled classes for the rest of the week.

You could use the time to catch up on grading assignments, but instead you found yourself barely able to keep your attention on the TV, flinching every time you heard thunder.

The storm outside raged on, lightning flashing every few seconds, followed by the rumble of thunder that rattled the windows. You glanced at the stack of papers you’d set aside to grade, but your mind just wasn’t in it.

“Why does it always feel worse at night?” you muttered, sinking deeper into the couch, trying to focus on the TV.

Then, a knock at the door startled you. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially with the weather this bad.

You got up, hesitating for a second before opening the door to reveal Laura, soaked from head to toe, holding a small flashlight.

“Laura? What are you doing out here?” you asked, eyes wide with concern.

“Our power went out,” she explained quickly, shivering slightly. “Daddy said I could come over here since your lights are still on.”

You frowned, glancing past her toward Logan’s house, which was barely visible in the heavy rain. “Is your dad coming over too?”

Laura shrugged, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “He said he’d figure it out.”

You closed the door behind her, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and handing it to her. “You should’ve just called, you know. I would’ve come to get you.”

Laura gave you a small smile as she dried off. “It’s fine. I didn’t want to wait.”

You shook your head, unable to suppress a smile at her stubbornness. “Of course you didn’t.”

The two of you sat in the living room for a while, Laura settling into the corner of the couch with her legs tucked under her, still glancing out the window at the storm every so often.

“How long’s the power been out?” you asked after a few minutes.

“Since just after dinner,” she replied. “Daddy was gonna try and fix it, but he said it might take a while.”

You nodded, already feeling a little guilty. If the power didn’t come back on soon, you’d probably end up with both of them staying over. Not that you minded, but it was one of those situations where you didn’t want to impose. Especially with Logan.

Almost on cue, there was another knock at the door, this one heavier, more deliberate.

You didn’t even have to look to know it was Logan.

You opened the door to find him standing there, drenched like Laura had been. His hair was plastered to his head, and his usual gruff expression was softened slightly by the rain dripping from his face.

“Come on in,” you said quickly, stepping aside.

Logan entered, shaking off some of the rain before giving you a nod. “Thanks. Power’s out, and I don’t think it’s comin’ back anytime soon.”

You closed the door behind him and offered him a towel, which he accepted without a word. He glanced over at Laura, who had made herself comfortable on the couch, and then back at you.

“You alright with us bein’ here?” he asked, his voice low but genuine.

“Of course,” you replied, waving it off. “I’m not gonna let you sit in the dark with no heat.”

Logan nodded, though there was something in his eyes—something like gratitude, though he didn’t voice it.

The three of you sat in the living room for a while, the storm still raging outside. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable silence, but it wasn’t awkward either. Just... quiet. Logan wasn’t one for small talk, and Laura seemed content just to be around people, her gaze flicking back and forth between you and her dad.

As the night wore on, the storm didn’t let up, and Laura’s eyelids started to droop. You glanced at the clock, noting how late it was getting.

“You’re welcome to stay the night,” you offered, glancing between them. “It’s still coming down pretty hard out there, and I don’t think the power’s coming back on soon.”

Laura perked up at the suggestion, but Logan hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “We’ll be fine,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t wanna impose.”

“You’re not imposing,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “There’s a guest bedroom, and I’ve got blankets. Besides, I’m not letting either of you walk back in this mess.”

Laura, sensing her opportunity, chimed in before Logan could object. “I want to stay,” she said quietly, her eyes big and hopeful.

Logan sighed, glancing at his daughter, clearly torn. “Laura…”

“Daddy, it’s still storming,” she added, her voice soft but insistent. “We can stay, right?”

You jumped in before he could refuse. “It’s no trouble, Logan. Really. Laura can take the guest bedroom, and I can sleep on the couch.”

Logan gave you a skeptical look. “You’re not sleepin’ on the couch in your own house.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s your bed,” he grunted. “I’ll take the couch.”

Before you could argue, Laura piped up again, her voice full of innocent mischief. “You could both sleep in the bed.”

Your eyes widened, and you quickly glanced at Logan, whose expression had shifted to one of slight surprise.

“Laura,” you started, but she just shrugged, clearly enjoying this more than she should have been.

“What?” she said innocently. “It’s a big bed.”

Logan sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re not helpin’, kid.”

Laura just grinned, her eyes gleaming with quiet victory. “I think I am.”

You cleared your throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “I’m fine with sleepin’ on the couch, really. Can’t really sleep when it’s stormin’ anyways.”

Laura, still lounging on the couch, piped up again, her grin growing wider. “You could just share the bed.”

Your face flushed, and you shot her a look. “Laura—”

“What?” She shrugged, playing innocent, but you could see the hint of mischief in her eyes.

Logan sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Kid, stop messin’ around.”

She held up her hands in surrender, but the teasing smile on her face didn’t budge. “I’m just saying it’s an option.”

You shook your head, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “Laura, you’re gonna sleep in the guest room. I’ll be on the couch. End of story.”

Laura rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine.”

Logan glanced at you, his eyes softening for a brief moment before he muttered, “You sure about this? I don’t wanna take your bed.”

You waved him off, trying to sound casual. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Just get some rest. You’ve been out in the rain long enough.”

He hesitated for a second, then gave a small nod. “Alright. But only because you won’t stop arguin’.”

“Exactly,” you said, smiling a little as you grabbed an extra blanket from the hallway closet and tossed it to Laura. “You can get settled in the guest room, kiddo.”

Laura caught the blanket and headed toward the guest room with a little bounce in her step, clearly pleased with how things were turning out. You watched her disappear down the hallway before turning back to Logan, who was still standing in the living room, looking somewhat out of place.

“You can leave your wet clothes by the door if you want,” you offered, trying to keep things normal, even though the situation felt anything but.

Logan gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgment, pulling off his soaked jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. He moved slowly, like he was still debating whether to argue about the sleeping arrangements again, but thankfully, he didn’t.

After a minute, he glanced back at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You really are stubborn, you know that?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Takes one to know one.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he walked past you toward your bedroom. “Fair enough.”

Once he disappeared into the room, you let out a small sigh, running a hand through your hair. This was... not how you expected your night to go. Sharing your house with both Logan and Laura during a storm, with Laura sneakily playing matchmaker. It was almost funny, if not for the fact that Logan being this close made your heart race a little too much for comfort.

You settled back onto the couch, pulling a blanket over yourself and staring at the TV screen without really watching it. The sound of rain pounding against the windows and the occasional crack of thunder filled the quiet, but it was hard to focus on the storm when you knew Logan was in the next room.

Laura had probably planned this all along.

You glanced toward the hallway where the guest room was, wondering if she was already asleep—or if she was lying there, scheming her next move.

Thunder broke you out of your thoughts, making you flinch slightly under the blankets.

You settled deeper into the couch, but sleep wasn’t coming any easier despite the exhaustion from the day. Your mind kept wandering, mostly back to Logan and how natural it had started to feel having him and Laura around. Maybe a little too natural.

A sharp crack of thunder rattled the windows, and you flinched again, instinctively pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. You’d thought you were getting used to storms, but this one was relentless, dragging on with no signs of easing up.

Just when you started to think you’d be up all night, you heard the soft creak of the floorboards behind you. You turned, expecting to see Laura coming out of the guest room, but instead, Logan stood there in the dim light of the living room, looking as uncomfortable as you felt.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady, despite the storm.

He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. “Not used to sleepin’ anywhere but my own bed.”

You nodded, biting back a knowing smile. “Yeah, I get that. Storm’s not helping much either.”

Logan’s eyes flicked to the window, then back to you. His gaze was a little softer than usual, like the storm had taken some of the edge off his usual roughness. “You alright? Heard you jumpin’ every time the thunder hits.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush off his concern. “It’s nothing. Just... not a fan of storms.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Logan said, stepping further into the room. He hesitated for a moment, then moved to sit on the armrest of the couch, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Don’t have to tough it out, y’know.”

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the gentleness in his tone. It wasn’t like Logan to be this open, to offer any sort of comfort. He usually kept things buried under layers of gruffness and distance.

“Guess I’m just used to toughing it out,” you said softly, offering him a small smile.

Logan studied you for a moment, his eyes flicking over your face, like he was weighing his next words carefully. “You don’t always have to. Not with us.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You weren’t sure what to say. This side of Logan—the quiet, protective side—was something you’d only seen glimpses of before, but tonight, it was like the storm had brought down some of his walls.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” you finally said, but your voice lacked its usual conviction.

“Not worryin’,” Logan replied, his gaze steady. “Just statin’ a fact.”

The thunder rolled again, quieter this time, as if the storm was finally starting to let up. Logan’s eyes lingered on you for a beat longer, before he stood up, looking like he was about to head back to the bedroom.

But then he paused, glancing over his shoulder. “If you want... there’s room in the bed.”

Your breath hitched, and you blinked up at him, not sure if you heard him right. “What?”

Logan’s lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, but his expression remained serious. “I ain’t suggestin’ what Laura was earlier,” he muttered, a little embarrassed. “Just... if it helps you sleep better, I don’t mind. Couch’s not exactly comfortable.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. Logan wasn’t the type to offer comfort lightly, and the idea of sharing a bed with him—platonically or not—made your pulse quicken.

“I—” You faltered, unsure how to respond. But something in the way he was looking at you made it clear this wasn’t just about the storm or being polite. This was about something more—something that had been quietly building between the two of you for a while now.

Before you could overthink it, you nodded. “Okay.”

Logan’s eyebrows raised slightly, surprised by your answer. He stepped aside as you stood, grabbing the blanket from the couch. Neither of you said anything as you walked down the hallway to your bedroom, the tension thick but not uncomfortable—more like an understanding had settled between you.

Once inside, Logan shifted awkwardly as you took your side of the bed, pulling the blanket over yourself, trying to act like this was normal, like your heart wasn’t racing in your chest. Logan laid down on the opposite side, keeping a respectful distance, though the bed felt smaller with him in it.

The sound of the rain outside softened, though the occasional rumble of thunder still rolled in the distance. You stared at the ceiling, hyper-aware of Logan beside you, the space between you feeling charged.

“You good?” Logan asked after a minute, his voice low in the quiet.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”

A beat passed. Then another.

“Thanks,” you added, not just for offering the bed, but for being there, for not making this weird.

Logan turned his head slightly to look at you, his eyes soft in the dim light. “Ain’t nothin’.”

But it was something. It was a lot, actually.

You both lay there in silence for a while, the sound of the rain becoming almost soothing. You could feel the warmth of him next to you, solid and reassuring, and slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease.

Just as your eyes started to drift closed, Logan’s voice broke the silence again, so quiet you almost missed it.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured, his voice gruff but sincere. “You don’t have to do this on your own. Not with us around.”

Your heart swelled, a mix of emotions you weren’t quite ready to confront just yet. You didn’t know what to say, so instead, you reached out, your hand brushing against his in the small space between you.

Logan didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled gently around yours, his grip warm and steady.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you fell asleep without flinching at the sound of thunder.

---

You woke up to the sound of soft rain pattering against the window, the storm from last night finally easing up. For a second, you forgot where you were, until you felt the weight of the blanket and the warmth of another presence next to you. Logan. His steady breathing filled the quiet space, and you shifted slightly, careful not to wake him.

This was new.

You glanced over at him, his face relaxed in sleep, the tension he usually carried nowhere to be found. It was strange seeing him like this—calm, almost peaceful. You could feel the residual warmth from his hand where he’d held yours last night, and the memory made your chest tighten.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, not wanting to disturb the rare moment of quiet. You padded out into the hallway, stopping by Laura’s room to peek in. She was still asleep, wrapped up in blankets, her small body barely a lump under the covers.

You smiled to yourself, already suspecting that she had something to do with last night’s sleeping arrangements. Laura was too clever for her own good sometimes.

In the kitchen, you started brewing coffee, the scent filling the small space. As you waited for it to finish, you found yourself staring out the window, your mind still on Logan. Last night had been... unexpected. But not unwelcome. The way he’d stayed close, offering comfort without making a big deal out of it—it meant more than you wanted to admit.

The soft creak of footsteps behind you pulled you out of your thoughts.

“You’re up early,” Logan’s gravelly voice broke the quiet.

You turned to see him leaning against the doorway, his hair still a little mussed from sleep, but otherwise looking much like his usual self.

“Couldn’t sleep much after the storm,” you shrugged, offering him a small smile. “Coffee?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, moving to sit at the kitchen table. “Thanks.”

You poured two mugs, setting one in front of him before taking a seat across from him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, just sipping your coffee in the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

Logan glanced at you over the rim of his mug, his eyes softer than usual. “You sleep alright?”

You hesitated, remembering how easily you’d fallen asleep next to him. “Better than I expected, honestly.”

He grunted in acknowledgment, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Guess the storm wasn’t as bad as you thought.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck. “Or maybe it was the company.”

Logan’s smirk widened slightly, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the kitchen before settling on you again. “Thanks for lettin’ us stay. Laura didn’t give you much choice, huh?”

“She didn’t have to,” you replied with a shrug. “I wasn’t gonna let either of you stay in a freezing house with no power.”

Logan nodded, his eyes drifting to the window. “Power should be back on soon. I’ll head back once it’s up.”

You didn’t say anything, but part of you felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving so soon. You hadn’t had many moments like this—quiet, with just the two of you—and you found yourself wanting it to last a little longer.

Laura’s quiet footsteps broke the silence as she padded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Mornin’, kid,” Logan greeted her.

“Mornin’,” Laura mumbled, glancing between the two of you with a knowing look before plopping down at the table. “Is the power back on yet?”

“Not yet,” you said, trying to ignore the way she was eyeing you and Logan.

Laura just shrugged, grabbing the cereal box from the counter and helping herself. “Guess we’re stuck here a little longer, huh?”

You shot her a look, but she didn’t seem fazed, her focus on her cereal. It was hard to tell if she was playing innocent or if she was just that good at pretending.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” you asked, trying to shift the conversation.

Laura perked up at that. “You said you’d help me with my English homework, remember?”

You blinked. “I—uh, right. Yeah, I did say that.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, looking at Laura. “Since when do you need help with English?”

Laura shot him a quick look before turning back to you, all smiles. “I figured Ms. Aberra would be better at explaining it than you.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, starting to catch on. “I’m sure you’re doing fine in English, Laura.”

She shrugged, playing with her spoon. “Yeah, but it’s better when someone explains it.”

Logan just shook his head, clearly not buying it either, but he didn’t say anything, letting Laura’s little game play out.

“Well,” you said, getting up from the table. “I guess we can take a look at it after breakfast.”

Laura grinned, clearly pleased with how things were going. “Thanks, Ms. Aberra.”

You smiled back, even though you knew something was up. Sure, you had been helping her with English homework for a while now, but she didn’t need the help. When she would show you her essays or answers to questions about a reading, they were always perfect. Still, you played along, grabbing your coffee and heading toward the living room.

“Alright,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at her. “Go grab your stuff, and we’ll take a look.”

Laura jumped up, cereal forgotten, and dashed off to retrieve her things. You settled onto the couch, sipping your coffee and trying to push aside the strange feeling that this was part of something bigger. But what?

Logan followed you into the living room, sitting down in the worn armchair opposite you. He gave you a look—one eyebrow slightly raised, lips set in that half-smirk he sometimes wore when he was figuring someone out.

“She really roped you into this, huh?” he asked, voice low and rough.

You shrugged, trying to seem casual. “It’s not a big deal. I’m used to kids asking for help with schoolwork.”

“Yeah, but Laura? She doesn’t ask for help unless she’s got some kind of angle.”

You laughed softly, but the truth of his words settled somewhere in the back of your mind. Laura wasn’t just a smart kid—she was calculating. You’d seen it in class and at home. The way she observed things, the way she always seemed to know what was going on, even when no one said a word.

“I guess I’ll find out,” you said, leaning back into the couch.

Before Logan could reply, Laura returned, a small notebook and a pencil in hand. She sat beside you, flipping it open to a random page. You glanced at the page, immediately noticing that it was filled with neat, almost perfect handwriting. The essay she’d written didn’t have a single correction or revision mark.

“Alright,” you began, pretending you didn’t see the perfection in front of you. “What do you need help with?”

Laura handed the notebook over, her face perfectly serious. “I just wanted to know if the introduction’s strong enough.”

You skimmed through the first paragraph, and honestly, it was better than anything you’d expect from a sixth grader. If anything, it felt more like she was testing you than asking for actual feedback.

“It’s good,” you said slowly. “Your thesis is clear, and you have a strong opening sentence. You might want to make the transition to your first point a little smoother, but overall, it’s solid.”

Laura nodded thoughtfully, pretending to make a note in her notebook. You watched her for a moment, trying to figure out what game she was playing. There was no way she needed your help, but for some reason, she wanted you here. And Logan, too.

Logan just sat quietly, watching the two of you like he wasn’t quite sure what was happening either. His hand rested on the arm of the chair, fingers tapping lightly. You could feel his presence, steady and grounding, even when he wasn’t saying anything.

Laura glanced at her dad. “Ms. Aberra’s a pretty good teacher, don’t you think?”

Logan’s eyes flicked to you, his smirk back in full force. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

You gave Laura a suspicious look. “You’re not just buttering me up for extra credit, are you?”

Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “No. I just like the way you explain things.”

“Mhm.” You weren’t buying it, but it was hard not to laugh.

The quiet hung between you all for a moment, just the sound of the rain outside and the occasional scrape of Laura’s pencil against her notebook. It felt… peaceful, despite the nagging feeling that something was going on beneath the surface.

“Alright, well,” you finally said, pushing yourself up from the couch. “Looks like you’ve got this handled, Laura. I don’t think you need much help.”

Laura blinked up at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks anyway.”

You caught the look she sent Logan’s way, and suddenly, it clicked. She didn’t need your help with homework—she was just trying to get you to stick around a little longer. Maybe even trying to give you and Logan more time together.

Smart kid.

Logan, of course, said nothing, just watching you with that unreadable expression he wore so well. You could never quite tell what he was thinking, and it both frustrated and intrigued you.

"So," Laura said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "What’s the plan today?"

You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "You’re the one with the notebook full of perfect essays. I thought you had plans."

Laura grinned at that, not even trying to hide it anymore. "I was thinking we could all go out for lunch. Since we’re stuck here."

Logan gave her a look, but didn’t say anything, clearly seeing through her. You stifled a laugh, playing along. "Lunch, huh? You paying?"

Laura shrugged, looking way too pleased with herself. "I’ll ask nicely. Maybe you’ll cover it."

You shook your head, pretending to think it over. "Might be able to swing it."

Logan snorted. "Real generous of you."

"Hey, I’m a teacher. Gotta budget wisely," you shot back, smirking at him.

Laura just smiled, clearly happy with how things were going, and it hit you again—she was definitely playing matchmaker. Subtle, but it was there. Not that you minded. Spending more time with Logan wasn’t exactly a hardship.

Logan leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on you, though. "You’re sure you don’t mind us hanging around?"

You tilted your head, genuinely surprised. "Logan, if I minded, I wouldn’t have let you in. You’re both always welcome here."

For a second, he looked like he was going to argue, but then he just gave a slow nod, like he was accepting it—maybe even appreciating it, though he’d never say that out loud. "Thanks."

You shrugged, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal, even though you knew it kind of was. "Don’t mention it."

Laura got up, stretching her arms over her head before grabbing her empty bowl. "I’ll go get ready for lunch then," she said, already heading to the sink. "I’m starving."

You watched her go, then turned back to Logan, raising an eyebrow. "Think we’ve got time for that before the power comes back on?"

Logan shrugged, his smirk returning. "Could be out a while longer."

"Convenient," you muttered, though there was no real bite to it.

Logan chuckled, a low, rough sound that made something in your chest tighten. He set his empty mug on the coffee table and stood up, stretching slightly. "Guess we better make sure the kid doesn’t eat the place out of food while we wait."

You laughed, following him into the kitchen. The dynamic between the three of you felt easy now, comfortable in a way that surprised you. Even with Laura’s not-so-subtle attempts at matchmaking, there was something natural about how you and Logan were around each other. It wasn’t rushed or forced. Just... right.

Laura appeared from the hallway, already dressed and tugging on her jacket. "Ready when you are," she said, a little too cheerfully.

Logan gave her a look. "We haven’t even decided where we’re going."

"I’ll leave that up to the grown-ups," she said, grabbing her shoes.

You exchanged a glance with Logan, both of you clearly thinking the same thing: this kid was way too clever for her own good. But neither of you called her out on it.

"Alright," Logan finally said, grabbing his jacket. "Let’s get going before the power comes back and ruins her plan."

Laura grinned but didn’t say anything, grabbing your hand as you all headed out into the damp, cool air. The rain had finally stopped, but the sky was still overcast, a soft, gray light filtering through the clouds.

You walked beside Logan, Laura skipping a few steps ahead, her eyes darting around like she was taking everything in. She was always like that—watching, observing. And now you knew why. She was playing a long game, slowly pushing you and Logan closer together, little by little.

You couldn’t help but smile. She was good. Really good.

And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to appreciate her efforts.

---

The school did something special for parents on Valentine’s Day. Instead of just handing out donuts or cupcakes, they did a competition.

There was different challenges for each couple, or pairing, to finish, and to make it even better, their kids would have to guide them on certain challenges, like walking blindfolded to the finish line on the field.

Emma glanced over at you as you were going through the list of parent’s names, making sure everyone had a partner. There were a few single parents, so you had to figure out who they should be paired with. But there was an odd number, one parent would have to sit out.

“So… who’s sitting out?” Emma asked, leaning on the desk next to you. She had that casual curiosity in her tone, but you knew she was just as invested in making sure things ran smoothly as you were.

You chewed your lip, staring at the list. “Looks like we’ve got one extra parent. I’m not sure yet.”

Emma peeked over your shoulder, scanning the names. “What about Logan?”

You paused, looking at the list. Logan’s name was there, as was Laura’s, but you hesitated. He wasn’t exactly the type to jump into school events, especially one that involved blindfolds and teamwork. And while he’d been involved in Laura’s life, you weren’t sure he’d want to participate in something like this.

“Yeah, guess he can sit out. We have an odd number of parents anyways.” You put down the clipboard and looked at the empty donut box, “I’ll be right back. Gonna go to the other room and get another box.”

As you moved toward the door, you noticed Laura sitting quietly in the corner, fiddling with her notebook, watching everything with that usual sharpness in her eyes. She had been quiet all morning, almost too quiet. You gave her a smile before heading to the break room, still feeling a little awkward about pairing up the parents.

Emma stayed behind, her eyes flicking between you and Laura, a slight smirk tugging at her lips like she was onto something.

You weaved through the hallway, your mind still on the whole situation. These parent events were always a little tricky when it came to single parents. You knew Logan wasn’t exactly the type to jump into the school scene, especially for something like a Valentine’s Day competition, but you couldn’t help but think maybe he’d want to give it a shot for Laura.

Grabbing the donut box, you paused for a second. The idea of Logan being there today, paired up with someone else, didn’t sit right. Not that you had any reason to feel that way. It was just... Logan. You weren’t even sure if he’d show up.

When you returned to the room, Laura was still sitting there, now scribbling something in her notebook. She glanced up as you entered, her expression neutral but her eyes watching you closely.

“Everything okay?” you asked, setting the fresh box on the table and moving to grab the clipboard again.

Laura nodded. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“Thinking about the competition?” You smiled, trying to make conversation, but she just gave you a vague shrug.

“Something like that.”

Emma glanced at you, her smirk still there as she made a little noise of amusement. “Logan didn’t strike me as the ‘competition’ type. But who knows?”

You shot her a look, but before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan walked in. Speak of the devil. He looked around, taking in the sight of parents getting ready, kids buzzing with excitement. His eyes landed on you, and he gave a short nod, his usual gruff greeting.

“You’re here,” you said, surprised, trying to keep your voice casual. “Didn’t think you’d make it.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his hands in his pockets. “Laura signed us up. Thought I’d better show.”

Laura, sitting nearby, perked up but kept her face mostly neutral. She wasn’t about to blow her cover, not yet anyway.

“Right,” you said, glancing down at the clipboard. “Well, there’s an odd number of parents, so... I was thinking maybe you’d sit out.”

Laura, quick as ever, jumped in. “Or you could partner with someone else.”

You blinked at her, caught off guard. “Well, yeah, I guess, but we don’t really have—”

“You could partner with Daddy.” Laura said it so simply, like it wasn’t a big deal, like she hadn’t been plotting this for weeks.

Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced between the two of you, clearly realizing what his daughter was doing, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, waiting for your reaction.

You stammered a bit, caught completely off guard. “I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea...”

Laura gave you a look, one that said she knew exactly what she was doing. “It’s just for the competition. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

Logan’s gaze flicked to you again, and this time, there was a slight smirk on his face. “It’s just a game, right? We’ll survive.”

Emma, watching the whole thing play out, was trying very hard not to laugh. “Looks like you’re stuck with Logan, Y/N.”

You felt a wave of heat rise in your cheeks. It was one thing to think about spending time with Logan, but being thrown into a school competition with him—especially with Laura being the mastermind behind it—was another.

“Okay, fine,” you muttered, trying to act like this wasn’t a big deal at all. “I guess we’ll partner up.”

Logan just gave a nonchalant shrug. “Let’s get this over with.”

Laura’s eyes practically sparkled with victory as she hopped up from her seat, already heading toward the field where the first challenge would take place. You followed, trying to shake off the awkwardness, but it was impossible with Logan right next to you.

As you reached the field, the first task was announced: a three-legged race. Of course. Out of all the challenges, it had to be this one. You glanced over at Logan, who was already eyeing the ropes being handed out for the pairs to tie their legs together.

"This should be interesting," Logan muttered under his breath, taking one of the ropes and holding it out for you.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your nerves behind a smile. "I feel like this is a recipe for disaster."

Logan’s lips quirked into a smirk. "Only if you don’t keep up."

"Me?" You chuckled, shaking your head as you bent down to tie the rope around your ankle and his. "You’re the one with the bum leg."

Logan grunted, not arguing, though his usual swagger was still intact. "I’ll manage."

Laura stood off to the side, watching with a faint smile, clearly enjoying the show. You could tell she was pleased with herself, and part of you was too, even if you were trying to act like this was no big deal.

"Alright, ready?" Logan asked, standing up straighter after securing the rope.

"As I’ll ever be," you replied, trying to gauge the best way to navigate the race without falling flat on your face.

The whistle blew, and before you knew it, you were awkwardly hopping forward, one leg bound to Logan’s as you tried to find some sort of rhythm. The first few steps were disastrous—Logan’s longer strides making it nearly impossible for you to keep pace without stumbling.

"Slow down!" you laughed, grabbing his arm to steady yourself as you nearly tripped.

Logan smirked, his hand quickly coming to your waist to keep you from toppling over. "You gotta move faster than that, Y/N."

"Or maybe you need to move slower!" you shot back, trying to adjust your steps to match his. After a few shaky moments, you finally found a rhythm, the two of you moving in sync—well, mostly. Logan’s hand lingered at your waist, steadying you as you both half-hopped, half-laughed your way toward the finish line.

"Not bad," Logan grunted as you crossed the line, not quite first, but definitely not last either.

"Not bad?" You shot him a look, still a little breathless from laughing. "I’m pretty sure we almost face-planted three times."

"Could’ve been worse," he replied with a shrug, that smirk of his still in place.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart was still racing—though you weren’t sure if it was from the race or from the fact that Logan had kept his arm around your waist longer than necessary.

Laura, waiting at the sidelines, gave you both a knowing look as you untied the rope. "You guys were pretty good," she commented casually, though the glint in her eyes said otherwise.

"Pretty good?" you echoed, shooting her a playful glare. "We almost ate dirt, Laura."

Logan grunted in agreement but didn’t say much, just shaking his head as he rubbed his leg a bit. You noticed the slight grimace that flashed across his face—something you hadn’t seen often, but it was there for just a moment before he covered it up.

"Next challenge is... egg balancing," Emma announced from the other end of the field, holding up a spoon and a carton of eggs.

You and Logan exchanged a look, and you couldn’t help but laugh. "Oh, this’ll be fun."

Logan just sighed, clearly less than thrilled about the prospect of trying to balance an egg on a spoon, but he didn’t protest. You handed him one of the spoons as you lined up for the next round.

"You got a steady hand?" you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

Logan glanced at the spoon, then back at you. "Steadier than yours, probably."

"Let’s see about that," you shot back, placing the egg carefully on your spoon. The whistle blew, and you both started across the field, trying to keep the fragile eggs from toppling off. You had to admit, Logan had a surprising amount of focus for a guy who usually looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

"Not bad for an old man," you joked, glancing over at him as you both carefully moved toward the finish line.

"Careful, Y/N. That’s how you get egg on your face," Logan muttered, but you could hear the amusement in his voice.

Just as you were nearing the end, Laura darted over, watching closely. "Come on, you guys can do it!"

It was hard to ignore the pride in her voice—she was definitely enjoying watching you two work together. And maybe, despite the ridiculousness of it all, you were too.

By the time you finished, both of your eggs still intact, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. It was silly, sure, but being paired with Logan for these goofy challenges wasn’t as awkward as you thought it might be. In fact, it was... kind of nice.

"Two for two," Logan said with a smirk, handing his spoon back as the event wrapped up.

"Don’t get too cocky," you replied, bumping his arm lightly as you handed yours in too. "We’ll see how you do with the next one."

Laura appeared beside you again, her eyes bright. "You guys make a good team."

You gave her a sideways glance, trying not to read too much into her words. "Yeah, well, it’s all about teamwork, right?"

Logan didn’t say anything, but his eyes met yours for a brief moment, and there was something there—something unspoken that made your heart skip a beat.

The rest of the day went by in a blur of silly games and laughter, and by the time the event was over, you were exhausted, but in the best way possible. Logan had stayed the whole time, never complaining or trying to bow out early. Laura, of course, was thrilled with how things had turned out, and you couldn’t help but feel like she had succeeded in whatever plan she had been cooking up.

As the parents and kids started to trickle out of the school, you found yourself standing beside Logan near the door. Laura had already run ahead to grab her things, leaving the two of you alone for a moment.

"Thanks for sticking around," you said, glancing up at him. "I know this probably wasn’t your idea of a fun day."

Logan shrugged, his usual nonchalant expression in place. "Wasn’t so bad."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I’m glad you came. Laura seemed to really enjoy it."

"Yeah," Logan agreed, his gaze softening slightly as he looked in the direction where Laura had run off. "She’s a good kid."

"She is," you said, nodding. "And she’s lucky to have you."

Logan didn’t respond right away, but after a moment, he gave a small nod. "Thanks."

There was a brief silence between you, the air charged with something unspoken but palpable. Before you could say anything else, Laura came bounding back, her backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Ready to go?" she asked, looking between the two of you with that same knowing glint in her eyes.

"Yeah," Logan said, ruffling her hair lightly. "Let’s get outta here."

As they started to head for the door, Logan paused, glancing back at you. "See you around, Y/N."

"Yeah," you replied, feeling your heart skip again. "See you around, Logan."

---

It had been a few days since the Valentine’s Day event, and things had settled back into routine. You were sitting in your living room, halfway through grading papers, when there was a knock on your door.

Opening it, you found Logan standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking slightly out of place.

"Hey," he greeted, voice low. "Laura wanted me to ask if you'd join us for dinner tonight. Nothing fancy. Just... thought it’d be nice."

You blinked, surprised by the invitation. Logan wasn’t exactly the type to invite people over casually, but something about the way he stood there, slightly awkward, made your heart skip a beat.

"Sure," you said, smiling. "I’d like that."

Dinner at Logan’s place was unexpectedly warm. Laura set the table with care, and you found yourself laughing more than you expected as Logan recounted some old stories about his past. The tension that usually simmered between you felt different tonight—softer, like you were slowly crossing an invisible line you’d both been careful to avoid.

As you helped clear the dishes, your hand brushed against Logan’s, and the brief contact made you pause. He glanced at you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a quiet acknowledgment of something building between you.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice low, his gaze lingering just a little too long.

“Anytime,” you replied softly, feeling the weight of his eyes on you as you turned to put the plates away. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, but it was hard with Logan standing so close. It was like every time you were around him, you felt like something unspoken hovered between you—something that Laura, in her quiet, clever way, seemed determined to help along.

Laura wandered back into the room, a book in her hands. “Y/N, can you help me with my English homework?” she asked, holding it up and glancing between you and Logan like she hadn’t just interrupted a moment.

You blinked, turning to her with a small smile. “Of course, I can take a look.”

“Great!” Laura said, her voice a little too cheerful. She plopped down on the couch and spread her notebook and book out in front of her. “It’s this essay I’ve got to write.”

Logan lingered by the kitchen counter, his eyes flicking to Laura’s book with an expression you couldn’t quite read. “I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he muttered, and before you could say anything, he was stepping outside, probably to get some fresh air or give you and Laura some space.

You turned your attention back to Laura, still smiling but a bit confused. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got here.”

Laura launched into an explanation, talking about a character analysis she needed to do for class. As you glanced over her notes, though, it struck you that everything was pretty much perfect. Her sentences were clear, her argument made sense, and she’d clearly put a lot of thought into it. Like always, it was perfect.

“Laura… this is really good,” you said slowly, giving her an impressed look. “I don’t think you need help with this.”

Laura’s face stayed impassive, but you caught a faint hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Just wanted to make sure it was okay,” she said casually, glancing in the direction Logan had gone.

Something clicked then, and you had to suppress a chuckle. So this was just another one of Laura’s little schemes to get you to stick around. You were starting to see the pattern—tiny excuses to keep you close, to get you and Logan in the same room more often. It was subtle, but now that you were catching on, it was impossible to miss.

“Well, your essay’s great,” you said, folding your arms as you gave her a knowing look. “But I think there’s more going on here than just English homework.”

Laura’s gaze stayed steady on yours, and for a moment, you could see a glimpse of something deeper in those eyes—something far beyond her years. “He’s lonely,” she said quietly, so softly that you almost missed it.

Your heart gave a small squeeze at that. It was true that Logan always seemed like a man on the outskirts of everything, never quite fitting in. And you knew he and Laura had been through a lot together, more than most people could imagine. But he wasn’t exactly the type to talk about his feelings—or admit he might need someone else in his life.

“Maybe,” you replied gently, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “But that’s something he has to figure out on his own, okay?”

Laura nodded slowly, but she didn’t look entirely convinced. “He likes you,” she said, blunt as ever. “And you like him.”

Your cheeks heated, and you glanced away, trying to keep your voice steady. It wasn’t the first time Laura has said something like this. “It’s not that simple, Laura.”

“Why not?” she asked, her brow furrowing like she genuinely didn’t understand.

You struggled to find the right words. How could you explain that things with Logan were complicated—that you weren’t sure where you stood with him, or if there was even a place for you in his life beyond being Laura’s teacher? And yet, every time you were near him, there was this pull, this quiet magnetism that made you wonder.

“I just… don’t want to mess things up,” you admitted finally, feeling a little silly for having this conversation with an eleven-year-old.

Laura’s gaze softened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “You won’t.”

Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan stepped back inside, his gaze immediately going to the two of you. “Everything okay?” he asked, his tone gruff but laced with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Yeah, we’re good,” you said quickly, trying to push down the strange mix of emotions Laura’s words had stirred up. You stood up, smoothing down your shirt as you gave him a smile. “I should probably get going, though. It’s getting late.”

Logan nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that almost looked like disappointment. “I’ll walk you out.”

He led you to the door, and you hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Laura. She gave you a small, encouraging smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thanks again for coming,” Logan said as he opened the door, his voice a little softer than usual.

“Anytime,” you replied, echoing your earlier words as you stepped outside. The cool night air hit you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the weight of Logan’s gaze on you.

There was a long pause, the kind that felt like something should be said, but neither of you knew what. You shifted on your feet, biting your lip as you glanced up at him.

“Logan, I—”

“Y/N, I—”

You both spoke at the same time, then paused, sharing a startled laugh.

“You first,” Logan muttered, his lips twitching into a faint smile.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just… I wanted to say that I really enjoyed tonight. And I know Laura’s been… well, playing matchmaker or something,” you added with a chuckle, “but I just want you to know that I’m not—”

“Using her as an excuse to get close?” Logan finished for you, his voice dry but not unkind.

You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. “Yeah.”

Logan stood there, his eyes steady on yours, and for a moment, you both let the silence fill the space between you. He shifted his weight, his usual stoic expression softening just a bit, and for the first time, it felt like he was truly considering what to say next.

"Look, I know Laura's been trying to push things," he said, his voice low and gruff, but gentler than usual. "She's... smart, too smart sometimes. But this—tonight—it wasn’t just about her."

You blinked, surprised by his admission. You weren’t used to Logan being so open, especially about anything personal. He seemed to read the surprise in your face and let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck like this was harder for him than any physical fight he’d been in.

"What I mean is," he continued, glancing at the ground before his eyes flicked back up to yours, "it’s not just her, Y/N. I didn’t mind tonight. And that’s not something I say often."

Your breath hitched a little at his words, heart beating a little faster. There was a vulnerability in Logan that you weren’t expecting—a side of him that he clearly didn’t let out much, if at all.

"I didn’t mind it either," you said softly, trying to match his tone, to let him know you weren’t taking this lightly. "And Laura... well, she’s got a way of seeing things."

Logan let out a quiet chuckle, a rare sound that caught you off guard. "Yeah, she does. Sometimes I think she’s too smart for her own good." His eyes softened as he spoke about her, a fondness there that made you smile.

"She just wants you to be happy," you said gently. "And, I guess, maybe me too."

Logan looked at you for a long moment, something unspoken passing between you, and for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was something more here than just a shared concern for Laura. You had always admired Logan’s strength, his quiet loyalty, the way he looked after Laura with such fierce protectiveness. But standing there now, with the night air cool against your skin and Logan’s presence so close, it felt different. More personal.

"You know," Logan said after a long pause, his voice low again, "I don’t exactly have a lot of people in my life. Never been good at that sort of thing. But... you’re good with Laura. And you’re—" He stopped, his jaw tightening for a second like he wasn’t sure if he should say the next part. "You’re good for us."

Your heart thudded in your chest, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you could feel the weight of what he wasn’t saying—the layers beneath that simple statement. You’re good for us. It wasn’t just about being Laura’s teacher anymore. It was about something more.

Your heart thudded in your chest, but you forced a smile to keep things light. “Good for you?” you repeated with a slight chuckle. There was an ache there, something that hinted at how much more those words meant coming from Logan—someone who didn’t let people in easily. The way he looked at you, steady and deliberate, made it hard to brush aside. His eyes held yours a little longer than usual, almost daring you to look away.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice a low rumble, and you couldn’t help but notice how the weight of the night seemed to gather between you, thick in the air. Logan’s usual guarded stance had softened, just enough for you to sense it. He stepped a bit closer, enough that you could feel the faint warmth of him, the earthy scent of cigars and the wild outdoors clinging to his skin.

You shifted on your feet, trying to figure out where this was heading, but the flutter in your chest only grew stronger. Something unspoken seemed to pass between you two, like a current beneath the surface, waiting for one of you to reach down and touch it.

“I think Laura’s got something figured out,” you admitted, voice soft as you kept your eyes on him. “She’s smart enough to see what’s happening here.”

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, barely-there smile. “Yeah, too smart sometimes.” His gaze fell to the ground for a moment, and when he looked back up at you, there was something different there—something raw. “But she’s right. You’re good for us. Hell, you’re good for me.” His words carried a weight, a kind of honesty that took you by surprise, even though deep down, you’d been hoping to hear them for a while.

You swallowed, trying to keep your composure, but your pulse quickened. “Logan, I…” You started to say something—anything—to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat. He was so close now, you could feel the heat radiating off him, and there was a wildness in his eyes that drew you in.

And then, as if some invisible line snapped, Logan took another step toward you, his rough hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His thumb grazed your skin, the touch light but electrifying. “I don’t say things like this often,” he muttered, his voice husky, the growl in it more pronounced now, “but I want you to stay close. For Laura, yeah, but... for me too.”

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, your body reacting to the closeness of him, the way his hand lingered on your cheek. It wasn’t just the softness in his eyes or the tenderness of his touch, but the way he was looking at you, like he was seeing more than just the surface.

“I’ve wanted to stay close,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper, as your hand gently touched his chest. His heartbeat was strong, steady, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, like the pull between you was more than just chemistry.

Logan’s gaze dropped to your lips, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the cool night air, the sound of distant traffic, even the faint light from inside the house. All that mattered was the closeness, the way you could feel his breath mingling with yours.

Before you knew it, Logan was leaning in, and you closed the gap without thinking. His lips pressed against yours, rough and warm, and everything else just melted away. The kiss was slow at first, almost tentative, but then it deepened, and the heat between you flared like wildfire.

His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer against him, and you could feel the solid strength of his body as you pressed into him. The kiss was everything you hadn’t let yourself think about for so long—filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface, waiting to spill over.

Logan kissed like he lived—intensely, without holding back. His grip on your waist tightened as if he was afraid to let go, and you responded in kind, threading your fingers into the rough texture of his hair. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing; just the two of you, connected in this raw, unexpected moment.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, you both stood there for a moment, neither of you saying anything. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and Logan’s forehead rested against yours, his breath still ragged.

“I—” you started to speak, but he cut you off, his voice low and hoarse.

“Don’t,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t ruin it with words, not yet.”

You nodded, biting back whatever thought was trying to escape. The night air felt cooler now, the warmth of Logan’s body contrasting sharply against it, grounding you in the moment. His hand lingered on your waist, thumb brushing your side, and you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers, like even he was surprised by what just happened.

After a long silence, he finally spoke, voice quieter than before. “Didn’t think this’d happen,” he admitted, almost to himself.

You gave a soft laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “Me either.”

His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, and he shifted slightly, his hand moving from your waist to gently brush your cheek. The gesture was so uncharacteristically tender for him that it made your heart twist a little.

For a moment, you both just stood there, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you. Part of you wanted to step back, to put some distance between you and Logan, to give yourself a chance to think. But another part—the stronger part—wanted to stay right where you were, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, the rough edge of his thumb grazing your cheek.

Meanwhile, Laura peeked through the blinds, a smile spreading across her face.

tags: @freythecrazyfae

[the-kipsabian]

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