#but i feel like no matter what i do I'll always just feel like people are looking at me like im from the uncanny valley
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hellsslibrary ¡ 2 days ago
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Could you write about Hiori, Chigiri, and Bachira giving their male!reader boyfriend a blowjob? Maybe Chigiri thigh fucking... Hiori sadistically making you wait to cum, and Bachira with his feet?
Blow it, move it, bite it, ride it. Just come on, make a move on it.
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#a.n. : I absolutely loved writing this, so it's okay!! And it's kind of implied that you're all in Blue Lock... I have no idea where the camera-less bedroom came from, so :).
!!Warnings: male!reader, dom!Hiori and implied dom!bachira, top!reader in Chigiri's part (kind of), blowjob (Hiori), footjob (Bachira), thigh-fuck (Chigiri), Hiori is a sadist, overstimulation (Hiori), Chigiri is a sass (like always), Bachira... A little strange (but in a good way as always, yea). And reader is a football player too. Purely theoretically, one can imagine that this is a strap (except for the Hiori part, of course), so anyone can read it, I don't care anyway.
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Hiori Yo.
Your hand slides through the blue hair for the umpteenth time that night. You have an incredible, overwhelming urge to grab them and plant that face deeper on your dick, but no... You just can't. How many times have you been denied an orgasm? Three or so, or maybe you've lost count.
Only that smug face with those bright blue eyes glowing with joy knows the exact number.
"Yo... Am I seriously unable to cum, even after all this?" you ask, knowing the answer perfectly well, but just like in the past, smoldering with hope that he will break up and give in.
"No," of course he won't, Hiori has been mumbling around your cock, sucking on your thick shaft for the last half hour.
You practically growl in frustration, trying not to move your hips or anything else, because it will only prolong this torture. And all because of what? In training, you didn't score a goal from his pass, which made him angry at you. He gave you such a perfect pass, and you missed it.
"Absent-minded boys like you need self-control, don't you think?" Hiori asks, batting his long eyelashes at you, looking straight into your eyes with that innocent look, which makes you almost melt.
His hand moves rhythmically on your cock while his tongue licks your glans from time to time, sometimes gliding over the base and over the bulging veins. He was clearly enjoying tormenting you like that, watching the precum trickle down your head, which he rather licked off, slurping on purpose.
The bed creaks slightly under your weight, clearly not designed for two people, especially if they are muscular in one way or another. It would probably fall apart if you were doing something more active here, but you don't even want to think about it, considering that you have to explain it to the Ego.
"Please, Yo... I'll do anything, please, it hurts," your voice is quiet, a whimper escapes from your throat; Hiyori's eyes rise to you again and a smile blooms on his lips when he notices tears in the corners of your eyes.
"Whatever you say..." The football player mutters, leaning closer and wiping the tears from your eyes before they can roll down your cheeks. "Okay, I'll let you."
Your hips jerk as you are suddenly pierced by the feeling of his mouth around your cock. Not teasing. Not slow. Uninterrupted. And the persistent, rhythmic sucking of your length, which makes you feel like you're already in Heaven.
Of course, it doesn't take long for you to cum. In just a matter of seconds, the knot in your stomach unties and you cum in Hiori's mouth with a guttural moan, clutching his hair in your hands, pushing into his mouth for a couple of seconds, and then exhaling tiredly.
Yo straightens up, licking the droplets of your cum from the corners of his lips, looking at your peaceful face, and then suddenly squeezes your softened cock.
"You said you'd do anything, darling," the blue-eyed man whispers, ecstatically watching your surprised face... If you don't like the deprivation of orgasm, then you will have to accept your fate of overexcitation.
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Chigiri Hyoma.
"Mmm, you're enjoying this too much, big guy" Hyoma says, as he stares at your barely present face as you fuck between his thighs.
You wanted to fuck him so damn badly for real, just slide inside those damn tight muscles, but you didn't have too much time until the end of the break, so you had to manage somehow.
"I'm sorry... You have juicy thighs, has anyone ever told you that?" you ask, squeezing his knees a little tighter, trying not to put too much pressure on his right leg, rubbing your cocks together with your movements.
"Yes, thank you. You've said that about eleven times, if I remember correctly. For the last ten minutes," he replies, shrugging his shoulders, looking at how your cock slides between his thighs, over his smaller penis, smearing the precum on your stomach.
His hands instinctively grab onto the sheets, and he moans softly, arching his back. Your cock perfectly covered his own length from below, perfectly rubbed against the head, touching the sensitive bridle. Your "waters" were mixed together.
"We have a training session soon, come on... Otherwise, they'll be looking for us. And they will definitely find us, considering that you don't even hide your moans," Chigiri cheers you on, squeezing his own hips harder, which even started to make a sound from how your cock bumped lightly against his muscular thighs.
"I'm sorry..." you mumble it again, just staring at Hyoma's stomach, where you could see your cock sliding in and out of his thighs.
He snorts, placing his own hands on your palms, which are holding him under his knees, pulling you out of your semi-trance. His red eyes seem to be staring into your very soul, still filled with their usual cocky sparkle, but now clouded with lust.
"What?" your voice is softly heard in the empty bedroom, followed by Chigiri's moan as your cock grazes the bridle of his own again, and he exhales, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Nothing, nothing... You're just drooling," the red-haired man whispers, and you see a drop of water from your chin land on the back of Hyoma's thigh.
... Well, maybe you enjoyed it a little too much. So what? You're a simple man.
You quickly wipe your mouth on your shoulder, pushing Chigiri a little harder into the bed, making his back arch even more and a moan escapes your lips when you feel a familiar feeling in your stomach.
"Huh... Come on, come on, come on. Let's get together, okay? I want you to come, please..." Chigiri whispers, completely unaware of how much more beautiful he is now with red cheeks and a face bathed in pleasure... But what's the difference, huh? Your pace started to become less rhythmic and increasingly rough.
The sound of tremors echoed more and more through the almost empty room, and there it was... White light behind the eyes, two male moaning voices.
Ka-sploosh!
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Bachira Meguru.
"This is a fun position, you know?" Bachira chuckles in your ear as he literally hangs on your back, his arms wrapped around your neck and his legs resting on your cock, rubbing it lazily.
"Are you sure you're comfortable? You can always sit forward..." You ask as his chest presses closer to your back and he kisses your cheek long and hard with a smile.
"Thanks for caring! But it's okay, really... Let's give [Your name] the younger a little more attention?"
You moan, throwing your head back on Bachira's shoulder as he starts to move his feet a little more actively. One of his feet runs along the length of your cock, while the other lifts your shaft. How does he even bend his legs like that? Who knows these football players.
His lips slide down your neck, covering it with kisses, occasionally sucking on your skin, making you sigh softly in pleasure. The forward's feet wrap around your entire length, starting to rub it in perfect synchronization.
"Megu... So good, it's weird, but good," you whisper into his neck, inhaling his scent mixed with the light scent of sweat, considering you're both post-workout.
"I'm glad! And he seems to like it too... Or is it her?" Meguru is seriously discussing the gender of your dick... Oh, the things you put up with for this man, honestly.
Your hand slides behind you, supporting his hip, so that it would be at least a little easier for him. Although he doesn't seem to care, because his feet move and hold your cock just perfectly.
His toes deliberately touch your veins along the base or run along the head of your cock, his heels sometimes stroking in circles on your balls, which are getting tighter with each passing second.
Why the hell did you even think to ask him about this? You looked at some new dribble he came up with, and your brain switched off and you asked him. Of course, it's not surprising that he agreed, but fuck...
Who knew that his feet were talented with more than just a soccer ball, right? Your balls were also satisfied, it seems.
"Want to cum? You always can, you know," a sweet voice breaks you out of your thoughts as Meguru presses his heel lightly on your balls, causing you to twitch a little, causing him to smile even wider.
"Of course... You'll make me cum embarrassingly fast..."
"There's nothing embarrassing about it! You make me cum just as fast when...! Mhmhm!"
He lightly punches your chest as you push your head into his neck to shut him up and not embarrass yourself any further.
The feel and sight of his toes on your cock is enough without him saying anything. Your cock twitches in his feet, but he holds it expertly, continuing to rub your cock, as if his orgasm depends on it, not yours. Although it's the same thing to him.
"B-Bachi..." You whine, really embarrassingly fast cumming as your sperm drips down his feet and he kisses your cheek encouragingly.
And then he cries out as you fall backwards, pinning him down and he immediately pushes you aside, looking at you.
"Fallen asleep? He must have enjoyed it too much," Meguru chuckles quietly, looking at your sleeping face, and then covers you with the blanket, kissing your forehead. "Now, shower! Just don't leave marks... Or [Your Name] will scold you, Meguru."
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woso-dreamzzz ¡ 2 days ago
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Different: Christmas
Katie McCabe x Teen!Reader
Summary: Christmas with Clover
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"Coopurr...Coopurr, man, knock it off!"
Your mum's cat continues to try to attack your feet under the safe covers of your bed.
"Coopurr! Come on!"
"You can just kick him off the bed," Your aunt Ella says from the doorway and you finally sit up in bed.
"I can't because he's the only sane person in this house! Do you know what it's like leaving with you two?"
"Amazing?"
Your mother pops her head through the door. "The most perfect thing in the world?"
You let out a bark of laughter. "You wish."
Katie winks. "I don't have to wish for something that's already true."
"The most perfect thing in the world is you leaving me here for Christmas."
It's Katie's turn to laugh now, pulling down your blankets and allowing Coopurr to bat at your now exposed toes.
"No chance," She says," Come on, up! We've got the flight back home this evening."
"Just leave me here to rot!" You say dramatically and Katie laughs again.
"You know, if you're here alone then you have to cook for yourself," She points and you sigh, finally sitting up in bed and scooping Coopurr into your arms.
"Fine," You say," But don't think I'll be happy about it."
"You're never happy about anything."
"Kim'll tell you that it's because I'm a teenager."
Katie cracks a smile. "You know what? Kim's onto something."
You roll your eyes as you get out of bed as Katie's eyes narrow.
"You haven't even started packing yet, have you?"
"I was still banking on us staying here."
Katie plucks Coopurr from your arms with an eye roll, trying to push you along with her foot. "Go and pack. And make sure to bring lots of jumpers! You know my parents don't like turning on the heating in Winter!"
You rolls your eyes as you go rummaging around in your wardrobe for your suitcase.
It's not like you don't enjoy going back to Ireland. On the contrary, you love going back to Ireland. You just didn't enjoy how big of a family you have.
Certain members of the family seemed to delight in reminding you that you weren't actually Katie's daughter. It didn't seem to matter to them that Katie had been a mother figure to you all your life. It didn't seem to matter to them that you barely even remembered your biological parents.
All that seemed to matter to them was pointing out that you were technically, biologically, Katie's little cousin.
You stuff whatever's clean and visible into your suitcase with little regard to what clothes you're actually packing before practically throwing the suitcase down the stairs.
"Stop trying to break stuff!" Katie yells.
"Ella's the one that broke the hallway table!" You yell back with a laugh," She came in drunk and fell over it!"
Ella gasps in horror from her room. "You said that you wouldn't tell her that!"
"And you said you would get me ice cream. But here I am...Ice creamless!"
You don't actually get your ice cream, even at the airport when you very pointedly show a selection of ice creams to Ella and she promptly ignores you.
Pulling up to your grandparents' house has always been a bit daunting to you. Before Katie adopted you, you lived in that house too, once upon a time.
Now though, it feels you with trepidation.
Most of the family is probably already there and you just know you're going to have to end up sharing a room with more people than just Katie.
You're right, of course, when a few other aunts and uncles arrive. Katie's aunts and uncles, of course, but also kind of yours. But you'd never really considered them that.
They were related to your biological parents and, again, you barely remembered them. You'd grown up with Katie as your maternal role model so it made sense to you as you got older that her siblings ended up filling the roles of aunts and uncles to you.
"You feeling okay?" Katie asks, hand gently covering yours as you sit on the squished sofa and pick at the Christmas Eve meal that her mother made for everyone.
"I...Yeah, I just..." You look up at one of the older men in the room, the one that always insisted on calling you anything but Katie's daughter. "I'm just going to the toilet."
"You feel sick?" Katie sits up properly, eyes narrowed as they flick over your face, searching for a flush or anything that shows you're feeling under the weather.
"No! No...I...I just need a bit of a breather, you know?"
"Yeah, kind of overwhelming around here, huh?"
"Yeah...I'm just gonna..."
"Yeah, you go ahead."
The mirror in the bathroom clearly hasn't been cleaned in a while, covered in little water droplets but you don't really mind as you splash your face with water a few times and stare at yourself, gripping the sides of the sink in a white knuckle grip.
It takes you a while to psych yourself up, enough time that you're pretty sure dinner has been finished and people have moved onto dessert.
It's usually loud in the McCabe household and on Christmas Eve, it's no different.
Lots of people fighting over the remote and someone singing a horrific Christmas carol and someone else lecturing someone on the correct way to cook a turkey even though everyone knows that no matter how a turkey is cooked, it always comes out dry.
But this yelling is different and you definitely recognise the voice of one of the people yelling.
"Get your bag!" Katie yells, finally spotting you lingering in the doorway.
"Wh-What?"
"Your bag!" Katie snaps before sighing and softening her voice," Can you go upstairs and grab our bags? Wait for me by the door."
You know better than to try and ask her things when she's like this so you leave to grab everything, coming down to catch the tailwind of her yelling.
"-She is my daughter and she will always be my daughter, no matter what any of you people think!"
"Katie-"
"No! I won't hear it! She's my daughter and I love her and it's none of your business anyway!"
"You can't just leave, it's Christmas tomorrow!"
"Yes! And I will be spending Christmas with my daughter! I don't care if it's just the two of us. If it has to be that way then it will!"
Katie looks surprisingly calm when she joins you at the front door.
"I don't think we'll get a flight at this hour," She says," But I reckon we could still catch the ferry and then we'll take a cab back home, sound good?"
You smile at her. "I might have accidentally left your present at home anyway."
She laughs. "That's 'cause you're psychic. You knew we were spending Christmas at home this year."
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axolotl4days ¡ 2 days ago
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Batfam au angst :) also leading into (platonic) yandere batfam
What if Jason wasn't the first kid to die :)
And what if Damian wasn't Bruce's only biological kid :)
Au idea I'm simple terms: what if Bruce had a daughter in his early years of batman, who went missing and dead, but then years later reappeared and was found again, Bruce and the others won't make the same mistake twice.
Author's note before reading: Please keep in mind I'm new to this fandom, so I don't know much about what's canon. I simply get creative ideas really easily and have decided to share them.
If anyone else likes this idea, feel free to rewrite or add onto the concept, if you do please tag me I'd love to see what others do with this concept
I'm picturing reader to be the same age as or potentially slightly younger than Damian, but no specific ages are mentioned
Damian POV:
It was a day like any other, awful, Damian had to go to school. He didn't hate school, just the people there, loud, annoying, nosy.
He went about his day the same as always, reading in class and working on his work, until suddenly the principle came to class abruptly saying they had a new student, which the teacher promptly assigned to sit next to Damian. Great.
The teacher also informed him that he would be the one to show this new student around. So Damian braced himself for the extra annoying questions about him and his family, after all that's what people always want to know.
But to his suprised? This girl didn't care about any of that, simply asking questions about the class and school. She didn't even ask if he was really a Wayne, she looked a bit suprised but it wasn't the usual suprise most people had, and she didn't ask him any questions about it so it didn't matter.
As he showed her around he found out that they had the same classes, he heard her sigh of relief, but when questioned she said she was glad because it ment she wouldn't be alone in any of her classes and she'd have someone to turn to.
As the day went on they would go to class and work on classwork, it seems his new classmate was a lot smarter than the rest of them and he didn't have to constantly help her with work.
At the end of the day he made a mental note of a new acquaintance.
Later that day
"Ah, Master Damian, welcome back. How was your day at school?" Alfred asked, greeting the young boy
"It was alright Pennyworth, we had a transfer student today, but she seemed to be quite intelligent unlike the rest of those peasants" Damian replied
"Oh? A transfer student? In the middle of the school year? How odd."
"Yeah, I'll keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior, but there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, her name is Y/n." Damian said, but after saying her name he noticed Alfred looked pale
"Pennyworth? Are you feeling ill? Do I need to inform father?" Damian asked
"No no, I'm quite alright, it's just, I... used to know someone with that name, so I was suprised to hear it. That's all." Alfred replied, but he still looked pale
"If you say so. I'm going to head to my room and work on schoolwork before it's time for patrol" Damian said, and he was gone without another word
Alfred's POV:
'Calm yourself Alfred. It's a normal name that anyone could have, besides, it's been 20 years. Even if it was her she wouldn't be part of the young masters class. Still... I should inform Master Bruce, incase he mentions this classmate' Alfred thinks to himself before heading to the batcave.
There he finds both Bruce and Tim, working on the computer, searching for sightings of criminal activity, recently rumors of a new villain with unknown powers had started to arise, so it was the batman's job to keep Gotham safe
"Ahem, apologies for interrupting, but I need to borrow Master Bruce for a moment" Alfred says
"Did something happen Alfred?" Bruce asks
"No, not necessarily, it's nothing serious but we need to talk" Alfred replies
Bruce gets up and follows Alfred out of the room
"What is it Alfred? You look like you've seen a ghost." Bruce states
"Apologies Sir, as I said, it's nothing serious, however Damian informed me of a new classmate at school today" Alfred starts
"In the middle of the year?" Bruce comments
"That's what I said, however that isn't the point, I simply wanted to let you know before hand, incase the young master mentions this classmate infront of you.." Alfred pauses
"That's it? Why would you need to inform me of that" Bruce asks confused
"Well you see. He said that her name was... Y/n" Alfred states, and Bruce becomes just as pale as he is
"I see.... did Damian tell you anything else about this.... classmate?" Bruce asks
"No, he did not. But simply stated he'd keep an eye out for anything suspicious." Alfred said
"I understand." Bruce said with a deep sigh
"Are you alright Master Bruce? I know it's been a long time but-"
"I'm fine Alfred. I just... I'm fine. I need to head back to work now, we still don't know what this new villain is capable of, or what they're after." Bruce says, turning away
"Alright sir, if you insist. Please take care of yourself."
Alfred says, but he knows how Bruce is
The patrol went on as normal, and so did school. Nothing particularly interesting happened it was a week like any other, Damian and y/n would work on schoolwork together during breaks, since y/n joined late she had a lot of work to catch up on but she didn't have much trouble and Damian helped her when she did. The two had even become friends, turns out they had a lot in common, and some classmates tried to joke about how they were like siblings, but the two didn't mind. The jokes did make Damian aware of how... familiar y/n looked. He pondered the idea of her being a child from a one night stand, but the timelines didn't match up so he brushed the thought away, thinking it was a coincidence that she looked so much like Bruce. But nothing out of the ordinary happened of note, not until one fateful patrol where Damian made a discovery
Y/n POV:
Y/n didn't know where to go after waking up again, it was clear so many things have changed, and her dad taught her well. She needed more information before she made any decisions.
Unfortunately this ment she had no place to stay. After all, she couldn't go to an orphanage, she wasn't an orphan and she didn't have any documents or a story on where she came from. She knew better than to go to the police, what would she even say to them? So here she was. Sitting under a bridge hoping she won't get sick. But she was strong, she'd do what she'd have to in order to understand the situation better. Even if that means sleeping under a bridge like a troll, even if it means only eating the food provided by the school, even if it means-
"Hello there. Are you alright?" A voice asked making her jump
She turns to see, some sort of vigilante. She had heard in passing about how her dad Batman wasn't the only vigilante in Gotham anymore, so she figured it was one of them
"Oh um, I'm alright" she replied, she hadn't planned to meet any of them, she knew she might meet batman, which she kind of hoped for because then she could get some answers, but this was new territory this was- wait a minute why does he kind of look like Damian?
"Are you sure? Your sitting underneath a bridge at night, kids shouldn't be out here like this you could get hurt. Or worse. Why aren't you with your parents?" The vigilante (Damian) said, after recognizing his classmate, assessing the situation
"It's... complicated" y/n replies, before wondering how much she should tell him "I... can't really talk about it, but I can't go back home.. not yet at least, and I don't have anywhere else to go, so I've just been here" she states, hoping she didn't say to much
The vigilante just stays there for a moment, not saying anything, and she wonders if she said to much or if he thinks she's a criminal
"I see. In any case, you shouldn't be out here alone, the streets of Gotham aren't safe, however if you insist on staying out here may I suggest somewhere that isn't so easily spotted? You wouldn't want to be attacked. I know a few places that are safer than.. this" The vigilante says offering a hand
"Oh, uhm" y/n thinks for a moment, weighing her options "I'll take you up on that offer, it's not great down here" y/n replies, taking his hand
The two go to a more remote, slightly cleaner area
"Here we are, even if it's temporary this would be a better place for a shelter than where you were before. I don't know what's going on, but if you need assistance, im willing to help" the vigilante replies
"Thank you, you've really been more than enough help and I appreciate it a lot. If I need anything il let you know....."
"... Robin. My name is Robin." Robin says, noticing her pause
"Robin... thank you for the help, good luck with the rest of your patrol" y/n says
"Of course, you be careful now, always keep an eye out." Robin says, before leaving
'Phew.... he's gone. That was definitely him, and he definitely recognized me. Now what. He didn't say anything so they're definitely still doing the secret identity thing. I guess I'll just have to play it cool and hope he doesn't say anything at school. If any of the teachers find out I'm definitely gonna get investigated and then my whole plan will be thrown out the window.' Y/n thinks to herself 'Maybe this is a good thing, if he's Robin, it's likely that dad's still Batman too, which means I might run into him. What if he doesn't recognized me? What if he does recognize me?? What if- what if he didn't miss me.... no, no! This is dad, of course he missed me but it's been... so long... what do I do if he doesn't want me back...' y/n starts to worry about before she falls to the floor and starts to cry
Which, unbeknownst to her, Damian saw, he doesn't know why she's crying or why it makes him feel so... protective but he knows somethings up, so he goes off and reports what he knows to Batman
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aaaaand cliffhanger! Mwahahahaha
I would have kept going, and I know exactly what's coming next, but I've been typing for awhile and I have no idea how long this post is, and I don't want it to be too long
So I'm stopping it there,
This wasn't supposed to be this much but my creative brain decided to run with this idea, so there's gonna be a part 2 soon
Also I've decided to call this au
Batman Dead Daughter Au
Because.... idk what else to call it and if I'm gonna make a part 2 and potentially more depending on how this goes, I'm gonna need something to refer to it with.
As I said before, I'm extremely new to the batman stuff
Pretty much all of my knowledge comes from youtube and tumblr, so bare with me if things are out of character
I've also never written fanfiction before, it's always just been in my head, so the writing is probably a bit funny
Yes I'm a writer in the making but I haven't actually gotten to the writing part
And fanfiction is a bit different
Hope yall like the concept tho
Again, feel free to write your own version of this if you want to, just tag me so I can read it too lol
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frostimochi ¡ 2 days ago
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second best
(logan howlett x reader)
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summary: You and Logan are both in love with people completely out of reach. After a seemingly innocent joke made for you and him to get together, the two of you brush it off. But as days pass, the idea seems less ridiculous. Then one night, Logan approaches you, finally agreeing to the idea--and what starts as a fake relationship soon takes an unexpected turn.
word count: 17.6k chapter count: 10/10 (finished!) author’s note: ok this is my very first time posting any media i've made on tumblr...i can't guarantee i'll do it again, but i will def be writing more on my ao3 account if you wish to see more! this is also a mix of the x-men films and x-men ‘97 for context. it's a bit rushed but i hope you all enjoy! :)
chapter 1 - what we carry
The night was tense. Clouds of smoke, smoldering debris choked the air, and the distant sound of sirens echoed through the city. It was another X-Men mission coming to an end. You crouched low behind the crumbling remnants of an abandoned building, your heart hammering in your chest as you peeked around the corner. Flames flickered in the distance, casting shadows across the deserted street.
But you weren’t alone; Logan crouched beside you, eyes sharp and focused, his senses tuned into the slightest movement in the darkness. He grunted softly, the usual gruff in his voice present, even when he whispered. "They’re circling around. We need to move."
You nodded, adrenaline still coursing through your veins after the battle that had nearly gone sideways. The mission had been simple enough on paper, but nothing ever went as planned in the field. What was supposed to be a routine infiltration turned into an all-out firefight when the enemy showed up in greater numbers than anticipated.
"Stick close," Logan added, his eyes flicking to yours for just a moment, a brief concern crossing his usually impassive face. "You good, bub?"
"Yeah, I’m fine," you lied, already feeling the dull ache in your side from where you’d taken a glancing blow. You could push through it, just like you always did. This wasn’t your first mission, and it certainly wouldn’t be your last. But the fatigue was beginning to weigh on you, not just from the fight, but from everything else—specifically, your own personal endeavors from a few days back.
You and Remy have gotten awfully close. Closer than you probably should have allowed. But he was still wrapped up with someone else, and that reality gnawed at you. The thought lingered as you and Logan crept forward. It wasn’t just the mission weighing on you tonight.
As the two of you moved through the shadows, working your way toward the extraction point, your thoughts only continued stranding to Remy. The way he’d effortlessly deflected attacks earlier, how his movements were always so fluid and confident. You couldn’t help but admire him, desire him. A familiar pang hit your chest, knowing the truth deep down; he only had eyes for Marie.
Just like Logan only seemed to have eyes for Jean.
The thought made you glance at Logan, who was scanning the area ahead. Even now, you knew he was thinking about her, about Jean. The woman who could never be his, no matter how much he wanted her. In the end, you were both stuck in this endless cycle of wanting someone who was just out of reach.
The extraction point wasn’t far, but just as you neared it, a gunshot cracked through the air. You flinched, instinctively ducking as Logan pushed you back against the wall, his body shielding yours.
"Stay down," he growled, his claws extending with a sharp snikt. He didn’t hesitate, charging toward the threat before you could react. The sound of a struggle echoed through the alleyway as you pressed a hand to your side, wincing.
By the time you caught up, Logan had already taken care of the attacker, standing over him with a dark look in his eyes. His claws retracted as he wiped the blood off his knuckles with a grimace.
"Let’s get the hell out of here," he muttered, his voice low. 
You didn’t argue, following him in silence as you both slipped into the shadows, heading for the jet. You were the last few to escape, as the night felt colder, with the exhaustion hitting you full force as the adrenaline began to fade.
. . .
Later, as the two of you sat in the dimly lit jet, silence stretched between you and Logan. The mission was over, but the weight of everything else from your physical pain, to personal life still stuck at the back of your mind. You leaned back in your seat, staring out the window as the city disappeared beneath the clouds.
"You alright, Y/N?" Logan’s voice broke the silence, his gaze still on you, seeing you still holding onto your side.
"Yeah," you replied, though the aching pain had gotten worse, and your thoughts still scattered. But you knew he wasn’t asking about the mission.
"Doesn’t seem like it," he remarked, a knowing edge to his tone. “You’re awfully quiet.”
You looked over at him, unsure if you wanted to brush it off or actually talk about what was on your mind. 
"I don’t know, Logan," you admitted quietly. "Everything just feels... off lately.”
His eyebrows furrowed in questioning, as you continued. You didn’t feel any reason in hiding it anymore, since there wasn't anything left you could do at this point. The fatigue didn’t help either. Processing a single thought was a different pain on its own.
“Just wishin’ Remy looked at me the same way as Rogue.” you replied in a soft-spoken whisper. 
He didn’t respond right away, just leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment.
"You’re not the only one," Logan finally said, his voice low and rough. "Sometimes it feels like I’m just also going through the motions, you know?”
He paused.
 “Jean... she’s never gonna look at me the way I want her to. Not while she’s with Scott."
"You ever get tired of it?" you asked suddenly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. Logan looked over at you, one eyebrow raised.
“Of what?”
“Wanting someone you know you’ll never have?”
Logan let out a low, almost bitter laugh, leaning back in his seat. "More than you know. But it’s not exactly something I can just turn off, you know? Not in my nature."
"Yeah, well, easier said than done," you muttered, trying to shrug it off. "I have bad luck with these things.”
Logan didn’t respond right away, just watched you with that quiet intensity of his, noticing what others overlooked. You could feel his eyes on you, the weight of his presence grounding you, in a way that Remy’s never had.
"Luck’s overrated," Logan said finally, his voice low and steady. "We make our own way without it."
Another beat of silence passed, the air thick with everything left unsaid. But something about the quiet was comfortable now. You weren’t alone in your hurt anymore, and neither was he.
"We’re a real messed up bunch, huh?" you said, forcing a small laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
Logan smirked, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah. A real bunch of idiots.”
You silently nodded in agreement, the heaviness in your chest finally settling. You both sat there, the weight of your unspoken heartaches still lingering in the room. It was strange how easy it was to talk to Logan about it, but you knew he understood it quite well. To want someone so badly, yet know you could never have them.
Maybe that's why, despite the exhaustion, despite the pain and confusion, you could finally let yourself close your eyes, knowing that even though you couldn’t have everything you wanted, at least you had this moment. This understanding. And maybe that was something worth holding onto. For now. 
chapter 2 - what we seek
Back at the mansion, things had settled back into a familiar routine. The mission was behind you, but it didn’t stop the heartache for Gambit slipping back in. The lingering feeling always felt like a stab in the chest, a constant reminder of what you couldn’t have.
The truth is, it was supposed to happen. You and Remy had planned it out several nights ago: a quiet, simple evening away from the team, just the two of you. There had been moments; rare, unguarded looks from him that had felt like a promise, a hint of something more. You’d felt it, that same, exhilarating thrill that always seemed just within reach, and for once, you’d let yourself believe in the possibility of something more. But in the end, the odds never seemed to work out in your favor. He stood you up, and was later found reconnecting, rekindling his love with another woman from his past.
Rogue. Marie. 
You had nothing against her—hell, you admired her deeply, and spoke with her several times outside of missions and training. You were sure she didn’t know about what had been happening between you and Remy. You couldn’t deny they were both drawn together in a way that was undeniable, magnetic. Whatever was between you and him had been put aside. You knew it would never compare.
In the end, it was easier to keep to yourself, easier to pretend nothing had changed, but the pain of wanting something just out of reach, kept you from finding any real peace. And in those moments, you found yourself drifting, walking the halls of the X-Mansion at odd hours, going places where you knew no one else would be.
One of those nights, you stumbled to grab any kind of sustenance. The kitchen was quiet, as you poured yourself a late-night drink. A few footsteps from behind broke the chaos of thoughts bursting in your mind, and you turned to see Morph entering with their usual grin. They slid onto a stool, giving you a once-over with exaggerated curiosity.
“So... heard you and Wolverine had a heart-to-heart last night,” they said, a smirk forming.
You rolled your eyes, setting the bottle down, visually annoyed. “Does anyone around here not know everyone else’s business?”
Morph shrugged, leaning back in their seat. “Hey, it's not my fault the walls are thin.”
You let out a sigh, swirling your drink absentmindedly. "And what does everyone think they know, exactly?"
Morph grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. "Not much... just that two lonely souls found a little solace in each other’s company after a rough mission." They paused, quivering an eyebrow. "Did I miss anything?"
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. "Sometimes, Morph, you’re worse than the tabloids."
"All I'm saying," they continued, "is that sometimes we get so caught up in what we can’t have, that we miss what’s right there."
Raising an eyebrow, you took a sip of your drink. It burned through your throat as you slammed it back down on the table. You took a heavy breath before responding. “Oh? Enlighten me.”
“You and Logan should get together. Problem solved.” Morph crossed their arms, looking far too pleased with himself.
“Right,” you snorted, but his comment gnawed at you. “And how exactly would that solve anything?”
Morph just grinned, tilting their head thoughtfully. “Well, think about it. You two already get each other. You're both in love with people who are already taken. So why not take some of that stress off? Might as well team up and have a pity party together.” 
“Funny,” you replied dryly. “But Logan and I both know where we stand. We don’t need to complicate things further.”
Morph leaned in, their playful smirk never wavering. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You’re telling me you’d rather mope around with this crush on a guy who can’t even remember your name when Rogue’s in the room? That’s some next level torture.”
You shot them a glare, trying to ignore how his words cut a little too close to home. “I’m not moping. I’m just—”
“Just what?” they interrupted, leaning back with feigned innocence. “Waiting for Gambit to realize he made a mistake? Please. At this point, he probably thinks you’re just his backup plan.”
“That’s not fair,” you snapped, your voice sharp. “You don’t know what it’s like.”
“Sure I do,” Morph replied, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve got the whole tragic love story going on. It’s like a soap opera, only less exciting. So why not shake things up? You and Logan could make quite the team. Brooding heartthrob meets the queen of unrequited love? It’s practically a rom-com waiting to happen.”
They chuckled, and before you knew it, he morphed into the Wolverine himself. They adopted his brooding, eyebrow furrowing expression, capturing his essence flawlessly. “So, Y/N,” They said in a low, gravelly voice, “still hung up on Gambit? You know he’s not exactly waiting around for you, right?”
You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your composure. “You’re really going to keep this up, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely,” they replied, their expression a mix of seriousness and playfulness. “Why settle for someone who’s already got his eyes on Rogue when you could be with someone who actually sees you? Like me.”
“If only the real Logan could see you now. You wouldn’t last a second if he was here,” you quipped.
 “He’d probably give me a high five for finally getting you to lighten up.”
“Sure, right before he throws you out the window,” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly. “Even if Logan and I bothered to give each other a chance, it's just another excuse for some love-hexagoned drama for the students to feign on.”
“Hexagon? I thought this was more of a straight line,” Morph said, shrugging playfully, returning back to their form. “How much longer are you going to let Gambit’s rejection keep you down?”
You sighed, feeling the weight of their words. “I don’t know, Morph. I’m still trying to figure out my feelings for Remy, and you know how complicated things are with Marie in the picture.”
Morph leaned in closer, their expression softening a bit. “Look, I get it. It’s a mess, but you can’t just let it stop you from exploring something new. What’s the harm in talking to the wolverine? You might be surprised.”
“Talking to Logan?” you repeated, rolling your eyes. “What’s that going to do? I’m not looking for a rebound or a distraction. I’m not that kind of gal.”
“Just a chat,” they insisted, his voice lightening again. “You never know. Maybe you’ll find out that you have more in common with him, more than just a mutual crush on unavailable people.”
You shook your head, rolling your eyes, getting up from your seat. “I appreciate the pep talk, but I’m not ready for that right now. I need to deal with my own stuff first.”
Morph crossed their arms, the grin returning. “Fair enough, but just know I’m here, waiting, when you’re ready to make your move.”
“Thanks, but really, let’s just drop it for now,” you said, feeling a bit lighter in thought as you made your way out of the kitchen.
As you walked through the familiar halls of the X-Mansion up to your room, Morph’s words were still in your head. They had a point, no matter how much you denied it. Maybe this was something you needed, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.
What could possibly go wrong?
chapter 3 - what we plan
The X-Mansion had another afternoon buzzed with its usual energy, the sounds of training and laughter echoing through the halls. You found comfort in your routine, but your thoughts often drifted back to Morph’s words from a few days back. Yet, every time you found yourself lost in those thoughts, a rush of uncertainty would follow.
After an intense training session, you retreated to the common room, seeking solace in the company of your teammates. As you entered, you spotted Logan across the room, leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he talked to Jean. Even bothering to talk about what Morph said to you with him was pointless. He had his own things to deal with, if it wasn’t clear enough.
You grabbed a nearby magazine, your eyes skimming the pages, but your mind wandered elsewhere. You recalled Morph’s words, their constant suggestion that you should pursue something with Logan. It felt too foolish to consider now. He had his own problems, and his own, personal interests. 
As you tried to concentrate on the text, you caught snippets of their conversation. Jean laughed at something Logan said, and your heart sank a little. You shifted in your seat, pretending to be engrossed in the magazine while you tried to make sense of your feelings. Was it even worth pursuing something with Logan, or was it just a fleeting thought sparked by Morph's teasing?
Lost in thought, you barely noticed the hours pass, and the only person left in the room was you. It was late. You threw the magazine back on the couch, and decided to head back to your room, making your way up the stairs. As you walked down the hall, you suddenly bumped into Logan, who was on his way back down.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You okay, bub?”
“Yeah, just didn’t see you coming,” you replied, trying to mask your heart pounding out of your chest.
He offered a small smirk, his expression softening. “You’re awfully lost in thought lately. What’s on your mind?”
You hesitated, searching for the right words. Should you mention Morph’s suggestion? Or the nagging feeling that there could be something more between you two? Instead, you shrugged lightly. “Just the usual stuff...training, missions, you know how it is.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “You sure–?”
“Yeah, well,” you interrupted, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, “there's a lot on my mind.”
He studied you for a moment, those intense hazel eyes piercing right through. “You wanna talk about it?”
The weight of his gaze continued to send your heart racing. 
This was it. You could either keep running from your thoughts or just finally spit it out.
 “I was thinking about what Morph said to me a few nights ago.”
A flicker of curiosity crossed Logan's face. “Morph? What’d that hellspawn say this time?”
You bit your lip, gathering your thoughts. “He mentioned us. Getting together. It’s ridiculous, I know.” The words tumbled out before you could stop yourself, leaving you feeling quite awkward. You tried presenting yourself enamored by crossing your arms and looking casual, but anyone could see right through that it was taking a toll on you.
Logan’s eyebrows furrowed, and paused for a moment, taking it into thought. He then let out a soft chuckle.
 “Y/N, don’t let Morph’s nonsense mess with your head. They're just trying to stir the pot, like always.”
You bit your lip, still unconvinced. It took him that long to form his sentence? You assumed the both of you were just not in the mood to discuss it, which was partially true. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It just had me thinking it over so much, that I–”
He cut you off with a wave of his hand, his expression shifting to one of playful exasperation. “Seriously, don’t overthink it. We’ve got enough to deal with without getting tangled up in that kind of drama.” 
And that was that. In the end, maybe it was a stupid idea after all. He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a nod of reassurance as he walked back off.
You took a deep breath, attempting to collect yourself as you reached the top floor when you stopped dead in your tracks. There he was. Remy, standing there, hands in pockets just right in your way, with his usual playful smirk softened by something unreadable in his expression. He straightened up when he saw you, his eyes flickering that made your heart clench.
"Chère," he greeted, voice low and smooth, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond with the same warmth you usually did.
“Remy,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even, standing still. Though, your emotions stirred uneasily beneath the surface. After everything that had happened, after he’d stood you up and had made the decision to be with someone else, you couldn’t ignore the pang of frustration gnawing at you.
Taking a deep breath, you attempted to steady yourself, but the words you’d been rehearsing came spilling out faster than you expected. "Have you figured out what I mean to you yet?”
His easy smile faltered, and he looked away for a second before meeting your gaze again, regret shadowing his eyes. “Y/N, it ain't like that. I never wanted to hurt ya...”
“But you did, didn’t you?” The question hung between you, heavy and thick with the nights he’d promised and didn’t show, the times you’d let yourself believe he might actually feel the same way.
His hand reached out, but you pulled back before he could touch you. "I waited for you, Remy. I thought—” You trailed off, hating the vulnerability in your voice, but there was no point hiding it now. “I thought we had something.”
He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck, frustration clear in his stance. “Y/N, you mean a lot t’ me, but Marie... she’s somethin’ I just can’t let go of. She’s always been there in a way I can’t explain.”
You swallowed hard, nodding slowly, the ache in your chest settling as a numbness began to take its place. “I see.”
“No, chère,” he protested softly, stepping closer, his expression earnest. “I care for ya, but Rogue... she’s part o’ me.” He shook his head, struggling to find the right words, but they felt like nothing more than just empty echoes.
In the silence that followed, you took a step back, pressing your arms around yourself to hold together the pieces of your heart that felt like they were splintering apart.
"Fine. Let’s just pretend it never happened."
With that, you turned and left him standing there, resisting the urge to look back. If you stayed, you’d only keep finding yourself hoping for something that would never be. Remy reached out as if to stop you, but you turned, stepping away before he could say anything more, with your footsteps echoing against the quiet walls of the mansion. You were done letting yourself be second place.
As you reached for your door, you took a shaky breath, attempting to swallow the wave of emotions that had been threatening to burst free. You’d tried for so long to keep those feelings buried, to push them aside and pretend that things didn’t affect you as much as they did. But tonight, it felt impossible. You would do anything to get back at him, just as he did to you.
Just as you were about to turn the doorknob and enter your room, a voice behind you broke the silence. “You sure you’re alright?”
Startled by his voice, you turned, finding Logan standing there.
He’d seen it, hadn’t he? The hurt, the anger, what had just happened a few moments earlier...he couldn’t have just let it go unnoticed.
As you stood there, still reeling from your conversation with Remy, Logan’s voice broke through your thoughts. His tone was unusually gentle, his gaze fixed on you.
“I, uh, heard some of that back there,” he admitted, his voice low. “...Kinda hard not to.”
You nodded, letting out a sigh of defeat. “Yeah...”
Logan took a moment to steady himself, his expression shifting as he gathered himself before speaking again. “So, you’re done waiting around for him to make up his mind?”
“Completely done,” you replied, crossing your arms. “I’m tired of this backup shit.”
He chuckled. “Sounds like Gambit and Jean could use a wakeup call...” His tone turned mischievous, and you could almost see the thoughts racing behind his eyes. “You up for causing a little trouble?”
“What do you have in mind?” you asked, intrigued.
Was he actually reconsidering what you told him?
“You know... I thought about what Morph said to you, after hearing all that earlier,” he admitted, looking a bit conflicted. “At first, I figured it really was just them stirring the pot, trying to rile us up. But then...” He trailed off, rubbing a hand over his jaw, clearly gathering his thoughts. “Then I started thinking that maybe they were onto something.”
You blinked, surprised by the unexpected confession. Logan, of all people, wasn’t one open to change, let alone do something like this.
 “If they want to ignore what’s right in front of them, maybe they need a reason to think twice. We show up, give ‘em a taste of what it feels like to be on the outside looking in. You and me... pretending we’re hitting it off.”
Your eyes widened.
 It was simple, maybe a bit petty, but the thought of flipping the tables felt too satisfying. And this was an opportunity that might never come again.
 “So, you’re saying... we should act like we’re into each other?”
“Exactly,” he replied. “A few meaningful looks and some well timed moments. It’ll have them second guessing everything they thought they knew about us.”
“Tempting,” you admitted, still in thought about wanting to go with this crazy idea, but still hesitant on what could happen from it. You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.
“Okay, I’m in. But we need to set some ground rules; no crossing lines, and we keep it strictly for show.”
“Deal.” Logan extended his hand, and you shook it, sealing the agreement with a firm grip.
. . .
As you settled into bed that night, you stared up at the ceiling, replaying the day’s events in your mind. The idea sounded nice at first, and maybe it was originally Morph playing along, trying to play matchmaker. But now it was official. 
And you had no idea what you were about to get yourself into. 
chapter 4 - what we act
You woke up to the muted light of morning, filtering through the curtains. Your mind was already racing with thoughts of the day ahead. Today, you’d be putting the plan into action with Logan, and the uncertainty tormented you. How would it feel to pretend to be something you weren't? Taking a deep breath, you got out of bed, bracing yourself for whatever might unfold.
Making your way to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, you hoped to dodge any awkward encounters, but there he was. Logan stood at the counter, stirring coffee with an unreadable expression as he leaned against the counter, lost in thought.
As soon as he noticed you, a small smirk played on his lips, something almost conspiratorial. “Mornin’,” he said casually, but there was a spark in his eye that hadn’t been there before.
 He definitely had something in mind. 
“Morning,” you replied, trying to play it cool as you grabbed a glass of water. The room felt heavy with unspoken tension, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but feel a bit self conscious under his stare.
Logan set down his mug, his expression shifting to something slightly more serious. “You still up for this?” he asked, voice low, and quiet enough that no one else would overhear.
You took a deep breath, giving a decisive nod.
A moment later, you heard footsteps in the hallway, followed by the unmistakable sound of Jean’s laughter. Logan gave you a subtle nod, the silent signal that it was time to begin. You took a step closer to him, glancing up through your lashes just enough to catch his eye.
He responded immediately, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in, his hands lingering beneath the hem of your pants, just enough for the warmth of his touch to spread over you like a shockwave. “Play along,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.
You tried to settle your heartbeat as the footsteps grew closer. Jean and Scott rounded the corner, stopping abruptly when they saw the two of you standing so close, Logan’s arm around you, that spoke of something far more than friendship. You saw the flicker of surprise on Jean’s face, quickly masked with a forced smile, and a hint of something else in Scott’s usual stoic expression.
“Oh,” Jean said, voice a touch higher than usual, “Good morning, you two.”
Logan just nodded, that small, mischievous smile barely hidden. “Mornin’, Jean. Scott.”
Jean’s gaze flicked between you two, as though trying to piece together how she’d missed this...development. Her eyes lingered on you, a flash of something unreadable crossing her face, and you had to resist the urge to smirk. You were definitely giving them both something to think about.
Scott cleared his throat, trying to break the strange silence. “Didn’t realize... you two were so close.”
Logan’s arm tightened around you just a bit. “Well, there’s a lot people don’t realize,” he replied smoothly. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you, and the flicker of jealousy in Jean’s eyes told you it wasn’t lost on her either. You were tensed up in his embrace, and it didn’t help that your body was heating up right at that moment. Your throat was suddenly dry, struggling to utter a single word.
Scott's eyes shifted between you and Logan, his normally composed expression giving way to slight discomfort. Jean, on the other hand, tried to maintain her composure, but you could see the question in her eyes, the slight arch of her brow as if she was piecing things together.
“Well,” Jean said, attempting a breezy tone, “it’s... nice to see everyone getting along.” But her gaze had more to elaborate, the forced smile not quite reaching her eyes.
“Yeah, who knew?” Logan replied, his smirk turning just a little more smug as he pulled you closer. He was playing it up perfectly, and the look of surprise on both their faces was strangely satisfying.
Scott gave a polite nod, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the scene. “Right. Well, don’t let us interrupt.”
With that, he turned, gesturing for Jean to follow him down the hall. As they walked away, she cast one last glance over her shoulder, her expression unreadable but unmistakably intrigued.
When they were out of your vision, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Logan finally released you, a satisfied look in his eyes.
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he said, his tone teasing, still laced with an undercurrent of seriousness.
“Yeah, but this was just a warm up,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face despite the nerves churning in your stomach. “We’re going to have to keep going with this...show of ours.”
“Just keep it casual, and we’ll be fine.” Logan replied, getting up from his chair. He didn’t step away immediately, though; the space between you felt more charged than it had any right to be. His hand lingered again. This time, near yours on the counter, close enough that you could feel the warmth, and for a fleeting moment, it was quite easy to forget that this was all just for show.
You cleared your throat, shifting back slightly, giving yourself some breathing room. “Right, casual,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. 
The silence stretched, comfortable but weighted, almost feeling the unspoken change in his gaze.
“You’re overthinking it,” he murmured, his eyes glinting with a familiar spark. “If you keep acting like it’s a big deal, they’ll notice.”
You felt a slight heat creep up your neck, but shrugged it off. “I’m not overthinking,” you shot back, attempting to keep your tone light. “Just making sure I’m... convincing.”
He stepped a little closer, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Convincing? More like being stiff.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Not true.”
“Y/N, you looked like you had a stick up your ass.”
“I’m doing my best, okay? It doesn’t just happen overnight.”
Logan’s expression stayed steady. “Good,” he said, his voice softer but still direct. “That’s all we need.”
You took a breath, nodding slowly, feeling the weight of his words. “It’s just... a lot to think about.”
“Then don’t overthink it,” he replied with a slight grin. “We’re just giving them a show. Keep it simple, don’t force anything. They’ll see what they want to see.”
You nodded, only then remembering that once again, you had to continue this show of yours. You and Logan would be heading out on a mission tonight, with you alongside him. Together. They hadn’t told you who else would be joining, which left a gash of uncertainty in the pit of your stomach.
“Right, the mission,” you replied, trying to shake off any leftover tension. “No pressure, right?”
Logan chuckled softly, “No pressure at all. Just another night making sure no one dies.”
“Yeah,” you took a small breath, a smile breaking through your nerves. “And pretending to be in a relationship.”
“Remember to keep it simple,” he reminded you, a tease in his tone, while on your gaze before he walked off. “And maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you take the lead.”
 A knot of anxiety formed in your stomach as he left you alone in the kitchen. The mission ahead felt daunting enough, and the thought of maintaining the pretense of a relationship with him sent your mind racing. 
This wasn’t going to be so easy.
chapter 5 - what we suppress 
The evening air was cool and crisp as you made your way to the X-jet with Logan, Scott, and Marie, who was adjusting her gloves in silence. Scott’s gaze was steady, his expression all business, but you caught the slight hesitation as his eyes passed over you and Logan. Logan noticed too, throwing a quick, almost smug grin Scott’s way as he placed a casual hand on your shoulder. The warmth of his touch caught you off guard, but you willed yourself to keep a neutral expression, feeling the cool, easy role settling over you.
Marie, catching the gesture out of the corner of her eye, raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. If anything, the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips, like she knew something Scott didn’t. Scott, meanwhile, looked at Logan and then back at you with an expression somewhere between surprise and doubt, but he stayed quiet.
“Alright, listen up,” Scott began, folding his arms as he launched into the mission brief. “Intel indicates there’s a cache of prototype weapons and possibly experimental compounds stashed in the warehouse. Marie and I will sweep the perimeter. Logan, you will take the inner corridor. Y/N, secure the samples if you find any. We need evidence, so keep it quiet, keep it subtle, and stay on comms.”
“Understood,” Logan replied, the lazy smirk still lingering as he squeezed your shoulder for effect. You fought back the urge to shove him off, partly because his touch felt oddly...reassuring, but mostly because Scott’s slight frown felt like its own kind of victory. And seeing it any longer would make you cry of laughter. 
The X-jet lifted off, slicing through the night sky. You shifted your attention to watching your surroundings, taking a seat besides Logan, glancing at Scott who began to outline the plan once more.
“Alright, everyone. We’ll be approaching the warehouse in ten minutes. Rogue and I will cover the perimeter while you two head inside. Stay alert,” Scott instructed.
“Roger that,” Logan replied. “You just make sure to keep those laser eyes to yourself.”
“Very funny,” Scott shot back, his tone dry. “Focus on the mission, Logan.”
As the jet soared through the clouds, you glanced at Logan, who wore a smirk that could only be described as infuriatingly charming. “So,” he said, leaning closer. “You ready?”
“Yeah. Guess I'm being your emotional support tonight,” you uttered in a sarcastic manner. It happened almost naturally; turning your mind off to focus on what was ahead, you couldn’t deny it helped your case. “Someone has to keep you in check.”
“Good luck with that,” he retorted with a chuckle. “But I have to admit, having you by my side makes this whole mission a lot more interesting.”
“Glad to hear I can spice up your life, Logan,” you replied, trying to match his nonchalance. “Just don’t get too distracted by my presence.”
“Ah, you must be talking about your ability to look cute while doing nothing.”
You couldn’t help yourself but have a big smirk plastered on your face. “I can assure you, I’ll be doing plenty of ‘nothing’ while you’re busy kicking ass.”
Scott’s voice cracked through, his tone annoyed. “Are you two done flirting? We’re almost at the drop zone.”
“He’s right,” Marie chimed in with a sly grin, glancing over her shoulder at the two of you. “Save the romance for after we’re done.”
Logan’s smirk only grew as he leaned back, crossing his arms. “Don’t worry, Anne. It’s just mission talk. Mostly.”
The jet began its descent, and you felt the subtle shift in atmosphere as everyone went into mission mode. As soon as you touched down, the team moved quickly. Rogue and Scott split off to cover the perimeter as planned, disappearing into the shadows around the warehouse. Logan gave you a quick nod before signaling toward the side entrance, both of you slipping quietly inside.
The place was dark and still, the distant hum of machinery faint in the air. Logan took the lead, moving with a quiet precision that belied his usual rough demeanor. You stayed close, eyes scanning every corner, trying to ignore the fact that he was keeping just a little closer than necessary.
The comms crackled in your ear. “Y/N, Logan, we’re in position,” Scott’s voice came through, steady and calm. “Any movement?”
“Negative,” you whispered back. “Place is dead quiet so far.”
As you moved further into the building, a tense silence settled between you and Logan. He slowed, gesturing for you to check a nearby door while he kept watch. You edged forward, opening it just wide enough to peer inside. The room was packed. Crates, steel tables, shelves lined with sleek weapons and unknown tech. Jackpot.
“Found something,” you whispered into the comm. “Looks like prototype weapons, maybe more.”
“Copy that,” Marie replied. “Get what you can. Scott and I are still clear.”
You quickly snapped photos of the equipment, putting smaller prototypes in your pockets while Logan kept his gaze fixed on the corridor. But as you finished, footsteps echoed down the hallway, breaking the stillness. You froze, eyes darting to Logan, who signaled for you to keep low. You quickly ducked behind one of the tables, as he slid beside you.
“Company.” you murmured.
Logan gave a subtle nod, resting a steady hand over your lips as a signal to keep calm. His fingers lingered for a beat, sparking a warmth you tried to ignore, forcing your attention back to the sounds approaching.
Scott’s voice crackled in your ear. “Status?”
Logan cast you a sideways glance. “Just a little activity. We’re fine.”
The shadow of a guard passed just outside the doorway, pausing for a tense moment. You held your breath, clutching the edge of the table to keep from shifting, as Logan’s hand brushed yours in silent reassurance. The faint metallic clink of the guard’s gear sent a shiver up your spine.
The sound of boots hitting concrete grew louder. Guards. Too many to take head-on, especially in such a confined space. Logan’s sharp eyes darted around before locking onto a supply closet a few feet away. Without hesitation, he pulled you toward it, tugging the door open just wide enough for the both of you to slip inside.
The space was cramped, barely large enough to hold the two of you. Logan’s body pressed against yours as he adjusted his position, his arm braced against the wall to keep from crushing you entirely. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, his warmth seeping through the tension of the moment.
“Really?” you whispered, your tone dry despite the situation. “This is your big plan?”
“Unless you’ve got a better idea, quiet down,” Logan replied, his voice barely above a murmur. His tone was clipped, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
The voices of the guards grew closer, and the beam of a flashlight passed just outside the slats of the door. Your breath hitched, and Logan caught the sound, his gaze flicking to yours. He shook his head slightly, silently telling you to stay calm.
The guards paused right outside, their conversation muffled but tense. Logan’s jaw tightened, and his hand instinctively rested near his hip, ready to unsheathe his claws if necessary. But the seconds stretched on, and the guards eventually moved on, their voices fading into the distance.
Logan let out a quiet breath, his eyes flicking to yours. “Told you it’d work.”
You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the tight space and the way his confidence somehow made the situation feel less suffocating. “Sure, if by ‘work’ you mean nearly giving me a heart attack.”
He shrugged, the movement almost brushing against you. “Heart’s still beating, isn’t it?”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the corner of your mouth from twitching upward. “You’re impossible.”
The two of you stepped out, looking back and forth around the room to ensure no one else was around. But the momentary quietness didn’t last for long. 
Shouts from the guards grew louder, their heavy boots pounding against the concrete floors. Logan’s grip on your hand tightened as he tugged you forward, weaving through the maze of corridors.
“This way,” he urged, his voice low but urgent.
You followed close behind, heart hammering in your chest. The narrow hallway gave way to an open loading dock, the cool night air brushing your face like a lifeline. But the guards weren’t far behind.
“There!” one shouted, raising a weapon.
Logan didn’t slow, yanking you behind a stack of crates as bullets ricocheted off the walls. He growled low in frustration, eyes scanning for a way out. Spotting a gap between two trailers, he pointed. “Through there. Go!”
You didn’t hesitate, ducking through the opening and sprinting toward the perimeter fence. The sound of Logan’s claws slicing through the chain link sent a jolt through you. He gestured for you to crawl through first, covering your back before slipping out himself.
The two of you bolted into the cover of the nearby woods, the sounds of pursuit fading into the distance. You quickly turned on your comms for a moment.
“Scott, Rogue—they found us. We’re heading back to the rendezvous point.”
Marie’s voice crackled in response. “Got it. We’re still clear on our end. Stay low, and we’ll meet you there.”
Scott’s voice followed in. “What happened?”
“Guards,” Logan growled, keeping his pace brisk as he scanned the woods for any sign of pursuit. “Too many for subtlety. But we’ve got what we came for.”
“Just make it back in one piece,” Scott replied, an underlying tension in his voice.
“Always do,” Logan said with a smirk, cutting the comm connection before Scott could fire back.
The night pressed in around you, the sound of your breaths and the faint rustle of leaves filling the silence. After a few minutes, you slowed your pace, leaning against a tree to catch your breath. Logan stopped beside you, his sharp eyes still scanning the dark forest.
“You good?” he asked, his voice low but softer than before.
“Yeah,” you managed, your heartbeat finally beginning to settle. “Thanks for the assist back there.”
Logan shrugged, but his smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Wouldn’t have let you face that mess alone.”
You gave a small smile, feeling the weight of the moment settle. “Still, you didn’t have to...you know, drag me into that closet.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and for once, he didn’t have a witty comeback. Instead, he locked eyes with you, something unspoken flickering in his eyes before he finally looked away.
“Come on,” he said, breaking the silence. “We’re not out of the woods yet—literally.”
You rolled your eyes but followed as he led the way through the trees, the faint sounds of the team waiting in the distance.
The treeline opened up to reveal the sleek silhouette of the X-jet, its ramp lowered like a beacon in the darkness. The faint hum of its systems was a welcome sound, promising safety and a chance to catch your breath.
You and Logan dashed through the trees, the X-jet’s ramp now fully lowered, and you kept close, adrenaline propelling you forward. Breathing hard, the two of you made your way to walk inside.
Scott was already at the base of the ramp, his arms crossed and a scowl firmly in place. Marie stood beside him, leaning casually against the side of the jet, her sharp eyes flicking between you and Logan as you approached.
“You cut it close,” Scott said, his voice tight with barely restrained irritation.
“Yeah, well, we ran into a little welcoming party,” Logan shot back, his tone deliberately nonchalant as he marched up the ramp. He didn’t spare Scott a second glance, leaving you to catch up.
You hesitated, brushing a stray leaf from your sleeve as you met Scott’s gaze. “We’re fine. The mission’s intact. That’s what matters, right?”
Scott’s expression didn’t soften, but he gave a curt nod. “Get on board. We’ll debrief on the way back.”
You moved up the ramp, feeling Marie’s amused eyes on you as she followed. “What’s his problem?” you muttered under your breath.
Marie smirked. “Oh, you know Scott. He hates it when things don’t go perfectly. But between you and me...” She glanced toward Logan, who was already settling into his seat. “I think it’s something else that’s got him all twisted.”
Before you could respond, the hatch sealed shut, and the jet hummed to life. Scott took his place at the controls, his movements stiff, while Marie slid into the co-pilot’s seat. You dropped into the seat across from Logan, who leaned back with a sigh, his usual smirk creeping back onto his face.
“Something on your mind?” you asked, keeping your voice low.
“Nah,” he replied, though his tone didn’t match the word. After a beat, he added, “You did good out there.”
The simplicity of the compliment caught you off guard. You nodded, hiding a small smile as you turned your gaze to the window. The X-jet’s engines hummed steadily, the familiar sound almost lulling you into a sense of comfort after the chaos of the mission. You were both finally in the air, the tension of the night starting to dissolve with each mile that passed.
You shifted in your seat, feeling the exhaustion catch up with you. The adrenaline was wearing off, and fatigue hit harder than you expected. Logan, sitting beside you, seemed just as tired but still alert, his eyes scanning the cabin like he was always prepared for the next move.
You leaned slightly toward him, your head subconsciously moving toward his shoulder. At first, you told yourself it was just to ease the aching muscles in your neck, but as you settled against him, something else tugged at your chest. His shoulder was warm, a solid presence that somehow made everything feel a little less chaotic.
“Don’t get used to it,” you murmured, trying to push down the warmth flooding your cheeks.
Logan’s voice was low, teasing, but there was an edge of something softer to it. “Wasn’t planning on it.” He shifted, adjusting his posture to make you more comfortable, but you could tell he wasn’t going to make a joke out of it this time.
You let the quiet settle between you, eyes half-closed as your thoughts wandered. This isn’t supposed to feel this way, you thought, the weight of the moment suddenly heavy in your mind. It’s just supposed to be a game, a distraction. But the more time you spent with him, the more you realized that it was starting to feel like something else. Something real.
As the jet continued its steady flight, you let the thought drift to the back of your mind, pretending it wasn’t there. For now, you’d let yourself stay in this bubble, pretending this whole “fake dating” thing was still just that.
But deep down, you weren’t so sure anymore.
chapter 6 - what we hide
When the X-jet finally touched down at the X-Mansion, you felt a quiet relief. The doors opened with a hiss, and you stepped out first, walking briskly to the conference room where the debrief was set to take place. Scott, Marie, and Jean were already inside, sitting at the long table, their expressions unreadable.
Jean, ever the perceptive one, was the first to look up as you and Logan entered. Her gaze lingered on you both, a quiet smile tugging at her lips, but there was something behind it. A glimmer of knowing that made you feel suddenly exposed.
“Mission accomplished?” Jean asked, her voice warm but with that trademark sharpness that suggested she’d already read through the comms logs.
“Yeah,” Logan replied with his usual gruffness, dropping into a seat beside you. His knee brushed against yours, the contact so subtle it could’ve been an accident. You fought the urge to look at him, to acknowledge the sudden shift in the air.
Scott didn’t waste time getting down to business. He slid a tablet toward you, showing the photos of the prototypes and weapons you’d collected. “Is this all of it?” he asked, his voice more controlled than before, but the underlying tension between him and Logan was still palpable.
“Yeah,” you replied, your eyes still on the tablet. “Everything’s documented. No casualties on our end.” You searched through the pockets of your uniform, putting the mini prototypes down on the table. “And...these too.”
Jean nodded, tapping her fingers lightly on the table. “Good work,” she said, her tone still warm, but there was an edge to it now as her gaze shifted between you and Logan. She seemed to linger on you for a moment longer than necessary, her eyes narrowing just slightly in that knowing way.
“Everything went smoothly?” Jean asked, her voice casual but with a hint of something deeper. “No... surprises?”
You swallowed, not sure if she was referring to the mission or to something else entirely. You glanced at Logan, who was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. His expression was unreadable, but there was something about the way his jaw tightened that gave you the feeling he was just as aware of Jean’s subtle probing as you were.
“Yeah, no surprises,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Everything went as planned.”
Scott slid the tablet back toward the center of the table, his gaze lingering on it for a moment before he looked up. “Alright, I think that covers everything. You’ve done good work,” he said, his tone indifferent, but not unappreciative. “Get some rest. I’m sure we’ll have more to discuss soon.”
You nodded, ready to leave the debrief behind you. The tension had been thick in the room, and now that the mission was officially over, you couldn’t wait to take a breath without everyone’s eyes on you.
Logan, however, didn’t move immediately. He turned his head toward you, that familiar, unreadable expression on his face. “You coming?” he asked, his voice low and casual.
You nodded again, standing up. The two of you started toward the door when Jean’s voice stopped you.
“Hold up, Y/N,” she called. “I need to talk to you for a second.”
Marie, who had been standing by the door, gave you a knowing look. Logan glanced at you, his expression unreadable, before shrugging. “I’ll be outside.” He gave you space to handle this, but the shift in the air was undeniable. You felt a wave of unease wash over you.
You hadn’t expected Jean and Marie to corner you after the debrief, but here you were, sitting across from them in the hallway just outside the conference room. You felt the weight of their gaze, the silent question hanging between you.
Jean, always the more subtle one, folded her arms, her smile just a little too knowing. "So," she started, her voice smooth and casual. "How’s everything going? You and Logan, I mean."
You stiffened, caught off guard. Your heart thudded in your chest, and for a moment, you found yourself lost for words. “Uh, it’s good,” you said, your tone a little too light, betraying the nervous flutter in your stomach. “You know, the mission’s over, so...”
Marie raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smirk. “Yeah, sure,” she said, her tone dripping with that playful sarcasm you’d come to recognize. "It’s just... y’all seem real comfortable around each other, huh? A bit more than just teammates, wouldn’t you say?”
I guess they were really buying it now. This is good.
You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, what do you mean?”
Marie’s eyes glinted mischievously as she crossed her arms, leaning in just a bit. “Oh, come on, sugar. You two were pretty cozy back there. I’m just sayin’.” She tilted her head in a way that made it clear she was teasing, but there was an edge to her tone that made your heart race, a sudden panic crawling up your spine.
Jean smirked, sensing the discomfort in your response. "I was reviewing the comms from the last mission— must be something going on between you two.” Her voice was lighthearted, but there was something about the way she said it—acting like a couple, that made your chest tighten. You knew she wanted to get something out of you.
You laughed nervously, brushing it off. “It's nothing like that, really. We're just—just getting the job done, you know?” Your voice was a little too fast, a little too defensive.
Marie raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth quaking upward. “Mhm, I bet. But you can’t deny the vibes, sugar.” She shot a glance at Jean before continuing, her tone more teasing. “Just like how Scott’s been all mopey over Jean lately... though, we all got our own little dynamics going on.”
Jean nodded, the smile never quite fading. “You and Logan, Scott and I, and—” she paused, glancing at Marie, “Remy...and Marie. It’s funny how these things just...happen, huh?” Her words had a casual air, but you could tell she was trying to gauge your reaction.
You felt your throat tighten at the mention of Remy.
Gambit. 
Right. 
You knew you were technically pretending to be with Logan, but hearing it brought you back to reality. You weren't a real couple. You just had to keep reminding yourself of that. But... the way they were talking about their relationships so casually, it felt so much more real.
Marie’s smile softened a bit as she leaned in closer. “It’s okay, sugar. You don’t have to have it all figured out with him right away. Just take your time. I mean, things with Logan can be... complicated.”
Jean nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Logan’s not the easiest to figure out, I know. But he’s got a good heart under all that stubbornness. Just... don’t be afraid to let him in when you’re ready.”
You forced a smile, nodding in agreement even though your thoughts were racing. Pretend. Right. You had to keep it together, keep up the act, even though it was becoming harder to distinguish the lines between reality and the mission.
“Thanks,” you said, clearing your throat. “But it’s really nothing. Just... keeping things professional.”
Marie winked, still teasing. “Alright, sugar. But if you do decide to make it more than just a mission thing, you know where to find me.” Her tone was playful, but there was a softness in it too, a subtle kindness you appreciated.
As you, Jean, and Marie finally parted ways, heading off in different directions, you took a breath, trying to shake the awkwardness that had settled in the pit of your stomach, and made your way to the door.
As you stepped out into the hallway, you spotted Logan just a few paces ahead, his back to you as he walked toward the staircase. He must have been waiting for you, or maybe just lingering after the meeting, but either way, you appreciated his presence to stick around.
“Hey,” you called out, your voice slightly strained as you reached him.
He turned slightly, the hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “How’d it go?” His eyes flicked toward you, searching your face with an intensity that made your heart beat a little faster.
You paused, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “It went... fine.” You tried to keep your tone casual, but something in the way you spoke betrayed the uncertainty you felt. “They’re just curious about us.” You couldn't help but add the last part with a slight edge, as if the mere mention of it made your insides twist.
Logan’s brow furrowed, his usual unreadable expression faltering just a bit. “Curious?” His voice was low, like he was still trying to process exactly what that meant.
You nodded, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah, well... they think we’re actually a thing. Jean was all smiles, and Marie...” You trailed off, shaking your head as if it would help shake away the unease. “It was just a lot of teasing, I guess.”
A slight chuckle escaped Logan’s lips, and he glanced over at you, his expression unreadable but laced with something... almost like amusement. “You didn’t say anything, did you?”
You shook your head. “No, of course not,” you said, perhaps a little too quickly, but you quickly recovered. “Just enough to keep them satisfied.”
Logan’s expression softened, and he pushed himself off the wall, taking a step closer to you. “Yeah, well, it’s working, I guess,” he said, his voice just a little quieter now, a little less casual. He paused, watching you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher. “But maybe we should kick it up a notch, huh?”
You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “Kick it up a notch?”
Maybe it was a joke, or maybe it wasn’t. You couldn’t tell.
You swallowed, trying to keep your cool, but something about the way he looked at you stirred something beneath the surface. “Well, I wouldn’t mind,” you said, your voice a little quieter than you intended, as your faces grew uncomfortably close.
Logan’s smirk faltered just for a moment, and you could feel the shift in the air around you. He didn’t immediately respond, the space between you both suddenly charged with something you weren’t sure you were ready for. He blinked, almost surprised, but then leaned back with a casual shrug as if to shake it off.
“Yeah, well,” he muttered, eyes narrowed, “I guess it wouldn't hurt.”
 His tone wasn’t as teasing as it would have been, which was a bit unexpected in your eyes. You tried not to think much of it. This was a fake relationship, after all. 
For a moment, neither of you moved. Your faces were so close now that you could feel the heat of his breath, your pulse racing in your ears. Logan held your gaze, and you saw that flicker of something deeper. Something that didn’t quite match the playful tone of his words.
But, just as quickly as it appeared, he brushed it aside with a half-hearted wink and a shrug. "Guess we’ll figure it out as we go along, huh?"
You nodded, a quiet tension still hanging in the air. As he turned and walked toward the stairs, you lingered, fighting the urge to follow him, the strange weight of the moment heavy on your chest.
One thing was for sure; things were definitely not as simple as they seemed anymore.
And though you couldn’t pinpoint what specifically, it was there.
chapter 7 - what we share
You watched Logan retreat upstairs until he disappeared around the corner, the faint scent of cigars along with it. The rest of the team had either gone to bed, or disappeared into their own corners of the mansion, leaving you alone with your thoughts. It was strange, how a place so full of people could feel so empty. You didn’t want to sleep just yet, your mind wide awake from the teasing Jean and Rogue had done just minutes ago. Lost in thought, you heard your stomach grumble.
A snack sounded better than staring at the ceiling for hours.
The mansion was quiet, save for the occasional creak of old wood settling. You reached to open the fridge, it's cold light spilling over shelves of leftovers and mismatched condiments. You grabbed a soda and some crackers, shutting the door with a quiet thud.
The voice startled you, making you jump slightly. You turned to find Logan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, that unreadable look still firmly planted in his eyes. The surprise faded into a familiar calm.
“You always raid the kitchen this late?”
The voice startled you, and you turned to find Logan leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, that same unreadable look in his eyes.
“I thought you just went upstairs?” you replied, keeping your tone light. “What’s your excuse?”
He smirked faintly, stepping inside. “I don’t really sleep. Figured I’d hang with you instead.”
You raised an eyebrow, popping open the soda. “That your way of saying you’re hungry?”
Logan shrugged, grabbing an apple from the counter. “Maybe. The girls kept you wide awake, huh?”
You hesitated, the soda can cooling your hand. “More like the mission from today,” you admitted, leaning back against the counter. “Feels like I’m still out there, you know? Like my body made it back, but my head didn’t.”
Logan nodded, grabbing an apple from a nearby bowl of fruits, biting it hard. “It’s normal. First few times, it messes with you. Then it just...sticks with you differently.”
“Comforting,” you said dryly, and he chuckled.
Before either of you could say more, another voice broke the moment.
“You two always this chatty at midnight, or am I just lucky?”
You turned to see Scott standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, a disapproving tilt to his head.
Logan rolled his eyes. “Relax, Summers. We’re not plannin’ a coup.”
Scott gave a slight smirk but didn’t lighten much. “So are you two... a thing now?” he asked, his tone playful but still searching. "Or just the late-night hangout type?"
You felt a sudden awkwardness settle in the room, and Logan’s posture stiffened for a moment before he smirked, looking back at you to respond.
“A bit of both.” you replied, your voice a little quieter than you intended. You glanced at Logan, unsure of how much to say, or if you even wanted to say anything at all. The last thing you wanted was to dive into an explanation that neither you nor Logan had figured out yet.
Logan’s eyes flickered to yours. "Yeah, something like that."
 “Right. Well, if you’re both done with your midnight snack, and well...cracking your little situation, the danger room isn't going to run itself tomorrow.” He looked at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “Take care of yourself, alright?”
He left without another word, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
Logan finished his apple, tossing the core into the trash. “He means well,” he said, almost grudgingly.
“Yeah,” you said, setting your soda down, taking a bite of some crackers. “Doesn’t make it any less annoying sometimes.”
Logan smirked, pushing off the counter. “Well, you heard the man. Get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”
“I will.” you replied, taking a small sip of your soda once again. You noticed Logan’s expression, lost in thought about something in particular. He stood near the hallway door, contemplating going on with his own endeavors, or staying with you. Either way, it was obvious the two of you weren’t planning to go sleep anytime soon. Not yet. 
“So, speaking of cracks,” you began, the words coming out slower than you expected. “You ever had anyone, you know, break through yours?”
Logan’s eyebrow twitched. “What, you mean, like, past loves?” His tone was neutral, almost shaking his head back to reality.
You nodded, curious but not pushing. “Yeah. It doesn’t have to be deep or anything. Just... someone who actually made you feel like you were seen, I guess.”
Logan glanced down at his feet, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment. He didn’t respond immediately, but you didn’t expect him to. Logan wasn’t exactly one for talking about his past.
Eventually, he let out a breath, his voice quiet. “Yeah, a few. Doesn’t last long, though. When you’ve lived through what I have, it’s hard to let anyone in too close.”
You gave him a sidelong glance, your lips curling into a small grin. “Yeah, I get that. But it’s funny, still willing to fake date someone, even with all that baggage.”
Logan’s eyes flickered toward you, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might have been a smile if he wasn’t so stubborn. “Don’t read too much into that,” he muttered.
“I’m just saying,” you teased, leaning against the counter with a raised eyebrow. “If you can pull that off, maybe letting someone in isn’t as impossible as you make it sound.”
Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement there, just barely. “Fake dating is a hell of a lot easier than the real thing,” he grumbled, clearly trying to avoid admitting anything deeper.
“Sure, but it’s still a step,” you shot back with a shrug. “Maybe next time you won’t need a cover story.”
Logan paused at the cabinet door, hand on the handle, probably to get another snack, but he didn’t open it right away. He looked over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You seem pretty sure about all this relationship stuff now," he said, voice low and teasing. "Didn't know you were such an expert."
You chuckled, leaning back against the counter with your arms crossed. "Oh, I'm not," you replied, giving a small shrug. "Just trying to figure it out. I mean, we all have our baggage, right?"
Logan’s eyes darkened slightly, and he stepped closer again, almost instinctively closing the distance between you two. There was a shift in his gaze, a flicker of something else, something a little more raw. "Yeah. Baggage," he muttered. 
“I’ve got enough to fill a warehouse,” he added, for a short moment; his voice still rough, but edged with a dark humor. "Doesn't mean I’m looking for someone to help carry it."
“I understand,” you said quietly, your eyes lowering as you reached for your soda again. You took a small sip, gathering your thoughts. “I’ve got my own baggage too. Probably more than I’d like to admit.”
Logan didn’t say anything, but you could feel his attention on you, steady and unwavering. He let go of the cabinet door, walking slowly to where you were seated. 
“I get why you’d rather keep your distance,” you continued, your voice quieter now, your fingers lingering close to your soda can. “I think... I think I’ve been doing the same thing, just in my own way. Maybe I’ve been keeping people at arm’s length, too.” You met his gaze then, your eyes a little hesitant. “Maybe because I’m scared. Scared of getting hurt again, or worse, scared of realizing I was never really enough in the first place.”
Logan’s gaze softened, just a little, and his lips parted to say something. He hesitantly placed a hand on your shoulder.
“You’re more than enough,” he said, his voice quieter than before, a hint of sincerity lacing his words. The way he looked at you, like he was trying to convey something else without saying it directly— it made your heart skip a beat.
You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you just stood there, feeling the weight of his hand, and the moment. There was something about Logan that made you want to let your guard down, to let him see parts of you you refused to show anyone else. Something about the way he didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you, he just let you be you. Authentically you.
It was never like that was Remy. No, not even. You wished.
“So, fake dating aside,” you replied, eyes darting away, interrupting the silence. “Do you ever think about what you’d want... if you actually did date someone? For real, I mean.”
"For romance..." he muttered, as if the word tasted foreign on his tongue. His gaze drifted, not quite meeting yours, as if searching for something in the air between you. He sat beside you now, arms on the table counter. 
"I guess it’s easier when someone’s already... taken, you know?" He finally met your eyes, an expression of something you couldn’t quite place in them. "It’s, well, you care about someone but you don’t have to act on it. Don’t have to figure out all the mess of... well, actually being with them. You can care from a distance, and that feels safer. That’s all." His voice was low, a little rough, but there was no bitterness in it, just a resigned honesty.
You didn’t say anything at first, processing what he’d said. It was a strange admission, and yet it made a twisted kind of sense. Logan had always kept his emotions buried so deeply, so well-hidden, that hearing him open up almost caught you off guard.
He cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. "I’m not saying I’m some kind of martyr or anything. I mean, Scott and Jean have their thing. I’ve got my... Well, whatever the hell this is." He waved his hand vaguely in the space between you jokingly, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. "But yeah, it’s easier that way. You don’t have to deal with the what-ifs, the risks. You just... live in the moment and let it go."
“Sounds like you’ve got it figured out,” you said, chuckling, trying to keep the mood light, but even you could feel the pain of his words. “The whole ‘keep it at a distance’ thing.”
Logan’s lips curled into a small, humorless smile, but there was a hint of sadness in it, too. “Figured out? Nah.” He leaned forward slightly, his elbows on his knees, still looking at you with that same unguarded look. “It’s just... easier to not feel too much. You know?” His voice was quieter now, and for a moment, you thought he might say more.
You didn’t push. You didn’t need to. You understood. You both had your own ways of coping, your own defenses, and the idea of letting anyone in too close felt dangerous. Too uncertain.
"Yeah," you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips despite the heaviness of the moment. "I get that. It’s easier to... not care too much, right?"
“If I care too much, they’ll get hurt in some way. Ain’t easy, letting someone in."
"Well,” you paused. “I still think the right person would help with the mess. Maybe it doesn’t have to be so...scary. More of just being there when things get messy."
For a moment, there was silence, and you both sat there. Logan’s eyes softened, just a fraction, and you saw the smallest shift in his expression. It wasn’t much, but it was there, something opening up, if only for a moment.
"Maybe," he said quietly, looking down at his hands. "But for now, I think I’m good with the fake dating thing."
“Yeah,” you said, your voice soft with a quiet understanding. “For now, we’re good.”
Logan stood up slowly, stretching his shoulders with a quiet grunt. "Well, we’ll see what the future holds," he said, his smirk returning, though it was lighter this time. "Get some sleep. Don’t forget about tomorrow.”
You nodded, your smile faint but genuine. "Yeah, I won’t, don’t worry. Thanks, Logan."
He gave you a small nod before turning toward the door. As his footsteps echoed down the hall, you stayed in the kitchen for a while longer. You never realized how easy everything was with Logan. You understood each other a bit too well.
At least, that’s what you told yourself.
chapter 8 - what we break
The early morning silence greeted you as you pulled yourself out of bed. You stifled a yawn, stretching as the cool air nipped at your skin. Training day. No missions, no more disasters, just time in the danger room, blowing off some steam without needing to worry about anything else.
You moved through your routine, pulling on your workout gear and splashing cold water on your face to wake up properly. Training days weren’t always your favorite, but they offered a sense of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic life. At least, that's what you said, confronted by anyone who didn’t understand.
That optimism is what carried you all the way to the Danger Room. Standing in thought with your earphones in. As the doors hissed open, your steps faltered when you caught sight of who was already there.
Logan.
And Remy.
They were sparring in the center of the room, their movements fluid yet calculated, each step and strike of power and precision. Logan's growls punctuated the sharp clash of their practice weapons, while Remy’s easy smirk didn’t falter, even as he narrowly dodged an incoming blow.
Your stomach dropped.
Before you could run off before they noticed, Remy caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye and called out, “Morning, chère. You here to watch or join in the fun?”
You held out one of your earphones and froze, like a deer caught in headlights. Words failed you as your brain scrambled to come up with something, anything—that wouldn’t make you seem out of place.
Logan’s head turned at Remy’s greeting, his sharp gaze locking on you. His expression was neutral, but something about the slight tilt of his head made it feel like he was sizing you up.
“Oh, uh—yeah,” you stammered, stepping further inside before you could talk yourself into running the other way. “Thought I’d... get some training in.”
Remy straightened, tossing the staff he’d been holding to his other hand with a cocky flourish. “Perfect timing, non? We could use a fresh pair of eyes. Logan’s got his claws out today.”
You laughed awkwardly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah, I can see that.”
Logan grunted, brushing past Remy and heading to the weapons rack. “You just gonna stand there or jump in, bub?”
Before you could respond, another voice chimed in.
“Well, this is going to be good,” Morph’s familiar voice drawled from the corner. They were leaning against the wall, arms crossed, their mischievous grin on full display. Clearly, they've been watching the whole thing, and from the look on their face, they weren't planning on missing a second of what was about to unfold.
You threw Morph a glare, but it only made them grin wider. Great. An audience.
“Uh, I’m good for now,” you said quickly, waving a hand. “Just warming up.”
You moved to the farthest available spot on the mat, your face heating under the weight of Logan’s and Remy’s lingering gazes. As you stretched, you could feel Morph’s eyes on you, too, like they were silently narrating every awkward twitch and stumble in your movements.
Trying to ignore them, you dropped into a stretch, but your limbs felt stiff, and your balance was off. Every now and then, you caught snippets of the sparring behind you. Remy’s smooth banter clashed with Logan’s gruff responses, the sound of their training weapons striking echoing through the room.
“Keep up, old man,” Remy quipped, his voice light as he sidestepped one of Logan’s swipes with infuriating ease.
Logan snorted, stepping forward with a calculated swing that nearly clipped Remy’s side. “Watch yourself. I’m just warmin’ up.”
You winced, fumbling mid-stretch. Morph’s muffled laugh caught your ear, and you shot them another look over your shoulder.
“What?” they asked innocently, though his smirk said otherwise.
“You’re distracting,” you muttered, focusing on your stretches again.
They chuckled, leaning casually against the wall. “I’m not the one completely flushed out.”
“I’m not flushed,” you snapped under your breath, though the evidence was plainly there.
Morph snickered, their ability to make you squirm practically a superpower in itself. “Sure, sure. And I’m not morphing into Gambit to test your poker face next.”
You groaned internally, pretending to ignore them as you tried to focus on the stretches. The sharp clang of Logan’s claws retracting pulled your attention for a brief second, and you couldn’t help but glance over.
Logan, as ever, was no-nonsense, brushing off one of Remy’s quips as he grabbed a towel from the bench. But when his gaze flicked toward you, sharp and assessing, your heart stumbled. Did he know how awkward and embarrassing this felt? Being forced to be with the guy you maybe still liked, along with your fake boyfriend?
 He probably smelled it. 
“Looks like she’s gonna warm up all morning,” Logan remarked gruffly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward just slightly. “You plan on actually doin’ anything, princess? Or you gonna keep flailin’ over there?”
Your head snapped toward Logan at the jab, and your hands dropped to your sides, clearly annoyed. 
"I’m stretching. It’s called preparation. Maybe you should try it sometime."
Remy’s laugh rang out before Logan could reply, a smooth, teasing chuckle that grated on your already frayed nerves. "You keep talkin’ like that, you’ll rile him up more than me."
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you glanced between the two of them. "You’re both impossible."
“Aw, don’t be like that," Remy said, stepping closer, his ever-present smirk softening just a touch. "We’re just havin’ a little fun. No harm, non?"
You forced yourself to stay still, but every inch of your body wanted to react. Remy’s words felt like a mockery. Your stomach twisted from all of it. There was something in the way his tone lingered, in the flicker of his red eyes towards Logan, that made your blood simmer. 
You then turned towards Logan, of why you’d roped him into this in the first place. Gambit, Remy, the one who had broken your heart, had stood you up weeks prior, leaving you feeling small and humiliated. The worst part? He didn’t even seem to remember. But you did.
Meanwhile, Logan's expression was as unreadable as ever. Carved from stone, he gave away nothing, and yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else. Was he irritated? Amused? Or was it something else entirely? Whatever it was, it only bothered you more.
You gritted your teeth, stretching through the awkwardness while Logan and Gambit lingered too close for comfort.Remy was still smirking like he was in on some private joke, and Logan, for all his gruffness, didn’t seem to mind the tension he’d stirred up. You stole a glance at Morph, who, to his credit, had the decency to mime zipping his lips after Logan’s warning, but his eyes still sparkled with mischief.
With a sharp inhale, you pushed yourself up from your stretch and took a step toward Logan. “You’re right,” you said loud enough to catch both of their attention. “I should stop warming up and actually do something.”
Logan raised a brow, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his expression. His arms were crossed, his posture relaxed, but there was a tension in his gaze, like he was waiting to see just what you were up to.
With deliberate steps, you closed the space between yourself and Logan. His expression shifted slightly, confusion mixed with curiosity, his body stiffening just enough for you to notice. When you stopped in front of him, his brow furrowed further.
Despite the rapid pounding of your heart, you reached up, cupping the edge of his jaw lightly with one hand, and pressed your lips to his.
The world seemed to still for that brief moment. His lips were firm but warm, slightly chapped, with a roughness that was distinctly Logan. The kiss was soft, unhurried, and intentional. You allowed yourself to linger just long enough to make it convincing, feeling the way his breath hitched almost imperceptibly, the slight tension in his shoulders as though he wasn’t quite sure how to respond.
When you pulled away, his eyes were on you, sharper than ever, and his lips parted just enough to give you the satisfaction of having caught him off guard. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of surprise, intrigue, and something else you couldn’t quite place.
“I’ve changed my mind about joining you two. I’m going for a run.”
You didn’t dare glance back at Logan as you strode toward Gambit, who looked as though someone had just yanked the rug out from under him. His smirk faltered for a split second, just long enough for you to savor the moment. But he recovered quickly, twirling his staff and tilting his head at you as you walked out.
Behind you, Morph let out a low whistle, clearly delighted by the sudden shift in the room’s energy. Logan said nothing, but you could feel his gaze burning into the back of your neck. If you focused hard enough, you might’ve been able to hear the faintest scoff.
As you headed to the outer yard of the X-Mansion, you couldn’t bring yourself to just run just yet. Your mind was still stuck on what happened in the Danger Room. The moment with Logan. The kiss. It felt like an impulsive decision, one that hadn't really been thought through, but in a way, it had felt right.
Mind racing, you were still standing outside the mansion, the weight of what you’d done sinking in. The morning air did nothing to settle your thoughts, only sharpening the confusion swirling in your head. What the hell had you been thinking? You didn’t even have a chance to understand it before your body had already moved. Shaking your head, you walked back inside, your footsteps heavy on the floor.
You’d barely made it to the hallway when you heard the unmistakable heavy footfalls behind you. The sound of Logan’s boots on the floor echoed loudly, and you could feel his presence long before he spoke.
“Thought you were goin’ for a run,” Logan’s voice cut through the silence, low and tinged. He was obviously pissed.
You didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. 
“Changed my mind,” you muttered, your pace never slowing as you reached for your keys. Your mind raced, but you kept your gaze straight ahead, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.
His footsteps quickened, cutting the distance between you in two long strides until you reached the door to your room. You didn’t stop, but the sound of Logan’s voice, low and tense, made your heart stutter.
“Why the hell’d you do that?” he demanded. 
You finally stopped, but only to face him with your back against the door, your body tensing at the proximity. He stood there, eyes narrowed, like he was waiting for you to crack. His jaw was clenched, and there was an almost predatory tension in his stance.
“You were the one who wanted to kick things up a notch,” you replied. No matter how sarcastic you may have sounded, it was honest.
Logan’s expression flickered, something close to frustration flashing in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, barely retracting as he crossed his arms. “That was never what I had in mind.”
You raised an eyebrow, and despite everything, a slight smirk tugged at your lips. “I’m not the one who started sparring with Remy. The last person I want to see. You didn’t exactly make it easy to just sit back and watch.”
He stepped closer, just enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. His gaze flickered down to your lips for a fraction of a second before locking back onto your eyes. It was intimidating, and you held yourself back from trying to look away.
“I didn't need you to make me look like an idiot,” he muttered, voice low, almost rougher than usual.
You stood there, back pressed against the door, heart pounding in your chest as Logan’s presence loomed just inches away. The room felt smaller with every second that passed in silence.
You heard his voice, low and rough as he leaned in to repeat himself. “Why’d you kiss me?”
Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke. “I didn’t kiss you to mess with your head, Logan.” Your voice was steady now, no sarcasm, no defensiveness; just raw honesty. “But you’re the one who... made me think something else was going on.”
Logan scoffed, that almost sounded like a laugh, while shaking his head taking a step back. “Oh really? The same way you thought you had something else with Gambit?”
“What the fuck, Logan?”
The words caught in your throat, your breath quickening as the sting of his accusation hit harder than you expected. You pushed yourself off the door, taking a step toward him, your voice tight with disbelief. “Don’t you put that on me,” you snapped, pointing a finger to his chest. “You agreed to this.”
“You’re right, I did,” he replied, his eyes burning with something between anger and confusion, maybe even a hint of jealousy. “But you’re the one stuck in some damn fantasy of what could’ve been with that...cajun." 
“I’m not the one pretending like something’s going to happen with Jean.” The words were out before you could stop it.
Logan’s expression hardened in an instant, and the room seemed to freeze. His jaw clenched, muscles tensing under the strain of what you just said. You could feel the air crackling with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy between you both.
He stepped back, looking at you as if you’d just struck him with something harder than your words. “You think that’s what this is about?” he spat, voice low and dangerous. “You think it’s about her?”
You didn’t back down, your own frustration burning. “Isn’t it?” you shot back, your voice cutting through the thick silence. “You’re stuck in some fantasy about her, too. Hell, everyone can see it. But don’t act like I’m the only one holding onto something that isn’t real.”
Logan let out a sharp exhale, his fingers gripping the edge of his coat, fighting to keep his cool. His eyes, though, were wild now, full of something you couldn’t quite define. “I’m not you,” he growled, the words coming out rough. “I don’t make mistakes like you. I don’t...” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
You took a step toward him, your eyes never leaving his. “And what? You think you’re the only one capable of making mistakes?” you shot back, your voice bitter. “Maybe we’re just not meant to have what we want. Because they could care less, to even bother giving a shit about us.”
The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel the anger, the disappointment of what you’d just thrown into the air. Logan stood there, his chest heaving, and for a moment, neither of you knew what to say.
He finally broke the silence, his voice quieter but no less intense. “I never said I wanted her,” he muttered, staring at the floor for a moment before looking back at you. His expression was as callous as ever, but the way he stared you down; he couldn’t say it himself, but his eyes could.
Your eyes softened from his answer, but the lump in your throat practically stopped you from giving a response. It didn’t help that your head was pounding from how chaotic your nerves had been turned over. Logan let out a frustrated sigh as you had nothing left to say, from his subtleness, and took a step back. His eyes were still on you, but there was a certain finality to his gaze now, something cold and resolute that you weren’t ready to face.
“Forget it,” he muttered, voice clipped, his face unreadable. “Whatever this is—whatever we are—it's done. I’m done.”
Before you could say another word, he turned and walked toward the door, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. You stood there for what felt like an eternity, the weight of the argument crashing down, the finality of it all, and the overwhelming ache in your chest settled deep into your bones.
And god, you hated it.
chapter 9 - what we mend
The days had dragged on like an unending weight. Each glance between you and Logan felt like a punch to the gut, both of you stiffening the moment the other entered the room. You didn’t even need to look at him to know he was avoiding you; his silence was louder than any words could have been. The same could be said for you. It was easier this way. Or so you told yourself.
Since that morning in the danger room, when your lips had lingered a fraction too long on his, everything had become... complicated. What had been a simple, calculated arrangement of a fake relationship, the harmless flirtation, was now tangled in a mess of confusing emotions. Neither of you had addressed it, but the tension between you had only grown thicker.
At dinner, you had barely looked up from your plate. Every time you did, you’d catch Logan glancing in your direction only to quickly look away. His eyes were stormy, unreadable, and it frustrated you more than anything. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d actually spoken to him, at least not without a stilted awkwardness between you.
The team noticed, of course. Marie, with her usual sharp eyes, had raised an eyebrow at the silent distance between you two. "You two been fightin’ or something?" she’d asked, but you’d merely shrugged, offering a vague response that did little to explain the situation.
Now, as the evening wore on and the mansion fell quiet, the tension was unbearable. The silence in your room felt suffocating, tossing and turning in your bed; and no matter how much you tried to focus on something—anything—to distract yourself, your thoughts kept wandering back to Logan. The way his lips had felt on yours. 
But the line had already been crossed. And you didn’t want to cross any others. 
With a decisive moment, you stood from your bed, slipping on your socks with a swift motion. You had to see him. You just had to know if this feeling—this damnable, undeniable feeling was mutual, or if you were completely losing your mind. 
Your steps were quiet as you walked down the hall, your heart pounding louder than the sound of your footsteps. You reached Logan’s door, hesitating for only a moment before you knocked. The sound echoed in the silence.
"Who’s there?" His voice came through, rough and thick with the weight of the day.
"It's me," you said, and before you could second-guess yourself, you turned the handle, pushing the door open.
Logan was sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed in his iconic white tank top and bootcut jeans. His posture was rigid, as though he were waiting for something. When his gaze met yours, his eyes darkened, but he didn’t say anything. He took another puff from his cigar, which didn’t help how thick the air was between you both. It was almost as if the room itself was holding its breath.
“What do you want?” he asked in slight annoyance.
 “I don’t know,” you muttered, the words coming out harsher than you intended. 
Logan didn’t move, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a tension in the air, something thick and unspoken. The silence stretched between you both like a taut wire, neither of you wanting to touch it, but neither able to ignore it either.
“You could’ve stayed away,” he said, his voice rough, like he was holding back something he didn’t want to admit.
“I know.” you whispered, a pang of guilt in your tone. “Look, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to push you.”
Logan’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might just brush it off, but then he spoke again, softer now. “It’s not just you.” His eyes flickered, as though searching for something in you, something he wasn’t ready to admit either. “I didn’t mean to snap at you either. It’s just... it’s easier if we both just pretend it didn’t happen.”
You swallowed, the weight of his words pressing against you, making your chest tighten. “It’s not easier,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the thick air between you. "It’s not easier for me."
Logan didn’t respond immediately. His eyes dropped to his cigar for a moment, a slight frown tugging at the corner of his lips. He exhaled, letting the smoke curl into the air, his gaze returning to you, but this time there was something different in his eyes. Something that softened the hardness you’d seen earlier.
“Then why the hell are we still doing this?” he asked, his voice low, rough with something that almost sounded like frustration. “Why are we still pretending if it’s this complicated?”
You took a step closer, your pulse quickening with the proximity. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
“I don’t know," you muttered, your voice barely a whisper. "But I can't stop thinking about it—about you. I can’t keep pretending it was just nothing." You looked up, your gaze meeting his, finding him waiting for something, something you couldn’t name.
For a long beat, neither of you moved. Logan’s gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, his jaw tight, as though fighting something inside him. Then, almost imperceptibly, he shifted forward on the bed, a breath escaping him as if he were finally deciding to let go of whatever restraint he’d been holding onto.
“You’re not the only one,” he muttered, his voice rougher now, barely above a whisper. “I’ve been tryin’ to ignore it, but... hell, you make it hard to forget.”
You took a breath, stepping closer, your body drawn toward him against your better judgment. You could feel the heat between you, the crackling tension that had been building for days now, impossible to ignore any longer.
“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t mean to make things so damn complicated.
Logan’s eyes softened, just slightly, and his hand reached out, brushing the back of your fingers with his. The contact sent a shock through you, like electricity, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let him close the gap between you.
“Not your fault,” he said, his voice thick, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “It’s me too. I’m... I’m not good at this shit. But I—” His words faltered, his eyes searching yours for something, anything. “I can’t pretend either.”
You didn’t give him the chance to say anything else. You pulled him toward you, crashing your lips against his. The kiss was hungry, desperate, full of all the unspoken feelings you’d been trying to ignore for so long. Logan’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, as if afraid to let you slip away.
You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. All the confusion, the frustration, the longing—it boiled over in a wave of heat that left you breathless. His lips were firm against yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn’t matter. The only thing that existed was the storm between you both, the undeniable pull that had always been there, buried beneath layers of doubt and distance.
When you finally broke away, you were both gasping for air. Logan’s forehead rested against yours, his hands still holding you close as if he needed to keep you tethered to him.
"Shit, I...that didn’t help, did it..." you whispered, your voice shaky, but a faint smile tugged at your lips. You didn’t know if it was a question or a statement, but it didn’t matter.
Logan’s laugh was low and rough, the sound a mixture of frustration and amusement. "No, but I figured as much." he said, but his eyes were still on you, intense, searching for something.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them, your hands lingering on his chest to keep a certain distance. "I—"
Before you could finish, Logan’s lips were on yours again, cutting off any further words. This time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just need. 
“Shut up.”
His hands moved from your waist to your thighs, gripping you with a possessiveness that made your heart race. The way he touched you felt urgent, almost frantic, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath the fabric of his tank top, and you pushed yourself closer, needing more of him. His lips were rough against yours, parting briefly for a breath, but you didn’t give him the chance to pull away. You kissed him harder, deeper, as if trying to erase all the space that had ever existed between you.
Logan’s fingers dug into your thighs, lifting you slightly as he pulled you closer, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that left you breathless. You could feel the heat of him through the fabric, and it made every nerve in your body hum with need. His grip on your thighs was firm, possessive, as if he was claiming you in a way that was both comforting and maddening. The way his hands moved, pulling you closer and closer, left you feeling dizzy, lost in the feel of him.
His lips traveled down to your jaw, and you gasped, a shiver running through your body at the feel of his breath on your skin. You couldn’t stop the way your hands wandered, exploring the hard planes of his chest and shoulders, wanting to touch every part of him. His scent, the warmth of his skin, the feel of his rough hands—it was all too much, and yet it wasn’t enough.
You let him take off your shirt, urging him to do the same, and one thing led onto the next.
Logan's hands slid up your sides, his touch firm but gentle, as if he were memorizing every curve of your body. You felt the steady rhythm of his breath against your skin, his lips trailing soft kisses along your collarbone. Each kiss ignited something deep within you, a rush of warmth that spread through every part of you. You moved closer, your hands instinctively reaching for his back, your fingertips grazing the muscles beneath his jeans.
His breath hitched slightly as your fingers brushed the waistband of his jeans, his body tensing at the touch. You could feel the intensity rising between you, the need in his movements, in the way his lips ghosted over yours before finally capturing them again. The kiss was deeper this time, more urgent, as though everything in the world had narrowed down to this single moment.
You pulled back just slightly, your chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to steady yourself. “Logan...” you breathed, your voice shaky as you searched his eyes, trying to read the same urgency, the same longing that mirrored your own. But there was still hesitation there, just beneath the surface. Still, neither of you moved, too tangled in the heat of the moment to do anything but breathe each other in.
His hand slid down your back, resting against the curve of your hip, fingers lightly gripping the fabric of your pants. He pulled you closer again, the intensity of his touch making your pulse quicken. “I know,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Me too.”
And the rest? It could only be described as bliss.
chapter 10 - what we confess
The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the warmth. Strong, steady, and unfamiliar in the best possible way. It wasn’t just the weight of the blanket cocooning you or the soft glow of morning light spilling through the curtains. It was him.
And you were in his bed.
Logan’s arm draped across your waist, his fingers loosely splayed over your stomach as though even in sleep, he refused to let you go. His chest pressed against your back, the soft rhythm of his breathing stirring the fine hairs at the nape of your neck.
For a moment, you didn’t move. You didn’t even breathe, afraid that the slightest shift would shatter the fragile peace of the morning. You let yourself sink into it, let yourself feel safe, for once, in the quiet intimacy of it all.
Then his voice, low in a whisper, broke the silence. “You awake?”
You turned your head slightly, catching his sleepy gaze. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and there was a faint crease on his cheek from the pillow. It was so endearingly Logan, so unlike the composed version everyone else saw, that it made your chest ache.
“Yeah,” you whispered, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
Logan’s lips twitched into a lazy grin. “Good. Thought I might’ve crushed you in my sleep.”
You snorted softly, your fingers reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Not even close. Though you do snore.”
“Snore?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Princess, you’re hearing things.”
“Sure,” you teased. “You sounded like a chainsaw. A grumpy one.”
A chuckle rumbled low in his chest, and he tightened his arm around your waist slightly. “Guess I was too comfortable. Not used to sleeping next to someone who doesn’t wake me up kickin’ in their sleep.”
“Don’t test me,” you said with a mock glare, but your smile betrayed you.
His grin widened as he propped himself up on his elbow. “Noted.”
It was a strange kind of comfort, lying tangled together without the unspoken words or half-faked plans hanging over you. But the comfort didn’t last. The two of you had hardly gotten any words out last night, and reality, as always, had a way of creeping back in.
Logan shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you. His gaze softened, the usual storminess of his eyes replaced with something warmer, something gentler. “We gotta talk.”
You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. We do.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the words you both needed to say hanging heavy in the air. Finally, Logan broke the silence.
“This whole fake-dating thing,” he started, his voice measured, “I didn’t think much of it at first. Figured it’d be a pain in the ass, but... I don’t know. Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling fake.” He paused, his hand brushing yours lightly. “At least for me.”
Your breath hitched, and you looked away, the weight of his words settling in your chest. “Logan...”
“I know,” he said, cutting you off gently. “I know you were hung up on Remy. And hell, I thought I was hung up on Jean. But the truth is…”
Logan hesitated, his jaw tightening as he searched for the right words.
“She was someone I thought I wanted,” he said, his voice quieter now, like he was speaking more to himself than to you. He glanced away for a beat, exhaling softly, before meeting your gaze again. “But... it was never real. Not like this.”
“This?” you asked softly, your heart thudding in your chest.
“This,” he confirmed, his hand finding yours and curling around it. “You. Us.”
A lump formed in your throat, and you found yourself struggling to speak.
“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out?” he added, his voice softer now. “How hard it was to just... stand by while you kept lookin’ at him like he was everything?”
Your chest tightened, his words stirring something deep inside you. “I—”
“Don’t,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “Don’t say anything you’re not ready to say. Just... be honest with yourself. With me.”
You bit your lip, your eyes dropping to where his hand rested against your cheek. “I don’t think I love him anymore,” you admitted quietly, your voice trembling with the weight of the words. “I thought I did. For so long, I thought I’d never get over him. But now...” You looked back up at Logan, your eyes meeting his. “I can’t imagine myself without you.”
Logan’s lips quivered into a small, almost disbelieving smile. “Good,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “’Cause you’ve been driving me crazy, darlin’. Watching you smile, hearing you laugh... it’s all I’ve wanted for a while now.”
A small laugh escaped you, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”
“Maybe,” he admitted, his lips brushing yours lightly. “But I don’t mind. Not with you.”
The kiss that followed was slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to the desperation of the night before. This wasn’t about drowning in the moment. It was about finding something real, something worth holding onto. When it finally broke, your foreheads stayed pressed together, both of you breathing in the shared space.
“So, what now?” you asked softly.
Logan smirked. “Guess we stop pretending.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “You in?”
You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “Yeah. I’m in.”
And as his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you’d already found it.
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allsadnshit ¡ 2 days ago
Text
Even after years of therapy I am still really learning how to be mad and actually act on it
I used to be super swift with the block button on all social media and for reasons I am not really sure of yet I stopped and started doing a sort of "I'm the bigger person for not cutting anything off all the way it shows I am chill and not bothered" type beat partially I think because of wanting to still have access to their accounts even if I didn't allow myself to look - and also I think because I have a bad habit of assuming the best of people but like not in a beautiful way more like I literally assume someone's sorry or still cares about me even when all their words and actions show the exact opposite
And I had a big cry this morning about trust and how I am realizing that although the work I've put in to repair my self trust has felt important and good - it's not everything. And the fact that to have a career, relationships, and freedom means I WILL have to interact and trust others means there will always be a huge variable I can't actually control no matter how much I heal myself or learn to have boundaries won't stop someone from hurting me even if I gain the ability to respond in a way that I'm proud of or is healthy
And after crying into my miso soup and rice with my husband I was like okay...I need to get real with myself. I need to stop making excuses for leaving the door open for people to intimately see my life. My ex best friends have no business liking my Instagram posts about my life and art like they really don't. And I keep the door opening hoping I'll get an apology or something and guess what? It doesn't come. Because I don't even truly treat them like they hurt me and aren't in my life. I try and keep all doors open and all it does and make me take it out on the people who want to be in my life now and that hurts ME.
So I went back and blocked everybody. YEARS late. They might not ever even notice! They might notice and not care! Doesn't really matter. I just knew the excuses I make for not expressing my anger are bad for me and if I want to open myself up to change I need to see these feelings through and not just wait for the anger to pass so I don't do anything "rash".
Anger, especially the kind that bubbles up again and again from the same place, is your soul pointing to a hole in the boat where water is getting in and sinking you! It's an alarm! And no matter how small the hole is or if someone else thinks "I wouldn't have taken it so personally" doesn't really matter in the end. It's your ship, and you're the one going down if it sinks. So if the alarms go off, don't take it lightly.
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wardensantoineandevka ¡ 2 days ago
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I won't get around to writing a properly developed post on it, but speaking generally and assuming broad good faith, I personally think the anachronism in Veilguard is fine. I know it's a deeply held bit of style for a lot of people, and many hold the directive about no anachronism as important to things feeling properly Dragon Age.
Personally, I never felt it THAT important. I roll my eyes at nitpicking about historically accurate costuming too, and I pause to wonder what IS "anachronism" in fantasy. I think a lot of the style of the games leaned so hard on it that, in some places, it was a substituting this rule in place of developing stronger individual style or voice. I love this series, but I don't feel like characters (notably once you got past core cast), locations, etc. always and consistently had a strong sense of voice, both in terms of diction but also in visual direction. I feel like even the music gets this a little bit, since Veilguard feels more musically interesting to me than many of the prior tracks because, I think, the soundtrack is allowed to feel a little less like vaguely European medieval heroic fantasy.
There's always been anachronism, but I think the strict reliance on adhering to a particular conception of what A Fantasy Story looks and sounds like really hampered, at least for me, the development of style identity. Veilguard's voice and style broke from that in a way that did feel successfully more specific and striking for the story and characters it's trying to dress. I think being released from this directive does—because there's no longer what we bring ourselves to the table from our familiarity with the genre and pattern recognition—however, magnify flaws in how Bioware always has treated the setting as just the backdrop against which these dramas play out. But that's outside the scope of my thoughts here. I'll just summarize that with: that's a consistent Bioware problem, and I don't think it's inherently wrong to approach worldbuilding as merely dressing the set for your story, though perhaps that isn't always the most successful approach here and I know many fans are very invested in the setting itself and its development, so that would put us all at cross purposes.
Don't get me wrong. There IS a place for that sort of directive, a rule against things that scan too modern. But then, I think for it to work, you have to have a very firm idea of your own voice, of your individual style and direction working with that directive, and frankly, I don't think Bioware EVER really had a super strong grasp of it here.
I do think the character design especially, character voice, and visual identity suffered SO much in many earlier instances because of this directive. Meanwhile, I think it's interesting and striking to have things like, for example, Neve clearly drawing from film noir and how that informs how I approach and think about her as a character and how appropriate it feels that Lucanis and Illario end on the stage of an opera house. I feel like being released from having to worry about anachronism has, for me, produced some of the strongest instances of style and voice in the series in a long time.
And I know a lot of people feel the OPPOSITE, which is a matter of personal experience and taste, but for my own, it always felt like the series was weighed down by a notion of needing to properly emulate The Genre. (We've all looked at the infamous browns and muds of Origins, a game I am fond of. This is why it looks and sounds like that, in my opinion.) This fear of being too anachronistic or too modern often left the series not really feeling, to me, like it's really had a firm sense or idea of what its style or voice was, of what made it sound or look like itself, because it was always afraid of being too modern while also feeling afraid to not look enough like a heroic epic fantasy.
I think getting rid of that and no longer fearing it has done a lot for developing a stronger voice with a look, sound, and feel for Veilguard that feels more specific and conveys story and character so much better and more confidently. Because, in the end, that's supposed to be what this is all in service of: conveying character and story. I feel like Veilguard, in being released from this restriction, has developed a stronger voice with which to do it.
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dylannsboy ¡ 3 days ago
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I was designed to kill not to be loved maybe it's different in another universe I wish I wasn't the bad person and I always fuck things up nothing I do is enough I give my all for ppl but they're never satisfied it's like I'm too much but at the same time not enough no one ever focuses on my accomplishments only my mistakes and things I do wrong. I wish I wasn't some stupid loser that is going to end up alone Im already planning my death so if you guys ever see a post saying goodbye and if I don't post or text back in a month I'm dead I made a promise to myself at 13 that id be dead before 18 and I'm keeping that promise this life isn't worth living. It's been filled with nothing but hatred anger sadness and nothing good. I try to find a way to stay but it's getting too hard I've been suffering all my life I don't even remember the time I was truly happy even in elementary I was lonely and always sad BCS of the bullying I received. My parents have never told me they're proud of me so I feel like I can't accomplish anything BCS I'll never be noticed Im never noticed anyways Ive never heard my mum have love in her voice when talking to me but I've heard her have love in her voice when talking to other children/people. What's wrong with me why am I not good enough. No matter how I try it's never good enough so I'm just tired of fighting I just want love and to feel needed so this is I guess a vent and a prewarning of my su!c!de.
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anamericangirl ¡ 2 days ago
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This was very sad for me to read and I completely empathize with how you are feeling - especially because the situation you are in I was in not too long ago. In my thirties, was having to live with my parents, and single. And I know first hand how hard and depressing that kind of situation is and was at a point where it looked like I would never get out of it and just wanted to give up because my life felt meaningless and no matter how hard I tried nothing about my circumstances would ever change - but I was wrong. Those feelings I had and had convinced myself were accurate were all false and they were temporary even though at the time it did not feel temporary.
Now, everything about my circumstances hasn't changed. I'm still in my thirties and still single but I'm in a much better place mentally and spiritually and those things don't matter to me or bring me down. I'm not upset about being single and I'll even be ok if I'm single forever because I know my worth as a human being isn't tied to my relationship status or age and that's true for you too. Your value as a person isn't tied to your relationship status, age, or where you live or who you live with. I know it's depressing when it's not where you want to be, but it's not indicative of a life that's not worth living. And honestly, these feelings that you are having and are projecting onto your circumstances are internal issues that aren't going to be fixed by finding a partner or moving out of your parents house. I know it can feel like that's all you need to be happy but those aren't the source of your troubles and they won't be the solutions. Even when my circumstances started to change for the better the depression didn't go away because my circumstances weren't actually the source of my depression. I had to mentally and spiritually reset myself.
I'm so sorry that's the impression you've been getting from the Christian crowd, but it's a completely inaccurate and unbiblical perspective. While kids are wonderful and a source of joy and become the most important of part of a person's life if they are blessed with children, your life can be just as important and fulfilling and valuable without children. Children are great but not everyone is called to have children and anyone who pressures a person and makes them feel like shit for being single and childless is a jerk. Which is why when I mention Christianity and God I don't recommend seeking out Christians, I recommend seeking out God.
Casting your cares and anxieties on God and seeking comfort through his word and putting your trust and faith in him is where the healing comes from. That is the main thing that got me through my depression. God is the worthwhile thing to live for. He gives your life purpose and meaning and created you specially and intentionally. God created you because he thought the world needed you and he's not done with you yet.
Not killing yourself is not cowardice - it is strength. I can tell you don't want to die, you just are at a loss because you don't see an end to your situation but I promise you there is one and it takes strength and resilience to push through the periods of life where it all feels pointless and hopeless and that's what you are doing!
No one is lying about grieving their loved ones. You are putting too much worth on being married and having kids and that's not the solution to your problems. Being married or whatever doesn't take away the love people have for the others in their life. Doing fine in life doesn't mean you won't grieve the loss of a loved one. I lost a family member to suicide years ago and I will never stop grieving him no matter how my circumstances change in the future - for better or for worse.
Your self worth doesn't come from your circumstances, the circumstances of the other people in your life, or the opinions of other people and you will always be disappointed as long as you are looking there for value.
I know I'm just a stranger on the internet and this all will probably mean nothing to you but I truly hope something resonates with you at least a little bit. You can talk or vent to me anytime and I will be praying for you every day <3
What’s a good reason to not take my own life? I’ve been feeling this way for years. Been to multiple treatment programs. Seen by several different therapists. Anti-depressants. I frequently go outdoors to exercise. Try to fill up my life with being optimistic about my (admittedly nice) job, hobbies, travel, and volunteering. And yet I’m still no better than I was 5 years ago and I have no hope about a happy future. “Your family will miss you.” Ok, and? I think it’s selfish to tell people in pain to continue living like that because some people might temporarily feel sad. They’ll eventually move on. My friends too, especially the ones who are happily married “to their best friends” and having babies and are so happy that they forget I exist.
Hey anon I hope I am not too late! I am just getting out of a hurricane and was without internet access for several days so i apologize for the delay.
But there are so many reasons not to take your own life. In fact, I can’t think of a single reason why you should.
I know it’s tough right now and trust me, I know that depression makes it all feel pointless and worthless and can plague you for years but even though if feels like forever I promise you these feelings and this depression and your circumstances are TEMPORARY. And it would be a tragedy for you to take your life over temporary circumstances and not see what is possible on the other side.
Yes your family and friends will miss you but you should stay because your life has purpose and meaning! Therapy and anti-depressants are good and I’m glad you’ve been trying those things because that means you don’t actually want to die - you just want the pain to stop. And that’s completely understandable and also manageable!
It’s great that you’ve been continuing to exercise and do volunteer work because those things can definitely impact your mood, but they aren’t the source of true joy, peace and happiness. Now I’m a Christian so I’m sure it won’t surprise you for me to say this, but what you are looking for and what you need can only come from God. I urge you to put your faith and trust in him and give him your burdens.
The devil has a hold on you right now, don’t let him win!
“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” - Isaiah 41:10
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. - Jeremiah 29:11
“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” - John 10:10
“Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken.” - psalm 55:22
“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. The righteous person may have many troubles, but the LORD delivers him from them all.” - psalm 34:18-19
But now that I’ve gone on my spiel, here are some reasons I think it’s good to keep living. Not all my original thoughts but ones i agree with.
1. You matter
2. No one else is you.
3. Your younger self
4. Your next favorite song.
5. Warm blankets.
6. Thunderstorms
7. The fact that you’re in control of your future.
8. Experiencing new cultures.
9. Making new friends.
10. Road trips.
11. Sunsets and sunrises.
12. Reading good books.
13. Learning a new language.
14. Adopting a pet.
15. Fresh baked bread and cookies.
16. Getting packages in the mail.
17. Autumn.
18. Pumpkin spice.
19. Drinking coffee in the morning.
20. Beaches and being able to sink your toes into the sand.
21. Stepping on crunchy leaves.
22. Recovery.
23. Falling in love.
24. Rain.
25. Petting puppies and kittens.
26. Drinking water.
27. Trying something new and loving it.
28. Your favorite artist putting out new music.
29. A new season on your favorite TV show.
30. Planting a garden and growing your own vegetables.
31. Farmers Markets.
32. Trying out the newest local coffee shop or restaurant.
33. Karaoke
34. All of the people you have yet to meet.
35. Horseback riding
36. Stars.
37. Ice cream.
38. Ice tea.
39. Scented candles.
40. Learning something new.
41. Museums.
42. Going to the movies.
43. Hearing your favorite song come on the radio.
44. Learning to make a new recipe.
45. Your life is precious.
46. You are enough.
47. Random acts of kindness.
48. God looked at the world and thought it needed you.
49. Your story could save someone else.
50. Looking back on this time in 10 years and realizing you made it.
There’s an endless amount of reasons to stay alive and I hope some of them resonate with you.
But if you are desperate please reach out to the suicide prevention hotline at 988. If you are outside the US then you can find the number for your location here.
Please know that I am praying for you and please reach out to me again if you want to. I would love to keep up with how you are doing 💜
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royalarchivist ¡ 9 months ago
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[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]
Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?
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[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*
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Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.
Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!
Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.
* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.
#Pactw#QSMP#Pac#March 18 2024#As much as I love keeping people updated about Pac / the other Portuguese-speaking creators#I think I might not make as many transcribed posts for their clips anymore#I just don't think I'm qualified enough to be transcribing things for a language I don't know#like yeah we have the Qlobal Translator and Aypierre's translators to rely on#And I'm always upfront when I'm not 100% sure about a translation#but I've been thinking about it a lot and it kinda makes me feel a bit icky. Idk.#I might be overthinking this but I just I don't want to spread around translations I'm not super confident about#esp. since I know a lot of people cite my clips in analysis posts or link them to other people as resources#and 90% of the time I'm like ''Hell yeah I love seeing people getting a lot of use out of the archive''#but sometimes I get a bit anxious like ''Did I do a good enough job translating this''#''Am I ruining someone's entire perception of a conversation or character because I left one word out or mistranslated something?''#And like I said that's normally not a HUGE concern since if I'm not certain about a translation I just won't post a clip. but you know#idk it might just be the anxiety talking but I really really don't want to spread bad info#Happy to hear other folks' perspective#I'm really grateful for people like Bell and Pix and others who translate clips and I always try to reblog those#but we don't have a ton of people posting clips & translating things on Tumblr since we're so English-centric#which is part of the reason WHY I like sharing clips of the non-English-speaking CCs#but at the same time I want to do an accurate job representing what they're saying#Maybe I'll just start posting things and give a TLDR context of what they're talking about but not a transcript#that way native-speakers can hop in and add translations if that's something they're comfortable doing#and if not then well. at least I'm not sharing something that isn't super accurate#idk I'm just thinking out loud a bit in the tags#But I'm open to hearing other people's thoughts on the matter#Anyways giant rant aside. q!Pac is NOT doing ok rn
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hadesknockedupintheunderworld ¡ 3 months ago
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The fans: Ugh Sonic was just so preachy. I mean obviously he's supposed to be the good guy, so any uncomfortableness I feel here and any way I feel like Sonic's choices are framed as being why some other people have shitty lives is just bad writing because he is obviously supposed to be right always, but this characterization makes no sense. Isn't he right for the things he did?
Ian Flynn, using Kitsunami to say the (barely even at this point) quiet part even louder: Hey it's almost like ever since the Mr. Tinker event we've been purposely running with the critique of Sonic as being more selfish than he appears. Sonic is upholding a system of Eggman v Sonic that currently benefits him and shuts down talk of how to improve the current system because he likes his own personal enjoyment and he's attached enough to Eggman that he'd rather Eggman pretend to be a good person than be stuck in prison for life. He doesn't even quite practice what he preaches. We are trying to show that the current hero v villain system and Sonic's recklessness currently affects some people poorly and that Sonic isn't a perfect hero.
#fandom wank#sonic the hedgehog#idw sonic comics#idw sonic 2024 annual#2024 sonic annual spoilers#idw somic comic spoilers#idw sonic spoilers#idw 2024 sonic annual spoilers#i just be ramblin#god one of these days I need to commit to the sonic character essay#because you HAVE to be able to see Sonic as a multifaceted character that is surprisingly selfish and a bit self centered despite his image#as a good hero who is always right to understand what the writers for Sonic Prime and Idw Sonic are trying to do#The point is not that Sonic is secretly a bad guy or anything#the point is that we're already primed to assume that anything Sonic does is a good thing because he's a hero and protagonist of what is#considered a 'children's media'#And people who can see those moments in different games or properties times where Sonic isn't being so good as him actually not being so#good of a person are primed to explain it away as flaws of the writing or the genre at that time *because* Sonic's behavior is not said to#be bad or punished in those games#And become we're already primed to assume that Sonic is already the good guy who's making the best choices no matter what‚ it's supposed to#be shocking when the narrative takes a step back and gives a critique of this status quo by showing us the effects of it#But instead of having some sort of eye opening event or being willing to meet the narrative where it's at#99% of the people who post here got uncomfortable and just doubled down‚ saying that because these things are being pointed out and some of#Sonic's actions (that aren't even alien to the games)#are being framed in a not so good light‚ then it must not be purposeful. That it must be bad writing through and through and just bad#Sonic characterization#because for people who claim they want Sonic as a series to be deeper and more thought out they sure start to pearl clutch when they feel#like a property isn't being as shallow as the very same games they think kinda suck#anyways anyways sorry about the rant I'll get back to regularly scheduled posting after this#vent post
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skunkes ¡ 7 months ago
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if life is categorized by Before Loss and After Loss then I exist in the before but with a countdown to the after. and the countdown is always always present and debilitating. the loss will be debilitating too but i cant help myself. i will always suffer twice.
#i cant let go of it. i cant even enjoy good moments without thinking about how they'll just be memories one day#how they're already memories since moments pass so fast#everything is I'll Miss This and i already miss it and i cant believe once you're gone you're gone forever#and ill never ever see you again. and your shell is in the ground but where did the rest of you go?#should i look at your body one last time? on one hand itll be the last time i see you.#on the other hand it will be the last time i see you.#and the memory of you will die with me too. as if neither ever existed#it impacts me so much too bc i dont feel close to anybody really...and i dont make friends easily#so whats going to happen when the people who have always been there arent there anymore?#im going to be alone for so much of my life.#i will record your voice so im ready for when i cant hear it from the source while also knowing it wont be enough and one day#ill be wishing it lasted longer. it could be 12 hours long and ill want more.#how do you surpass this? it hasn't even happened. when it happens i don't know what ill do. considering my whole life has been#the timer. the countdown. hours and hours of anticipatory grief#and then ill be next. me. some of all thats left of you. it cant be true.#sorry. this gets worse every single year and its been going insane lately#id surprisingly been managing it well for months somehow ! it wouldnt cross my mind...and now its there again#like it accumulated and its all coming out right now. ive been crying for hrs tonight and last night#one day his things will just be things. things ive made and given him will be in my hands again.#talkys#i want to go hug my dad but then ill just cry over how one day i wont be able to....! how do i store it? how do i save it?#how do i preserve it forever....even as i take my own last breath....#i cant believe im the only one of me. and my dad is the only one of him.#i wouldnt want to be reborn as anyone else. i cant believe one day i wont get to draw or eat or be comfy in bed anymore.#i cant take it !! im so scared. ill be scared until the end. and you wont be there to hold my hand. im going to be alone.#and none of those years of grief and joy and memories will matter.#i wonder if it would help to tell him about this. i need something to hold onto for when it happens. anything. but i also know it'll make i#hurt more; obviously. just another piece of him that'll be gone one day
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blackcatxmagic ¡ 11 hours ago
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It had been awhile since Dimi had had a night like this, the casual flirtation with a handsome man, the free feeling of being able to do whatever he wanted. He loved Ozma more than anything, but the fact of the matter was that being a single parent meant you didn't always have a lot of time to yourself. With no idea when the next time would be, Dimi decided to just enjoy the night, however it turned out.
Smirking, Dimi replied, "I think I'm good with the handsome man I'm talking to right now." The longer this banter went on, the more Dimi was saying, the looser he felt with his words. Maybe nothing would come of it, but it was fun at least. He noticed the way Jack's face changed at the mention of the chaps, and Dimi grinned wide; it was the reaction he had been hoping for. "Maybe the next time we come here, I'll surprise you," Dimi replied suggestively. "But tell me, what happens if I wear them too tight?" Of course he had an idea, but Dimi wanted to see how Jack would reply.
They were dancing close now, slower than the people around them, but Dimi didn't much care. His body warmed to the way Jack touched his waist, his own hand on the small of the other's back, pulling him just a little bit closer. Smiling, Dimi replied, "I would if you wanted me to. I think you'd make a very good subject. And I never said it had to be professionally. These could just be for...fun." Dimi didn't want to be too forward because he didn't want to cross the line into creepy territory, so Dimi just let the comment hang there, eyes on Jack's, waiting for his reaction. "I think you'd be very pleased with the end result," he added, his smile growing. "Tell me your ideas."
A few minutes later when they were at the bar, Dimi got the same thing Jack was having, though he made sure his was a little heavier on the rum. "Are you staying at the Inn?" Dimi asked the man. "I'll make sure you get somewhere safe tonight," he promised, and that wasn't even meant to be suggestive, though there were connotations there because of the way this conversation had gone thus far. But really Dimi would make sure Jack got somewhere safe and warm before the night was over. "New in town," Dimi said, taking a swig of his drink. "I've barely moved in actually and haven't even gotten the studio back up and running yet. I bought it from the previous owners less than a month ago." There were of course a lot of things Dimi didn't want to say about why he'd come here, so instead he turned the conversation back on Jack, asking, "And what about you? What brings you to town?"
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Jack chuckled at Dimi’s comment, his grin wide and his eyes sparkling. "Yeah, he really did say that," he replied, his tone light and teasing. "As sure as my name’s Jack." He was completely at ease, this was his element - it was what he was good at and good for -- finding people and focusing all of his attention on them, so he could learn about them.
When Dimi teased him about finding a handsome man to hang his hat on, Jack raised an eyebrow, enjoying the flirtation. "Well, if you think I’m cute, I’m sure there’s someone else around here who’s even more so," he said. "But no promises." Jack laughed when Dimi mentioned compliments going to his head. "I’ve got more where that came from," he said. "But if just the couple I've given you have you like this -- maybe I should save some compliments for next time."
Of course then, Dimi was talking about going the cowboy route, and when Dimi brought up wearing chaps, Jack’s grin widened. "Oh, you’d rock 'em," he said, his voice full of honest glee. "Chaps could definitely be your thing." He let his eyes roam over Dimi briefly before adding, "Just... don’t wear 'em too tight, alright?" The flirtation was light but genuine, and Jack was enjoying every second of it.
Jack pulled Dimi a little closer, his hand resting comfortably at his waist as they continued to move together. "You’re not half bad for someone who was stiff at first," Jack teased, leaning in closer to whisper in Dimi’s ear, his breath warm against his skin. "Next time, grab any old stranger and dance with them, I think you'd have fun." It was when Dimi mentioned photographing him, that Jack’s eyebrow quirked, clearly intrigued. "You want to take pictures of me?" he asked, his voice full of playful curiosity. "Little Ole' Me? Just a drifter fresh off the train? Hell's bells ... that sounds like a good time... but not sure what you'd get out of professionally. Personally though - I have ideas."
But Dimi was right; they needed to sit and drink, so they made their way to the bar, the atmosphere between them light and full of energy. Jack sat down next to Dimi, glancing at him with a teasing grin. "Rum and Coke - heavy on the coke, light on the rum," he said. "I still need to figure out how to get to the Inn after this. I have a bed there, but - I found the bar first. So, here I've been. All the regulars here have been so chatty and welcoming... so, what about you Dimi -- new in town or full of stories from growing up in this little, strange town?"
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solivagantingrebel ¡ 1 month ago
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hey guys who wants another round of tmi
#ive been#this entire day has been a lot and i have no idea how to feel about it#i've never cried this much in an entire day and i can't stop myself from tearing up but it's not because of something sad or traumatic i'm#not used to being loved. or appreciated. or meant to feel like i belong anywhere. i've struggled with being excluded and ostracized and it#has been an uphill battle for a long time and deep down despite my many attempts to heal and get better i've always felt like something was#fundamentally wrong with me. it has been wrong with me from the start and whatever evidence to the contrary ive gotten was rationalised awa#by fluke or maybe people like me because of what i can provide and what i can do for them and not because of who i am and who i am will#always be tolerated or ignored at best and i genuinely was not expecting anyone but a few close friends to care about this and just. andjus#i think something in me is healing and it's still hard to accept but i can conceptualize it and any negative thought in my brain is being#countered by “hey why would you think that when people care about you” and i know it is obvious right. its something i should know but it#has always been so hard to believe that anyone would and the fact that it's hitting right now? i cant fucking stop crying#its almost fucking embarrassing im like this. im a grown ass adult. why the fuck am i still crying like this. i fucking hate trauma man#keeps making me feel like im that kid who was never loved in the ways that mattered. sorry im just#thankful. grateful. i feel like some parts of that gaping wound is stitching itself together and i cant stop crying and for once im not#crying because i'm being hurt. i'm just grateful to be here. genuinely fucking grateful that i'm alive#funny isnt it. how much love can save you if you let it#tmi#rant#embarrassed myself enough i think#sorry about that we'll go to our regularly scheduled ghoap program soon enough#i'll be okay
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lilacerull0 ¡ 2 months ago
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i feel like reading/watching mbf immediately means knowing who i am as a person and... i cannot allow this
#you all know that i can't stand gatekeeping and how that's why i bring up what i like all the time in various contexts#but the surprising thing with mbf for me is that i can't talk about it as freely to people who don't know me#because i can't find a way to translate it without having to offer some crucial segment of myself#i enjoy sharing ideas and thoughts more than anything else but i don't like sharing me the person behind them#because i really cherish my individuality as something important in spite of where it takes me sometimes#i don't want to tarnish it!!!! i don't want even the smallest piece of it to be missing because i wouldn't know what to do anymore#i'll stick to typing out thoughts here and to my mom and to my med textbooks#but i must say it feels strangely refreshing to have something that is only my own this way because i always have to put myself out there#and this way i am not giving anyone the opportunity to twist it into something terrible about me#my spontaneous outbursts might ruin this for me though#letters from stephanie*#i dislike that i can't step outside of my own experiences with this like i usually do because art should be shared#this is suchhh a crazy person post#i think i finally get what my dad means when we fight about how i shouldn't say everything i think all the time#he doesn't want me to filter myself he wants me to preserve who i am from harm because stepping up sometimes won't help#who i'm trying to help but it will ruin me in some way even if it just makes me upset#i think that's how he manages to be calm without betraying himself?#he isn't lying he's just saying what he thinks when it matters and to those that matter#like most of the time i am right to single myself out but there is a particular shade of grey when i shouldn't do it#idk this is literally donna telling the dr YOU CAN STOP NOW.#realistically i just need someone to calm me down when my passions turn against me#overly personal post once again i am sooo sorryyyy look away
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suniside-crossing ¡ 2 months ago
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soonhoonsol ¡ 1 year ago
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you guys ever get tired of friends who only talk about themselves? how do you respectfully tell them off?
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