#now we have our kitties and a house and we work and work

[scribefindegil]

Nothing knocks you out of the malaise (existential, not post-exertional, alas) like unexpectedly capturing a cat!

[queensparklekitten]

btw did i ever tell you guys cupcake jones has recently resumed her mousing side gig

[archie-sunshine]

JUNE MERCH DROP!

SO! Before I had this whole nightmare medical issue and had to be confined to my bed for ALMOST A MONTH NOW- I was working on a load of these merch designs!! Sadly I was only able to get 7 of them done, but we make do with what we have. SO!!!!!!!

WE ARE BACK TO MAKING STICKERS BABY!!! First off, continuing from our breakout star last merch drop, we have the TF ONE KITTEN BASKET in star holo print!!!

Next up, for those who want the individual members of TFA’s team Prime- TF ANIMATED KITTIES!! Featuring as well, METER. KITTY. STICKER.

As for the rest of the shop I got BUCKETS of old stickers from other drops so you know what that means?? THATS RIGHT DISCOUNT TIME!!! We got old kitten baskets, candy lovers, ribbon heads, Halloween costume chain, kitty lumps and MORE all on discount!!!

For lower shelf items I urge you to pick up more than one as it’s less than economical for me to spend 2.50 to ship a 2 dollar item which PayPal took .50 cents from in the transaction, but it’s up to you all!

NOW, REGARDING THE BODY PILLOWS.

so if you followed me last year during the Christmas season, you would know that I had a spot of…. Difficulty sending out the dakimakuras. Sadly, due to this I’ve had to up the price of shipping on them :( I only have 4 left and I want them out of my house and off to a loving home, so if one of these fellows strikes your interest and you are on the continent of North America, these lovely peach skin velvet offerings are for you!

All of these designs and more are available for preorder RIGHT NOW on my Ko-fi!! Thank you so much for supporting me, I know it’s been forever since I posted art, but being able to pay for myself while I’m stuck in bed would be such a weight off my back.

I hope I’m able to get whatever needs to get done wrapped up, and I’m able to be back on my feet and at my desk to draw in no time flat! It’s just annoying that this year has been so unkind to me art wise >:\

https://ko-fi.com/archiesunshine/shop

[pomefioredove]

can i order a sugar cookie, #18, with frosting and dry fruit please 💕💕 love your work

coughs weakly

order #18, sugar with frosting, dry fruit

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ intent to bite

summary: a miscommunication leads to sharing a small bed with lilia tropes: only one bed, first kiss characters: lilia additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, who is an adult, a lil suggestive

"Told you this was a bad idea," Grim mumbles.

"Why am I stuck with Sebek, anyway?! I should be with my hench-human!"

You hold a finger to your lips. So much for hoping Grim would mind his manners on this trip.

"We've been over this," Silver says, carrying a six or seven bags inside the house. "Malleus will take the first guest room, Lilia and the Prefect will take the second, because it has two beds. Sebek and I are sleeping in the lounge, where there's a dog bed for you."

"I'm no dog!"

"That's not-" Silver sighs, looking to you for help. You have nothing.

Then, there's breath on your neck and a voice in your ear. "Oh, don't look so glum. It'll be a fine bonding experience for you boys!"

You jolt, and Lilia giggles into your ear, the airy, cheerful sound almost as teasing as the prank.

Grim sighs. "I bet Sebek snores like a lawn mower..."

"And you don't?" you mutter, much to Lilia's delight.

"Khee hee. Personally, I'm tickled by this! The Zigvolt family is as welcoming as ever. Oh, Malleus, do you need help with that?"

The smaller fae leaves to hold the door open for Malleus, while Grim repeats "tickled??" in a grumble. Silver sighs again.

"It's been a long journey. We'll all feel better once we've slept,"

"This can't be right,"

You stand in the narrow doorway, overnight bag in hand. The guest room is dark, but you can still feel how small it is. There's no way two people can fit in here.

Lilia peers over your shoulder. "What's- ah. I see,"

Your eyes adjust to the darkness. There's only one. There's only one bed.

"Now, this is unfortunate. Our rooms must have been mixed up. And Malleus has already retired, poor thing..."

You look at him. "What are we going to do?"

"Do? Why, sleep, of course,"

"Where?"

Lilia smiles and pats your head, as if you were an adorable kitty cat rather than a very tired and disgruntled adult after a full day of travel.

"In bed, my dear. Unless you were planning on taking the bath,"

He slips under your arm and into the room, tossing his bag on the floor with no regard or interest for the clothes and trinkets that spill from it.

You follow, putting your own things away as he makes himself comfortable on the bed. "Well?"

"...You can't honestly act as if this is normal,"

Lilia giggles. "What are you so afraid of? I'm not going to eat you,"

You listen, if only a little, sitting at the edge of the bed, as far from him as possible. Why is this making you so nervous?

"I'm just not used to it. That's all,"

Shit excuse. He can tell, too, if that smirk of his is any indication.

"Ah, I see. You think, hope, perhaps? that I'm going to make a move on you, as the kids say,"

Your eyes widen and you stumble over yourself, trying to come up with a rebuttal, an excuse, a lie, anything at all.

His smirk sharpens. Literally- his fangs dig into his lower lip, and he sticks his tongue out at you.

"If you're going to be this tense all night, you won't get any sleep. I'll tell you what-" he says, sitting up. "I will graciously allow you one kiss to sate your curiosity. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Now that's just unfair. "That's- what makes you think I would-!"

You stumble some more, and he drinks in the sight of you, flustered and nervous and oh-so close to him.

Lilia lets you argue with yourself until you're spent.

"...Fine,"

He claps. "Very well. Come here, Prefect,"

You sigh, but cross the bed, anyway, feeling the soft, handmade quilt underhand. You can't believe you're going to do this in Sebek's house, of all places...

Curse this fae.

You sit before him, far more vulnerable than you would have liked.

"Very good. But you could come a little closer, don't you think?"

Again, you listen. You sit on his lap, straddling his thighs, much to his delight.

"Better," he mumbles, perhaps more to himself than to you, because then his hand is holding the back of your head and his mouth is on yours.

Lilia doesn't give you much, and you know that's his intention. The kiss is much too chaste for him, and much too slow for you, but passion and pace were never a part of the deal.

You let it go.

And with some reluctance, you part from him, warm and jittery. That wasn't enough, and he knows it.

"You look like you have something you want to ask," Lilia says, his fingers brushing over your neck, feeling the beating of your heart in your pulse.

"...No," you lie.

He smirks again, baring his fangs as if warning you of his intent to bite.

"Khee hee. Don't worry, desire is nothing to be ashamed of. And we all have our little secrets... I, for example, may have asked Malleus to switch rooms with us."

Despite what Silver had said, you can't imagine sleeping now.

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 2023 - nothing matters but you

chapter summary: The remaining X-Men come up with a plan to change their present; send Logan back in time to change the past.

word count: 17.1k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: oooohhhh boy!! i've been waiting for this chapter for so long and it's finally here! i'll have more to say at the end, but for now, and i truly mean it, enjoy!!! <3

warnings/tags: takes place during 'days of future past', dofp!logan, light miscommunication, angst, light violence, blood, character death, fluff, memory loss, happy ending!

series masterlist - chapter 10

The Blackbird landed on the top of the large mountain in front of a monastery. Ororo walked out first, followed by Logan, who paused at the bottom of the stairs to light his cigar, Charles, whose chair hovered down the stairs, and Erik.

They walked to the front of the monastery as Bobby spoke, “Professor.”

Ororo smiled, “Bobby.”

“Hey, Storm,” he replied, giving the woman a hug.

“Hey, kid.” Logan said.

“Professor,” Kitty called out. “You made it.”

The group made their way inside as Kitty explained how the group had been surviving, “Warpath spots them, and I send Bishop back to warn us of the attack before it happens. Blink scouts the next site, and… well, we leave before they ever know we were there.”

“Because we never were.” Bishop said.

“But what do you mean, you were never there?” Logan asked.

Charles looked over at Logan, “she projects Bishop back in time a few days to warn the others of the coming attack.”

“So she sends Bishop back in time?”

“No, just his consciousness into his younger self, his younger body.” Charles clarified.

“Wow.” Logan muttered.

“This might just work, Charles.” Erik commented.

“What might work?” Kitty questioned.

“The Sentinel program was originally conceived by Dr. Bolivar Trask. In the early ‘70s, he was one of the world’s leading weapons designers, but covertly, he had begun experimenting on mutants, using their gifts to fuel his own research. There was one mutant who had discovered what he was doing.” Charles explained.

“A mutant with the ability to transform herself into anyone.” Erik added.

“Mystique,” Peter said.

“I knew her as Raven. We met when we were children. Grew up together. She was like a sister to me. I tried to help her, but only succeeded in driving her away. She hunted Trask across the world, and at the Paris Peace Accords in 1973, after the Vietnam War, she found Trask. And killed him. It was the first time she killed.”

“It wasn’t her last.” Logan added on.

“But killing Trask did not have the outcome she expected. It only persuaded the government of the need for his program. They captured her that day. Tortured her. Experimented on her. In her DNA, they discovered the secrets to her powers of transformation. It gave them the key they needed to create weapons that could adapt to any mutant power, and in less than 50 years, the machines that have destroyed so many of our kind were created. But it all started that day in 1973, the day she first killed, the day she truly became… Mystique.” Charles finished.

“You want to go back there,” Kitty said.

“If I can get to her, stop the assassination, keep her out of their hands, then we can stop the Sentinels from ever being born.”

“And end this war before it ever begins.” Erik spoke.

“I-I can send someone back a couple weeks. I mean, maybe a month, but you’re talking about going back decades. You have the most powerful brain in the world, Professor, but the mind can only stretch so far before it snaps. It would rip you apart. I’m sorry. No one could survive that trip.” Kitty remarked.

“What if someone’s mind has a way of snapping back?” Logan asked. “What if someone can heal as fast as they’re ripped apart?”

---

Logan stood by the table as Charles, Erik, Kitty, and Bobby stood nearby, the rest outside of the monastery keeping watch.

“So I wake up in my younger body, God knows where. Then what?”

“You’ll need to go to my house and find me. Convince me of all of this.” Charles moved closer to Logan.

“Won’t you be able to just read my mind?”

“I didn’t have my powers in 1973. Logan, you’re going to have to do for me what I once did for you. Lead me, guide me. I was a very different man then. You’ll have to be patient with me.”

Logan scoffed, “patience isn’t my strongest suit.”

“You’ll need me as well,” Erik spoke up.

“What?” Logan turned to face Erik behind him.

“After Mystique left Charles, she came with me, and I set her on a dangerous path. Darker path. It’s going to take the two of us, side by side at a time when we couldn’t be further apart.”

Logan looked at Charles who nodded in affirmation, “great,” he muttered to himself. “So, where do I find you?”

“Well, it’s complicated.” Erik said, as Logan shook his head and stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

Logan got onto the table and lied down, Kitty sitting at the head of the table, “basically, your body will go to sleep while your mind travels back in time. Now, as long as you’re back there, past and present will continue to coexist, but once you wake up… whatever you’ve done will take hold and become history. And for the rest of us it’ll be the only history that we know. It’ll be like the last 50 years never happened. And this world, and this war… the only person who will remember it is you.” Kitty took a breath, “all right, Logan, I need you to clear your head and to stay as calm possible.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“If your mind gets rocky, it’ll be harder for me to hold you, and you could start to slip between past and future.”

“What if I need to get a little rocky?”

Kitty lightly shook her head, “think peaceful thoughts?”

“Peaceful thoughts.” Logan repeated. “You have any good news?”

“Well, I mean, you don’t really age, so you’ll pretty much look the same.”

Bobby spoke up, “you won’t have much time in the past. The Sentinels will find us. They always do.”

“And this time, we won’t be able to run. We’ll have no escape. This is our last chance.” Kitty’s hands hovered near the sides of Logan’s head.

“See you all soon.” Logan said.

“This might sting a little.”

---

Logan blinked, his vision adjusting to the dim, warm glow of the lava lamp. Its lazy, hypnotic bubbles drifted in the liquid, but his mind was racing to catch up. The sharp, immediate transition from the future to… this—the past, his past—had his senses momentarily disoriented.

The pressure against his neck snapped him into focus. An arm was draped over his shoulder from behind, soft, warm, and familiar. He shifted his head just enough to glance at the hand resting on his chest. It was delicate, but the grip was firm, like whoever it belonged to had no intention of letting him go.

“Mornin’,” your voice came from behind him, groggy and soft. Your tone was laced with the remnants of sleep but carried the easy, teasing warmth that always seemed to put him off guard.

His heart clenched. You.

You leaned into him slightly, pressing your cheek against his shoulder as you stretched, entirely unaware of the whirlwind in his head. The past, your face, the other you. The fact that he hadn’t seen this version of you in nearly 50 years.

“Didn’t think I’d need to pry you out of bed first,” you teased lightly, your hand giving his chest a playful pat before you settled again. “Usually, you’re already up before the sun, big guy.”

Logan’s jaw clenched at the nickname. His eyes narrowed at the room—a modest hotel room with vintage floral wallpaper and creaky wooden furniture—and the small pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. His leather jacket. Your dress. The pieces clicked into place far too quickly, but they didn’t make it easier to stomach.

He turned his head enough to catch sight of you, hair slightly messy, lips curled in a lazy grin. You were radiant in a way that didn’t match the world he’d just left behind. The world he’d come back to fix. And you had no idea how much he’d missed that expression.

“What’s with the look?” you asked, tilting your head. “Do I have something on my face, or are you just debating whether or not you’re gonna finish that cigar from yesterday?”

Logan shook his head slightly, clearing the fog. “Nah. Just… thinkin’.”

“You?” you quipped. “That’s dangerous.”

“Cute,” he replied dryly, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

You laughed and pulled back, sitting up against the headboard. Your expression softened when you caught a hint of the tension still lingering in his body. “You okay? You seem… off.”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting on the edge to gather himself. “Just didn’t sleep great.”

“You tossed and turned a lot,” you agreed, though your concern didn’t waver. “Another bad dream?”

Logan didn’t answer immediately. The memories of the future, the Sentinels, the war, and your other death pressed heavily on him. Instead, he grunted noncommittally and stood, grabbing his jeans from a chair nearby.

“Y’know,” you said behind him, watching as he pulled on his shirt, “most bodyguards don’t get that much real estate in their boss’s daughter’s bed.”

Logan froze for a beat before throwing you a glance over his shoulder. “Most bodyguards don’t sneak them outta her own wedding either, darlin’.”

You grinned mischievously, leaning your head back against the headboard. “Guess that makes us even.”

He shook his head but couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped. You haven’t changed a bit.

Before either of you could say anything more, there was a sharp knock on the door. Logan’s entire body tensed, his senses sharpening instantly. He sniffed the air, picking up the distinct scents of sweat, leather, and gunpowder.

“Stay here,” he said lowly, grabbing his jacket and stepping toward the door.

“Logan, what—”

“I mean it,” he said, cutting you off with a firm glance. The tone in his voice told you not to argue.

He moved toward the door, his hand hovering over the knob as his other reached behind him for the small knife he kept tucked into his waistband. He opened the door slightly, just enough to peer through the crack.

Two men stood in the hall, dressed in dark suits. Their faces were sharp, unfamiliar, but their eyes carried an unmistakable menace.

“Can I help you?” Logan asked gruffly.

“Yeah,” one of them said. “We’re here for the lady. Her father’s lookin’ for her.”

Logan didn’t hesitate. He slammed the door shut and locked it, spinning back toward you. “Get down,” he barked.

“What’s going on?” you asked, but the urgency in his voice made you scramble off the bed.

The door shuddered as one of the men kicked it. Logan growled low in his throat, adrenaline surging as his hands instinctively balled into fists. Bone claws erupted from his knuckles with a sickening snikt, and he turned toward the door just as it splintered inward.

Your sharp gasp filled the room, but there was no time for questions. Logan launched himself at the first man, driving his claws deep into the guy’s shoulder. Blood sprayed across the room as the second man raised a gun, but Logan was faster. He yanked his claws free and swung, knocking the weapon from the man’s hand before driving his claws into his stomach.

It was over in seconds, but the aftermath left the room in chaos. Logan stood over the bodies, his breathing heavy, his shirt streaked with blood. His claws glistened in the dim light, and as he turned toward you, his expression softened.

“Logan…” you whispered, your voice shaking. Your eyes were wide, fixed on the bone claws still protruding from his hands.

He hesitated, then retracted them with a shudder, the wounds on his knuckles sealing themselves almost instantly. “I can explain,” he said gruffly.

“You—you just…” You couldn’t find the words.

“Y/N,” he said, stepping toward you carefully. “I need you to trust me.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. The man you thought you knew had just turned into something else entirely—but it wasn’t fear that kept you rooted in place. It was the way he was looking at you, desperate, protective, like he’d go through hell just to keep you safe.

“I…” You took a shaky breath. “I trust you.”

Logan’s shoulders sagged in relief, though the tension in the room didn’t dissipate. He grabbed a bag from the corner of the room and tossed it toward you. “We need to move. Now.”

Before you could question him further, he bent down, rummaging through the man’s jacket pocket to snag the keys before heading for the door. You hesitated, your mind still racing to process what you had just seen. The claws, the blood, the sheer force he used to take out armed men—it was like something out of a nightmare. But Logan wasn’t the nightmare. He was the only constant in this whirlwind you called your life.

“Y/N,” Logan’s voice broke through your haze. He was standing by the door, his tone sharp but not unkind. “Let’s go. Now.”

You shoved a few belongings into the bag, still half-dressed from sleep, and moved quickly to his side. “Logan, what the hell is goin’ on?”

“I’ll explain later,” he said, keeping his voice low and his gaze locked on the hallway as he peeked out. “For now, we’ve gotta put some distance between us and whoever else your father’s sent after you.”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of your father, but you followed him out of the room, clutching the strap of the bag tightly. “How did they even find us?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care,” Logan muttered, leading you down the narrow hallway. His shoulders were rigid, his entire body coiled like a spring. “What matters is keeping you outta their hands.”

The two of you reached the stairwell, and Logan paused at the top, scanning the area below. He tilted his head, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. Whatever he smelled didn’t seem to calm him, but he motioned for you to follow anyway.

You descended the stairs as quietly as you could, your bare feet barely making a sound against the worn carpet. “Logan, seriously, you need to tell me what’s going on. Those… claws, or whatever—”

“Not now, sweetheart,” he interrupted, his voice tense but firm. “We’ve gotta focus on getting outta here.”

You bit your lip, frustration bubbling under your skin. This wasn’t the first time Logan had dodged your questions, but after what you’d just seen, you weren’t about to let it slide for long.

The two of you slipped out a side door into the cool morning air. The parking lot was mostly empty, save for a few scattered vehicles. Logan made a beeline for a black sedan parked near the edge of the lot. He unlocked the door and ushered you inside without a word.

“Logan—” you started as he slid into the driver’s seat, but he cut you off again.

“Buckle up,” he said, starting the engine.

You shot him a glare but did as he said, snapping the seatbelt into place. Logan peeled out of the lot, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as his eyes flicked between the road and the rearview mirror.

For a few minutes, the only sound was the hum of the engine and the faint thud of your heartbeat in your ears. You watched him closely, noting the way his jaw clenched and his knuckles turned white around the wheel.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on now?” you finally demanded, crossing your arms. “Because I think I deserve an explanation after that little… display back there.”

Logan let out a slow breath through his nose, his eyes still on the road. “It’s complicated.”

“No kidding,” you shot back. “Start with the claws. What the hell are they, Logan? And don’t tell me they’re some kind of freak weapon because I saw them come out of your hands.”

He glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable. “They’re a part of me,” he said simply.

You blinked, taken aback by the matter-of-fact tone in his voice. “What do you mean, ‘a part of you’? Like, you were born with them?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he muttered.

You stared at him, waiting for more, but he didn’t elaborate. Frustration bubbled over, and you leaned forward, grabbing his arm. “Logan, I’m serious. I need answers.”

He sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as he finally looked over at you. “I’ll tell you everything, sweetheart. Just not right now. Right now, we’ve gotta focus on getting somewhere safe.”

“And where’s that?” you asked, your voice softening slightly.

“A place I know,” he said, turning his attention back to the road. “We’ll head north, get outta the city, and figure it out from there.”

You frowned, unsure whether to trust his vague assurances. But the look in his eyes, the raw determination mixed with something you couldn’t quite place—it was enough to quiet your doubts for now.

“Fine,” you said, leaning back in your seat. “But you owe me the truth. All of it.”

Logan smirked faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ve always been a tough one, huh?”

“Damn right,” you muttered, crossing your arms again. But despite your defiant tone, a small part of you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something else—something warm and familiar—when he called you tough.

You didn’t notice the way his grip on the wheel tightened at your response or the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly. To you, this was just another chaotic morning in the whirlwind of your life. But to Logan, it was a painful reminder of how many mornings like this he’d lost with you.

---

You tapped your fingers on your thigh, still waiting for Logan to come out of this mansion, which looked like it had seen better days.

You groaned as you tilted your head back, adjusting yourself in the car seat. It had been a while since Logan left the car and went inside, almost 2 hours. You would know, you’ve been watching the clock.

Finally, Logan stepped outside and briskly walked to the car door, opening it for you. “Jesus, what took so long?” You asked, as he grabbed your bag from the backside and guided you into the house where two other men were, one with glasses, the other with long curly hair. “Logan-?”

“You’re staying here.” He stated.

You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes narrowing at Logan. “What?” you demanded. “You said we’d figure this out together. You didn’t say anything about leaving me here.”

Logan ran a hand through his hair, already looking stressed. “Plans changed, darlin’,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “Charles and Hank are comin’ with me. We’ve got somethin’ to take care of, and it’s safer if you stay here.”

“Safer? Logan, this place is the size of a damn castle!” You gestured around the massive entry hall, frustration spilling over. “You’re just gonna leave me here by myself? What if they come for me again? What am I supposed to do then?”

“You won’t be alone,” Charles interjected, his tone measured but polite. He glanced briefly at Logan, as if trying to gauge how much to say. “This house has a number of protections. You’ll be secure here.”

“Secure from who?” you fired back, your eyes darting between the two men. “You all keep throwing words around like ‘safe’ and ‘protected,’ but you won’t tell me from what!”

Logan stepped closer, his voice softening. “Y/N, I know you’ve got questions, and I know this ain’t easy, but trust me. If I thought for a second there was a better way to keep you outta harm’s way, I’d do it.”

You stared at him, trying to ignore the way his voice—the way he called you by name—seemed to ease some of the tension in your chest. But it wasn’t enough. “You always do this,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “You make decisions for me like I’m some fragile little doll. I’m not helpless, Logan.”

“I know that,” he said quickly, his gaze locking onto yours. “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna take chances with you.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, shaking your head. “And where exactly are you going that’s so important you can’t tell me?”

Logan hesitated, his jaw tightening. He glanced at Charles, who gave him a slight nod. “We’ve gotta stop someone,” Logan finally said, his voice low. “Someone who’s about to make a big mistake.”

“That’s it?” you asked, your frustration rising again. “That’s all you’re gonna give me?”

“That’s all you need to know right now,” Logan replied. He reached out, his hand brushing against your arm. “Look, I promise I’ll explain everything when I get back. But for now, I need you to trust me.”

You stared at him, your chest tight with a mix of anger and something softer, something you didn’t want to name. “Fine,” you said at last, pulling away from his touch. “But don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

Logan smirked faintly, though his eyes were serious. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Charles cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Y/N, I understand this is a lot to take in, but I assure you, this is the safest course of action for now. Hank and I will only be gone for a short while.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, glancing at him briefly. “You better be.”

Logan nodded at Charles, then turned back to you. “There’s food in the kitchen, and plenty of space to stretch out. Don’t open the doors for anyone but me or them. Got it?”

You rolled your eyes but nodded. “Got it.”

Logan hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but then he turned and followed Charles and Hank toward the door. You watched them leave, the sound of the heavy door closing echoing in the empty mansion.

For a long moment, you stood in the middle of the entry hall, clutching your bag and trying to process everything that had just happened. Finally, you let out a heavy sigh and slung the bag over your shoulder.

“Guess I’m on my own,” you muttered, heading deeper into the mansion to figure out how the hell you were supposed to pass the time in this massive, empty house.

---

It didn’t take long for you to get bored, even in a place as massive as this. From what you gathered during your first walkthrough, this mansion had likely been a boarding school at some point. The classrooms, rows of bedrooms, and an enormous kitchen all hinted at its past. But now, it was eerily quiet—like a castle frozen in time.

You wandered aimlessly, peeking into rooms and finding nothing but empty desks, dust-covered books, and a growing sense of restlessness. The longer you roamed, the more your mind churned over Logan’s sudden departure. You didn’t want to admit it, but his absence had left a void—a nagging worry that you couldn’t shake.

You sighed, stopping in front of a wide window overlooking the overgrown courtyard. What am I even doing here? you thought. Your fingers tapped against the windowpane as you chewed the inside of your cheek. Maybe you should’ve pushed harder for answers instead of letting Logan sidestep your questions—again.

The faint hum of a clock ticking in the hallway was the only sound accompanying your thoughts. It wasn’t enough to drown out the memories of Logan’s claws unsheathing back at the hotel or the unspoken tension in his voice when he said, “you won’t be alone.”

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, turning away from the window. “Stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing but cryptic warnings and empty rooms.”

You wandered back to the kitchen, hoping to find something to pass the time. The fridge was surprisingly well-stocked, and you made yourself a quick sandwich. As you ate, your gaze drifted toward the doorway, half expecting Logan to stride through it with that familiar scowl on his face.

But the doorway remained empty.

With a groan, you pushed the plate away and leaned back in the chair. “This sucks,” you muttered.

The silence pressed against your ears as you sat there, tapping your fingers on the table. You couldn’t help but think back to Logan’s expression when he’d left. There was something in his eyes—something heavy, like he was carrying more than just the weight of keeping you safe. He always did that, didn’t he? Took on the burden for everyone else, even if it meant shutting you out.

You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. No more sitting around like a damsel in distress, you decided. If Logan was off dealing with whatever ‘big mistake’ he’d mentioned, you’d figure out how to occupy yourself in the meantime.

---

A while later, you found yourself back in one of the old classrooms. The chalkboards were dusty, and the desks were in varying states of disrepair, but it was oddly comforting in a way. You sat down at one of the desks and fiddled with a piece of chalk, drawing random lines on the board in front of you.

The quiet of the mansion felt oppressive. Every creak of the old wood or groan of the structure made your heart skip a beat. You weren’t sure if it was just your imagination playing tricks on you or if there was something more sinister lurking in the silence.

You sighed, leaning back in the chair. “Why’d you leave me here, Logan?” you muttered to yourself. The question hung in the air, unanswered, like so many others he’d dodged over the months.

As you stared at the lines you’d absentmindedly drawn, you thought back to your father. His control over your life had been suffocating, but this—running, hiding, fearing what might come next—was a different kind of prison. Logan had promised to protect you, but how could he if he wasn’t here?

A sudden noise in the hallway snapped you out of your thoughts. You froze, the piece of chalk slipping from your fingers and clattering onto the desk.

“Logan?” you called out, your voice trembling slightly. There was no response.

You rose slowly from the desk, your heart pounding in your chest. The sound came again—closer this time. It wasn’t the creak of the old mansion settling. It was deliberate, like footsteps.

You moved toward the door, peeking into the hallway. It was empty, but the faint sound of movement reached your ears from somewhere deeper in the house.

“Logan?” you tried again, your voice firmer.

Still nothing.

Clutching your jacket sleeve tightly, you stepped into the hallway, your bare feet silent against the worn wooden floors. The air felt colder somehow, and the shadows seemed to stretch longer.

You made your way toward the source of the noise, your pulse quickening with every step. Part of you wanted to turn back, to lock yourself in one of the rooms and wait for Logan to return, but you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right.

As you rounded the corner, you saw them. Men in dark suits, their faces obscured by the dim lighting. There were at least four of them, moving methodically through the mansion as if they knew exactly where to look.

Your breath caught in your throat. They weren’t here by accident.

You turned quickly, intending to retreat and find a place to hide, but it was too late. One of the men spotted you, his sharp eyes locking onto yours.

“She’s here!” he barked, and the others turned toward you immediately.

Panic surged through your veins as you broke into a sprint, your bare feet barely making a sound against the floor. You didn’t know where you were running, only that you had to get away.

“Stop her!” one of them shouted, and the sound of heavy footsteps followed you.

You darted into another hallway, your mind racing. You needed a plan, a way out, but the labyrinthine mansion offered no clear escape routes.

A hand suddenly grabbed your arm, yanking you backward. You let out a startled cry, struggling against the grip.

“Let go of me!” you screamed, kicking and clawing at the man holding you.

He grimaced but held firm, dragging you toward the others. “Stop fighting, or this gets messy,” he growled.

“Like hell it does,” you spat, managing to stomp on his foot hard enough to make him loosen his grip.

You broke free, stumbling forward, but another man was already there. He grabbed you by the waist, lifting you off the ground despite your thrashing.

“Let me go!” you shouted, your voice echoing through the empty halls.

“Enough!” a voice barked, and the men froze.

A figure stepped out of the shadows—an older man with a cold, calculating expression. You recognized him immediately. One of your father’s men.

“Miss Y/N,” he said smoothly, his tone dripping with false politeness. “Your father’s been worried sick about you.”

“Bullshit,” you snapped, glaring at him. “He doesn’t care about me.”

The man chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “Whether he cares or not isn’t really the issue, is it? You belong to him. And he’s decided it’s time you came home.”

“Over my dead body,” you shot back, your voice defiant even as fear coiled in your chest.

The man’s smile widened, and there was something cruel in his eyes. “If that’s what it takes.”

You struggled harder, but the men holding you were too strong. They began dragging you toward the exit, your cries for help swallowed by the vast emptiness of the mansion.

In that moment, a horrible realization settled over you. Logan wasn’t here to save you.

And this time, there was no escape.

---

The room was dim, lit by a single, flickering bulb swaying overhead. The scent of mildew clung to the air, mixing with the metallic tang of rust from the pipes along the walls. You blinked groggily, your head pounding as the events leading up to this moment replayed in your mind.

Interrogation, then murder. That’s how these things went. You knew it, had known it since you were a child sitting quietly at the top of the stairs, listening in on conversations you weren’t supposed to hear. The Romano family didn’t forgive betrayal, and neither did your father.

Your wrists ached where the rough ropes dug into them, tying you to the chair. The metal groaned beneath your weight as you tried to shift, testing the bindings. No give. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.

From the shadows, the men emerged one by one, their faces a mix of familiarity and dread. You recognized some from your father’s estate—men who had once tipped their hats to you out of respect, now staring at you like a wolf pack eyeing its prey. Among them was Clyde Romano, his sharp suit immaculate despite the grim surroundings.

“Well, well,” Clyde drawled, adjusting his cuffs as he stepped closer. His cold eyes gleamed with a mixture of triumph and disdain. “You’ve been a busy little runaway, haven’t you?”

“Fuck you, Clyde,” you spat, your voice steadier than you expected.

He smirked, leaning in until you could feel his breath against your cheek. “Bold words for someone in your position. But that’s always been your problem, hasn’t it? Too much mouth, not enough sense.”

One of the men chuckled darkly, and you shot him a glare sharp enough to cut.

Clyde straightened, motioning for the others to spread out. “See, Y/N, this could’ve all been so simple. You play the good little bride, marry into the family, and keep your mouth shut. But no. You had to run. Had to embarrass your father. And me.”

“Embarrass you?” You barked out a bitter laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were your fragile little feelings hurt because I didn’t want to be your trophy wife?”

Clyde’s smile faltered, his jaw tightening. He nodded toward one of his men, who stepped forward and struck you across the face. Pain exploded along your cheek, sharp and hot.

“Watch your mouth,” Clyde hissed.

You turned your head back slowly, your vision swimming. Blood trickled from the corner of your lip, but you smiled through it, defiant. “That all you’ve got?”

Clyde’s expression darkened, and he stepped closer, gripping your chin roughly. “You’re real brave for someone who doesn’t have a way out.”

Your stomach twisted at the truth of his words, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear in your eyes. “Better to die standing than live on my knees,” you shot back.

“Your boyfriend isn’t here to save you, sweetheart,” he said casually, his tone laced with mockery. “What was his name? Logan?”

Your heart clenched at the sound of his name, but you kept your face blank.

“He left you,” Clyde continued. “Just like everyone else will. Because you’re not worth the trouble.”

“That so?” you bit out. “Then why are you here?”

He stopped, looking over his shoulder with a smirk. “To clean up the mess you made.”

Clyde stepped back, giving a subtle nod to one of the men. The air seemed to thicken as the man pulled a knife from his belt, the blade glinting in the weak light.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t look away. If this was the end, you’d meet it head-on, with your head held high.

“Any last words?” Clyde asked, his tone almost bored.

You swallowed hard, the weight of everything pressing down on you. The memories of Logan’s rough hands holding yours, his gruff voice calling you darlin’ in that way that made your chest ache, his eyes softening in those rare moments when he let his guard down.

You thought of him now—miles away, caught up in something you couldn’t begin to understand. If he were here, he’d fight. He always did. But this time, you were on your own.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “Go to hell.”

Clyde tilted his head, unimpressed. The man with the knife stepped forward, and you clenched your fists, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

The blade gleamed, catching the light one last time before it plunged toward you.

And then, there was only darkness.

---

Logan paced the bedroom; he had known something was off the second they got back. For one, you were nowhere in the mansion and your bag was sitting on the couch in the rec room.

Hank hesitantly stood by the doorframe for a few moments before speaking, “there’s a theory in quantum physics that time is immutable.” Logan paused his pacing as Hank continued, “it’s like a river—you can throw a pebble into it, create a ripple, but the current always corrects itself. No matter what you do, the river just… keeps flowing in the same direction.”

Logan let out a small scoff, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a fleeting smile. “The B-theory of time.”

Hank blinked, his brows furrowing. “You’re familiar with it?”

Logan shrugged, leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed. “Yeah, I’ve heard it before. Someone once tried explaining it to me—something about all moments in time existing simultaneously. Past, present, future, all laid out like pages in a book.” He tilted his head, his gaze hardening. “Didn’t make it sound any less screwed up.”

Hank tilted his head slightly, caught off guard. “That’s a fairly accurate summation, Logan. I’m… surprised you retained that much.”

Logan’s lips twitched again, but his eyes darkened with a tinge of something that looked like regret. “Good teacher,” he muttered, his voice low. His mind flicked back to the quiet hours spent with you in the rec room at the mansion, your voice steady as you explained the theories of time and space with the kind of patience that used to drive him insane. “Good teacher,” he repeated, softer this time.

Hank didn’t press the matter, though curiosity lingered in his expression. Instead, he adjusted his glasses and continued. “Right. Well, the theory suggests that no matter how many changes we attempt to make, the timeline has a way of self-correcting. That ripple you caused? It’ll still flow back into the current, Logan. That’s why it’s imperative you stay focused on the larger mission—on stopping Mystique before—”

Logan cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. “I know, McCoy. Believe me, I get it.” His voice was rougher now, frustration creeping into his tone. “But I can’t just stand here and do nothing. She’s out there—alone—because of me.” His jaw clenched, the muscles tightening like a vice. “I should’ve stayed with her.”

“And then what?” Hank countered, his voice measured but firm. “Thrown yourself headfirst into whatever danger awaits her without a plan? Gotten yourself killed before you even had the chance to stop Mystique? Would that have helped her, Logan? Or anyone else?”

Logan exhaled harshly, raking a hand through his hair. He hated when Hank was right—hated it even more because staying put went against every instinct he had. He’d lost you too many times before, and the idea of it happening again, here in this warped timeline, made his chest feel like it was caught in a vice.

“Look,” Hank said after a pause, his tone softening. “You’re not doing her—or yourself—any favors by acting recklessly. We need you tomorrow at the hearing. Mystique’s actions will set off a chain reaction if we don’t intervene, and that means we need all hands on deck.” He gave Logan a pointed look, then hesitated before adding, “Besides, the Y/N I met didn’t strike me as someone who’d go down without a fight.”

Logan’s gaze snapped to Hank, sharp and unyielding. “What’d you say?”

Hank shifted uncomfortably. “I mean… she was a little out of her element, sure, but she seemed resourceful. Strong-willed. Determined. She’s not just going to sit around waiting to be rescued, Logan.”

Logan’s shoulders relaxed slightly at Hank’s words, though his face remained guarded. He knew you—knew that fire inside you, even in this lifetime. You’d been through hell and still managed to crack that crooked smile, to tease him when he was too gruff for his own good. If anyone could find a way out of a bad situation, it was you.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried sick.

“She’s got guts,” Logan muttered, almost to himself. “Too much, sometimes.”

Hank adjusted his glasses again, watching Logan closely. “Then trust her to hold her own until we can deal with this together. Running off now would be counterproductive and, frankly, reckless.”

Logan let out a low growl of frustration, but he didn’t argue further. Deep down, he knew Hank was right. If he ran out of here now, he’d jeopardize everything—not just the mission, but the fragile thread of hope that had brought him to this point.

Still, the ache in his chest wouldn’t subside. It never did, not when it came to you.

“She’d better be okay,” he muttered, more to himself than to Hank. “Or I’ll—” His voice caught, and he shook his head. “Never mind.”

Hank didn’t respond immediately. He just watched as Logan sank into the chair by the window, his gaze distant.

For now, all Logan could do was wait.

---

Logan woke up to the sun shining through green curtains as he lay on his side, clutching his pillow. He turned over to look at the holographic clock on the other side of the bed, a stack of books on the table along with a single pen.

“The first time, ever I saw your face.”

He sat up, groggy as he looked at the familiar gold doorknob.

“I thought the sun,” Logan stood up and opened the door as a school bell rang and a kid walked out of their room. “Rose in your eyes.” He saw Bobby standing against a door frame as Rogue walked out and grabbed his hand, the two of them glancing over at Logan before walking away.

Logan walked by a classroom where Kitty was at the head of the room, a hologram in her hands, “Buckminster Fuller is a great example of an architect whose ideas were very similar to those of a utopian future. He would build structures that would work with nature, versus against it.”

He looked down the hall as Beast walked past him, clad in a brown suit, “morning, Logan. Late start,” he chuckled, as Logan watched him walk by.

Logan then walked down the stairs, seeing students converse with Storm. He continued his way down the stairs and into the open area, seeing familiar red hair leaning against the Professor’s open door.

Jean turned to look at him, “hey, Logan,” she softly called out as he glanced her way and back down the other hallways.

He saw a group of students walking huddled together before splitting apart briefly as you walked past them.

Logan’s breath hitched as you walked past the group of students, your hair catching the light streaming through the mansion’s tall windows. You didn’t notice him immediately, too focused on the stack of papers in your arms and the pen tucked behind your ear. He froze in place, his heart pounding like it hadn’t in years—decades, even.

You glanced up just as you passed him, pausing mid-step when your eyes met his. There was warmth in your gaze, that familiar spark he’d seen so many lifetimes ago, but this time it wasn’t tinged with hesitation or confusion. It was easy. Natural.

“There you are,” you said, a small smile gracing your lips as you adjusted the papers in your arms. “I was about to come looking for you. Late morning?”

Logan stared at you for a beat too long, the sound of your voice wrapping around him like a long-lost melody. He blinked, clearing his throat and trying to push past the lump that had formed there. “Yeah... guess so.”

Your smile widened, though your brow furrowed just slightly. “You okay, Lo?” you asked softly, stepping closer.

He managed a nod, though his throat felt tight. “Yeah, just... uh, still waking up, I guess.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him in that way you always used to when something seemed off. “Well, if you’re awake enough, maybe you could help me wrangle some of the kids for class?” You gestured toward the papers in your arms. “I need to grab a few more things, and Laura’s been trying to skip out on physics again. You didn’t even budge when the alarm went off this morning, but you’re lucky Scott owed you a favor, so he covered your history class—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence when Logan’s arms wrapped around you, his hold firm but not crushing. His head burrowed into the crook of your neck, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to pause. You blinked, startled, the stack of papers in your arms wobbling precariously before you instinctively steadied them against your chest.

“Logan?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with concern and confusion. “What’s going on?”

He didn’t answer right away. His breathing was heavy, his body tense against yours as though he was clinging to something—or someone—he thought he’d lost. The warmth of his presence, his scent of leather and pine, was familiar, but this intensity was new.

You let the silence hang for a moment, your free hand instinctively lifting to rest on his shoulder. “Lo,” you tried again, your tone softer now, laced with the kind of patience that only years together had nurtured. “Talk to me.”

Logan pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, but his hands remained firm on your waist. His eyes were wild, scanning your face like he was searching for proof that you were real. For a fleeting second, you caught something raw in his expression—something vulnerable.

“You’re here,” he muttered, almost to himself. His voice was hoarse, as though he hadn’t spoken in days. “You’re… really here.”

Your brows knitted together as you tilted your head, trying to piece together what could have possibly spurred this reaction. “Of course I’m here,” you said with a small, hesitant laugh, your hand sliding from his shoulder to his cheek. “Where else would I be?”

Before Logan could respond, the unmistakable sound of small, hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. A high-pitched voice followed, cutting through the moment like a pebble skipping across still water.

“Daddy!”

Logan froze. His hands fell away from your waist as a little girl with dark hair barreled toward the two of you, her pigtails bouncing with each step. She clung to Logan’s leg without hesitation, looking up at him with the wide, innocent eyes of someone who knew no fear or doubt.

Gabby.

The name surfaced in Logan’s mind like a fragment from a dream, though it came with no context—no memories to anchor it. He stared down at the child, his breath catching as she grinned up at him.

“Daddy, I found you!” she declared triumphantly, like it was a great accomplishment. “Laura said you were being slow again.”

You chuckled softly, crouching down to ruffle Gabby’s hair. “What did we say about calling your dad slow?” you teased gently, though there was no real reprimand in your tone.

Gabby giggled, leaning into your touch. “Only when it’s funny?”

“Exactly,” you replied with a smirk before standing again and glancing at Logan, who still hadn’t moved or spoken. “Lo, you okay?” you asked again, your concern deepening.

Logan’s gaze flicked between you and Gabby, his chest tightening. The ring on your finger caught the light as you moved, and for the first time, he noticed it—the familiar band of gold he’d carried for over a century.

His heart stuttered. You’re wearing it.

“Logan?” you pressed, stepping closer again. Gabby, still holding onto his leg, tilted her head in confusion.

Logan swallowed hard, forcing himself to push past the whirlwind in his mind. “Yeah,” he rasped, his voice strained but steady enough. “I’m fine.”

You didn’t look convinced, but you didn’t push him. Instead, you nodded toward the stack of papers in your arms. “You sure? Because if you’re about to have an existential crisis, I need you to hold off until after you help me track down Laura. Deal?”

Logan blinked, your teasing tone pulling him out of his daze. He managed a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Deal.”

Gabby tugged at his pant leg, her face scrunched in determination. “Daddy, can we get pancakes after? Laura said she’d eat ten, but I bet I could eat twelve.”

You snorted softly, looking between Gabby and Logan with an amused smile. “You’re not actually gonna let her eat twelve pancakes, are you?”

Logan’s lips twitched, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’ll see,” he said gruffly, his mind still miles away as he tried to make sense of everything.

You gave him another look, your brows furrowing slightly, but you let it go for now. “Come on,” you said, shifting the papers in your arms. “Let’s get this day started.”

As you turned to lead Gabby toward the stairs, Logan lingered for a moment, his eyes fixed on the gold band on your finger. His thoughts churned, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like a heavy fog.

He needed answers. And he knew exactly who to talk to.

---

Logan pushed open the door to Charles’s office without knocking, his usual roughness softened just enough by the turmoil bubbling beneath his skin. Charles, sitting calmly at his desk with his hands folded, looked up with a raised brow.

“Logan,” Charles greeted, his tone patient but curious. “I wasn’t expecting you so early. Is everything alright?”

Logan stepped inside, closing the door behind him before glancing over his shoulder. He needed to make sure you hadn’t followed. When he was satisfied, he turned back to Charles, his jaw tightening.

“No,” Logan said simply. “We need to talk. Now.”

Charles’s brow furrowed, and he gestured to the chair in front of him. “Please, sit. Tell me what’s troubling you.”

Logan ignored the chair, pacing instead. “I woke up this morning, and I—” He dragged a hand down his face, struggling to find the words. “Chuck, I ain’t supposed to be here. This… this timeline, it ain’t mine.”

Charles’s expression shifted, his calm demeanor replaced with something more serious. “I see,” he said carefully. “Go on.”

“You remember what Kitty did,” Logan said, stopping to lean on the edge of the desk. “Sending my mind back to ’73, to fix everything. To stop the Sentinels.”

“Yes,” Charles replied, his voice steady. “And you succeeded, Logan. The world you’re in now is a result of that success.”

Logan’s laugh was bitter, shaking his head. “Then why the hell don’t I remember it, huh? Why do I remember… all of it? The Sentinels. The Phoenix. Y/N—” His voice cracked, and he looked away, his fists clenching. “She died, Chuck. In my timeline, she died. Jean, too. All of you.”

Charles regarded him quietly, his hands still folded. “Logan, the mind is a complicated thing. It’s possible that in the process of returning you to this point in time, fragments of your original timeline have remained intact.”

“Fragments?” Logan scoffed, pushing off the desk to pace again. “Chuck, this ain’t fragments. I remember it all. I remember her dying six times, dammit. I remember the look on her face when she—” He stopped himself, his breathing ragged.

Charles’s expression softened. “Logan, this is your life now. Whatever timeline you came from, whatever you remember, it’s in the past. This is your reality now. Y/N is alive. Jean is alive. You have a family, a home.”

Logan’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “Yeah, but it ain’t mine. This ring—” He held up his own hand with his own ring, the band of gold catching the light. “I didn’t put it on her finger, Chuck. Some other version of me did. And I don’t know how to be him.”

Charles leaned forward slightly, his voice gentle but firm. “Then perhaps it’s time you learned. For her. For your family.”

Logan stared at him, his chest tight. He wanted to argue, to push back, but the truth of Charles’s words settled heavy in his gut. He’d fought so hard to change the future, to make sure you and everyone else had a chance at a better life. Now that it was here, he didn’t know how to live in it.

He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling shakily. “What do I do, Chuck?”

Charles smiled faintly. “You take it one day at a time, Logan. And you start by going back to her.”

---

You stood in the Professor’s office, your arms crossed, the faint cherry gloss on your lips catching the sunlight through the large windows. You tilted your head slightly, studying Logan as he leaned against the desk, his expression unreadable but tense.

“So…” you began, your voice soft but steady, “you’re from a different timeline? One where none of this happened?”

Logan exhaled heavily, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Yeah, sweetheart. That’s about the size of it.”

Your gaze flicked between him and Charles, who sat calmly behind his desk, his hands folded in front of him. “And in that timeline…” you hesitated, your voice faltering slightly. “What happened to me?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his eyes briefly darting away from yours before he forced himself to meet your gaze. The weight of his memories hung between you, unspoken but palpable.

“You didn’t make it,” he admitted, his voice low and gravelly.

The room felt colder, the air heavier as his words settled over you. You shifted slightly, gripping your own arms as if to steady yourself.

“But not this time,” Charles interjected gently, his calm voice breaking the silence. “This timeline is different, Y/N. You survived, as did many others who didn’t in Logan’s original timeline.”

You turned to Charles, your brow furrowing. “How? How is that even possible? Timelines aren’t just malleable—”

“They are when someone like Kitty Pryde is involved,” Charles replied, his tone steady but kind. “Logan changed the future, which altered the past. But it seems his mind retained the memories of his original timeline when he was brought back.”

You looked at Logan, your head spinning as you tried to wrap your mind around what they were telling you. “So… you’re saying that everything I remember—all the years we’ve been together, raising Gabby and Laura—they’re real, but to you, they’re…”

“New,” Logan finished for you. He pushed off the desk, his hands going to his hips as he paced the room. “To me, darlin’, this—” he gestured vaguely at the mansion around him, “—this is all brand new. The last thing I remember before waking up this morning was bein’ in 1973, tryin’ to stop Mystique from killin’ Trask.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. The Logan standing before you was so familiar, yet so… not. He was the same man you’d spent decades with, and yet he wasn’t.

“You’re still you,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan stopped pacing, turning to look at you. His gaze softened slightly, the hard edges of his frustration melting away. “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Still me.”

“But you don’t remember Gabby or Laura,” you said, a pang of sadness creeping into your voice. “You don’t remember us.”

Logan’s expression twisted with guilt. “No, sweetheart,” he admitted. “Not the way I should. But I’m tryin’. I swear to you, I’m gonna figure this out.”

You stepped closer to him, your glasses sliding slightly down your nose as you looked up into his eyes. “You’re not alone in this, Logan,” you said softly. “We’ll figure it out together.”

He stared at you, his throat tightening at the unwavering trust in your eyes. Slowly, he reached out, his large hand brushing against yours before taking it fully. “Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice rough but sincere.

Charles cleared his throat gently, drawing your attention. “The bond you two share has persisted across lifetimes,” he said. “It is not surprising that it remains strong, even now.”

You glanced back at Logan, your fingers still entwined with his. “I guess it’s just one more thing we’ve survived together,” you said with a faint smile.

Logan’s lips quirked upward, just barely. “Yeah,” he said. “Guess so.”

But as the three of you stood there, Logan couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a much bigger challenge. For now, though, he let himself hold onto your hand, grounding himself in the one constant he’d always known: you.

---

Laura stared across the table at Logan, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of his face as if she were trying to find something different, something off. Meanwhile, Gabby’s bright voice filled the dining room.

“And then, they just grow back their limbs! Like, if an axolotl loses a leg or even its tail, it’s all, poof! Fixed!” Gabby made an exaggerated explosion motion with her hands, her fork clattering against her plate. “Isn’t that cool, Daddy?”

Logan blinked, dragging himself out of his thoughts. “Uh, yeah, kid. Real cool.” His voice was gruff but softer than usual as he glanced at her. Gabby beamed, apparently satisfied with his half-hearted response, and took another bite of her pancake.

“Dad doesn’t even know what an axolotl is,” Laura said flatly, her gaze never leaving him.

Gabby gasped, scandalized. “Laura! Of course he does! He’s Daddy! He knows everything!”

Logan scratched the back of his neck, an awkward chuckle slipping out. “Well, I wouldn’t say everything…”

Laura narrowed her eyes slightly, leaning back in her chair. “You’re acting weird.”

“Laura,” you said gently, walking into the room with a cup of coffee in hand. You leaned against the doorway, your glasses slipping down your nose just a touch as you looked at your daughter. “Be nice.”

“She’s not wrong,” Logan muttered under his breath, but you caught it and shot him a warning look.

Laura crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed. “He didn’t even laugh at Gabby’s joke about Mom’s coffee yesterday. That’s how you know something’s wrong.”

You hid your smile behind your mug. “To be fair, it wasn’t a great joke, Gabby.”

“It was hilarious!” Gabby protested, slapping her hands on the table for emphasis.

“Sure, sweetie,” you said with a chuckle, walking over to Logan. Your hand found his shoulder as you leaned down slightly. “Why don’t you two finish breakfast? We’ll be right back.”

Logan shot you a look but didn’t argue as you guided him out of the room, your hand lingering on his arm for a moment before you let go. You didn’t stop until you were in the hallway, far enough from the dining room that the girls couldn’t hear you.

“You’re gonna have to stop looking like a deer in headlights every time Gabby says something,” you said quietly, your tone soft but firm. “She’s going to figure it out if you keep that up.”

Logan let out a long sigh, leaning against the wall. “I’m tryin’, sweetheart. It’s just…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

“Overwhelming?” you finished for him.

“Yeah. That.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes meeting yours. “I don’t know how to do this. Any of this. I don’t remember gettin’ married or havin’ kids. And now, I’ve got a eleven-year-old givin’ me the third degree and a five-year-old who thinks I hung the moon.”

“They’re your daughters, Logan,” you said softly. “And they adore you. Just… be yourself. You’ve always been a good dad to them. That hasn’t changed.”

Logan looked at you, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and determination. “And you?”

“What about me?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

“How do I do right by you?” His voice was low, the vulnerability in it catching you off guard.

You stepped closer, your hand brushing his. “You’re already doin’ it,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll figure this out together. Just like we always do.”

He let out a low huff, leaning his side against the wall, “well, if I have to hear one more word about an axolotl and their gills, I might lose it.”

You leaned into the wall, mimicking Logan’s stance, your lips twitching upward as you adjusted your glasses. “Actually, axolotls have both gills and lungs, so they can breathe underwater and directly from the air. But they rely on their gills more than their lungs because they’re primarily aquatic. Oh, and their gills are those frilly things you see sticking out of their necks—external gills, which are super rare in vertebrates…”

Logan’s eyebrows rose slowly, and a wry grin began to tug at the corner of his mouth as your words spilled out faster than you seemed to realize.

“And did you know,” you continued, your voice picking up slightly as you adjusted your glasses again, “they stay in a juvenile state their whole lives? It’s called neoteny, and—”

Logan finally let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, darlin’, I get it. You’re where Gabby gets it from.”

You paused mid-ramble, your brow furrowing as you looked up at him. “Gets what?”

“The whole talk a mile a minute about stuff that makes the rest of us feel like idiots thing,” he teased, his tone gruff but warm. “She starts goin’ on about somethin’, an’ it’s like watchin’ a little tornado of facts. Now I know where she gets it.”

Your cheeks flushed slightly, a mix of amusement and bashfulness flashing across your face. “I don’t talk that much.”

Logan arched a brow, his grin widening just a touch. “Sure, sweetheart. Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

You huffed, pushing lightly against his chest with the back of your hand, though your lips tugged into a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you’re still stuck with me,” he teased, his tone laced with an unexpected softness.

For a moment, you both stood there in the hallway, the din of breakfast chatter echoing faintly behind the door. Logan’s eyes lingered on you, the faint cherry gloss on your lips catching his attention again as sunlight streamed in through the nearby window.

“I really mean it, darlin’,” Logan said after a beat, his voice dipping into something deeper. “You’ve got no idea how much I appreciate you holdin’ this together. All this…” He gestured vaguely, his expression faltering for a second. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Your smile softened, and you reached for his hand instinctively. “We’ve been through worse, Logan. Together. We always find a way.”

Logan’s gaze dropped to your intertwined hands, the touch grounding him. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Always.”

Before the moment could settle further, Scott and Jean walked past the two of you, entering the kitchen. You grabbed Logan’s hand, “c’mon, I want you to see somethin’.”

You pulled Logan to the doorway of the kitchen, motioning for him to stay quiet. His brow furrowed, but he didn’t resist as he leaned slightly into the frame beside you, peeking into the room. Scott was at the counter, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee, while Jean stood nearby, polishing an apple against her sleeve.

“Why are we standin’ here like—” Logan began, but you held up a finger to shush him.

“Wait for it,” you murmured, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

From behind the island, Gabby and Laura crouched in near-perfect silence. Gabby’s face was alight with glee as Laura whispered instructions, holding a small device that looked suspiciously like something Jones might have helped them cobble together.

Logan squinted. “What the hell are they—”

“Shh!” you hissed, suppressing a grin as Laura pressed a button on the device.

The coffee maker on the counter suddenly sputtered and hissed, steam pouring out in dramatic bursts as it began to shake. Scott froze mid-sip, frowning at the machine.

“What the—” Scott leaned in cautiously, placing his mug down.

With a loud pop, a stream of glitter shot out from the coffee maker, spraying directly onto Scott’s chest and face. His entire upper body sparkled in gold and silver flecks as he stumbled back, coughing in surprise.

Gabby popped up from behind the counter, arms thrown in the air triumphantly. “Success!”

Laura stood beside her, a small, satisfied smirk tugging at her lips. “Glitter bomb: 100% effective.”

Logan stared, wide-eyed, as Scott wiped at his face in a futile attempt to rid himself of the glitter. “Girls,” Scott said, his voice low and measured in a tone that suggested he was summoning all of his patience, “what did I say about tamperin’ with the coffee maker?”

Gabby, undeterred, pointed at him dramatically. “You said don’t do it. But you never said we couldn’t improve it.”

Jean bit into her apple, turning slightly away to hide her laughter behind a hand.

“You let them do this?” Scott asked, glaring at her.

“I let them? Scott, they’re your nieces,” Jean said smoothly, not bothering to hide the amusement in her tone.

“They’re your nieces too!” Scott protested, but Jean just shrugged, taking another bite of her apple.

Logan let out a low chuckle beside you, shaking his head. “They’re somethin’ else.”

You grinned, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “They’re just like you.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know exactly what it means,” you teased. “You’re as much of a troublemaker as they are. Don’t think I haven’t seen the pranks you’ve pulled.”

“Pranks? Me?” Logan’s expression feigned innocence, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Right,” you drawled, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve just coincidentally passed on all your mischief genes to Laura and Gabby?”

Logan let out a soft laugh, his gaze flicking back to the kitchen where Gabby was now dancing around Scott, singing, “Uncle Scott is the glitter king!” at the top of her lungs.

Laura crossed her arms, clearly pleased with her handiwork. “Don’t worry. It’s biodegradable glitter,” she said in a tone that suggested she didn’t actually care about Scott’s glitter predicament but wanted to seem magnanimous.

Scott groaned, his voice rising in frustration. “You two better clean this up. And my shirt. And my—” He gestured vaguely at his glitter-covered face.

Gabby giggled. “Sure, Uncle Scott. Right after breakfast.”

Scott turned to Jean for backup, but she just shrugged again. “You’ll be fine, Scott. You’ve been through worse.”

“Not worse than this,” Scott muttered darkly, picking at a gold fleck on his visor.

You stifled another laugh as Logan crossed his arms, watching the scene unfold with an almost paternal fondness. “They really only prank Summers?”

You nodded, grinning. “Every time. Jean’s always off-limits, but Scott? Fair game. Laura says it builds his character.”

Logan shook his head, still smiling. “Kid’s got my sense of humor, all right.”

“See?” you said, leaning closer to him. “They’re just like you.”

Logan glanced down at you, his expression softening as his gaze lingered. “Guess I’ve got a lot to live up to, huh?”

“You already do,” you said quietly, your hand brushing against his. “More than you know.”

Before Logan could respond, Gabby’s excited voice interrupted. “Mommy! Daddy! Did you see? Uncle Scott’s a walking disco ball!”

You turned just as Gabby bolted toward you both, her small arms outstretched. Logan instinctively crouched to catch her as she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Did you like it, Daddy?” Gabby asked, her face bright with anticipation.

Logan hesitated, his arms tightening slightly around her as he glanced at you for guidance. You smiled, nodding almost imperceptibly.

“Yeah, kid,” Logan said finally, his voice gruff but warm. “You got him good.”

Gabby beamed, hugging him tighter before pulling back to look at him. “Laura says we should do water balloons next time. But I think paint bombs would be cooler.”

Logan chuckled, standing with her still in his arms. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Gabby.”

Gabby laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder. You watched the two of them, your chest tightening at the sight of Logan holding her so naturally, even if his memories of her weren’t there yet.

Logan caught your eye, his expression unreadable but intense, as if he were trying to piece together the life he couldn’t remember but was already a part of.

For now, you just smiled, stepping closer to place a hand on his arm. “Come on,” you said softly. “Let’s get back in there before Scott recruits you to clean up his glitter.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, his grip on Gabby firm as he followed you back into the kitchen, the warmth of the moment settling around the three of you like a quiet promise.

---

Jean sighed and stepped away, her hands falling from Logan’s temples as she crossed her arms. “I’m sorry, Logan. There’s not much else I can do.”

Logan remained seated, his elbows resting on his knees as his hands clenched together. “So, that’s it? Nothin’? Not even a flicker?”

Jean’s expression softened, but there was a hint of frustration in her voice, more directed at herself than him. “You’ve got a wall in your mind, Logan. One I can’t break through without risking your memories now. If I push too hard, I could do more harm than good.”

He let out a low growl, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Feels like I’m livin’ someone else’s life. Like it ain’t mine.”

“You are living your life,” Jean insisted gently. “This is you. You’re just missing… the journey that got you here.”

Logan ran a hand down his face, leaning back in the chair. His gaze drifted to the floor, but his thoughts were miles away. He could feel the weight of everything—the ring on your hand, the way Gabby called him ‘daddy,’ Laura’s quiet smirk when she saw him, the way you looked at him with such love and familiarity. It wasn’t foreign; it was right. But it was also wrong because he didn’t remember any of it.

Jean knelt beside him, her voice quieter now. “You’ve built something beautiful here, Logan. Something you fought for, even if you can’t remember how. Maybe instead of chasing what’s missing, you should try to live in what’s here.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his mind battling with itself. Before he could respond, a voice broke the heavy silence.

“Logan?” Your voice was soft but steady from the doorway.

His head snapped up, and for a moment, the tension in his shoulders eased. “Hey, darlin’.”

Jean rose, excusing herself with a subtle nod toward you. As she passed, she gave your arm a gentle squeeze, her own way of offering support, before disappearing down the hall.

You stepped inside, watching Logan closely as you approached. “How are you feeling?”

“Like my head’s been through the ringer,” he muttered, trying to muster a smirk but failing. “Jean couldn’t find much.”

You perched on the arm of the chair, your hand instinctively reaching for his shoulder. “It’s okay,” you said softly, your thumb tracing small circles over his flannel. “You don’t have to remember everything all at once.”

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “That’s just it. I don’t remember any of it—marryin’ you, findin’ Laura, havin’ Gabby. None of it’s mine.”

Your heart ached at the rawness in his voice, but you squeezed his shoulder gently. “It is yours. Maybe not in the way you think, but it’s yours, Logan. We’re yours.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes darker, clouded with something you couldn’t quite name. “You’re takin’ this awful well.”

You smiled faintly, brushing a stray curl away from his forehead. “I told you when we got married, remember? That no matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t remember that, either,” he admitted gruffly, though there was a flicker of warmth in his voice.

“Well,” you teased lightly, trying to ease the tension, “lucky for you, I do.”

Logan’s hand came up, his fingers brushing against yours where they rested on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but the weight of his grip spoke volumes.

You brought him into your side, his head resting below your collarbone on your chest, and a small, bittersweet smile crept onto your lips. “It’s kinda ironic if you think about it.”

Logan’s voice was muffled against you, but there was a familiar gruffness to it. “What is?”

“This,” you said softly, one hand brushing through his hair while the other traced idle circles on his shoulder. “You remember all those lives I don’t, and now we’re here, and I’m the one who remembers… but you don’t.”

Logan let out a humorless chuckle, his arms tightening around your waist. “Yeah, darlin’, real funny.”

“Ironic,” you corrected, the corner of your mouth twitching upward, though the ache in your chest lingered. “Not funny.”

Logan exhaled deeply, his breath warm against your collarbone. “Guess I deserve that, huh? All those times, I remembered you, and now you’re stuck rememberin’ for me.”

You stilled your hand for a moment, then leaned back just enough to make him look at you. His eyes were darker than usual, shadowed with frustration and something deeper you couldn’t name. “You don’t deserve this, Logan,” you said firmly. “Don’t ever think that.”

He searched your face, his jaw tightening as he swallowed hard. “Feels like I do,” he murmured. “Every time I’ve lost you… it’s been my fault somehow. Every damn time. And now—” He cut himself off, shaking his head as though trying to dislodge the thought.

“And now,” you said, finishing for him, “you haven’t lost me.”

Logan’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing unconsciously over the fabric of your shirt where his hand rested on your waist. “Not yet.”

“Not at all,” you said, your voice steady. “You’ve got me, Logan. I’m right here.”

His lips twitched, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “For now.”

You sighed, cupping his cheek and guiding his gaze back to yours when it started to drift. “Logan. Stop. We’ve been married for nearly twenty years. I know this is… a lot. It’s a lot for me, too. But you don’t have to figure it all out today, or tomorrow, or even next week.”

He huffed a small laugh, his hand moving to rest over yours. “You always this patient?”

“Only with you,” you teased gently, though the warmth in your voice was genuine. “So don’t make me regret it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, and for a moment, his smirk was almost real.

You smiled back, letting the silence settle for a few beats before Logan’s arms tightened around you again, pulling you closer. His head rested against your chest, his body warm and solid against yours, and for a moment, you just held him.

---

Footsteps thundered across the broken ground, and then he was there. Logan dropped to his knees beside you, his hands immediately reaching for you, shaking you gently but urgently. “Sweetheart, no, no—open your eyes,” he pleaded, his voice cracking as his hands moved from your face to your shoulders, searching for signs of life.

Your body was limp in his arms, your chest still, your face losing color.

Logan’s breaths came in short, harsh gasps as he pulled you against him, cradling you like you might slip away entirely if he let go. “Y/N,” he whispered, the single word a broken prayer, an unbearable weight of grief choking him. His hands shook as they smoothed over your hair, as though trying to coax you back to him with touch alone.

He didn’t notice Ororo land nearby, didn’t register her sharp intake of breath as she took in the scene. Her hand came up to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror, but she didn’t approach. Behind her, Bobby and Kitty stood frozen, their expressions stricken, but they too stayed back. Even Peter, with his usual strength and calm, had no words.

Logan didn’t care that they were there. Didn’t care about anything except the motionless weight in his arms. He rocked you slightly, his forehead pressing against yours as his ragged breaths turned into choked sobs. “You weren’t supposed to—damn it, you weren’t supposed to do this,” he growled, his voice breaking as he fought against the tears burning in his eyes. “Not this time. Not again.”

Logan pressed his lips to your forehead, his hands shaking as they cupped your face. “Come on, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice soft and cracked. “You’re stronger than this. You’re too stubborn to leave me. Just—just come back.”

The others stood frozen, unable to move, unable to interrupt the devastating scene unfolding before them. Ororo’s hand clutched her chest, tears streaking down her face as she turned away, giving Logan what little privacy she could in this moment of unbearable pain.

But Logan didn’t notice. He couldn’t notice. His world had narrowed to you—the unbearable stillness of your body, the haunting silence that surrounded you now.

He didn’t let go, even as the destruction around them finally began to settle, the last vestiges of Jean’s power fading into nothingness. His arms tightened around you, his forehead pressing to yours again as he whispered brokenly, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save you. I’m so damn sorry.”

Time seemed to stand still in the worst possible way. For the first time in his long, painful life, Logan felt completely and utterly powerless. The ring he’d carried for over a century burned like a brand against his chest, a cruel reminder of all the promises he’d never been able to keep.

Logan buried his face against your neck, his voice raw as he whispered, “I was gonna tell you. About the ring. About everything. You—you deserved to know.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, as if he could will the life back into you.

He pulled back, his tear-streaked face contorted in anguish as he gazed down at you. “I love you,” he said, his voice breaking on every syllable. “I’ve loved you through every lifetime, and I’ll love you in the next one, too. But please, sweetheart, don’t make me wait again. Not this time. Please.”

His hands trembled as he touched your cheek again, his thumb brushing over your skin like it might bring you back. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice hoarse. “I’ll always love you.”

But you didn’t move. Your chest didn’t rise. You were gone.

Logan’s breath hitched as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead—one last desperate, lingering moment of tenderness. When he pulled back, his gaze swept over your still features, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and devastation.

Behind him, Ororo, Bobby, Kitty, and Peter stood at a distance, their faces drawn with grief. None of them moved to intervene. They knew better than to intrude on this moment, on Logan’s anguish.

The air felt impossibly heavy as Logan shifted, gathering your lifeless form into his arms. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though handling something too precious to break further. He cradled you close, his head bowing as he let out a shuddering breath. The others watched as he rose to his feet, every muscle in his body screaming in protest, though he showed no sign of it.

“Logan…” Ororo began softly, stepping forward.

He didn’t acknowledge her. His eyes were locked on you, his focus unwavering. Without a word, he turned away, carrying you toward the bridge. There was no Blackbird to take them home—Jean’s power had obliterated it along with so much else—but Logan didn’t seem to care about the logistics. His only concern was you.

---

Logan jerked awake, gasping, his body tense and drenched in cold sweat. The dim light of the bedroom barely illuminated his surroundings, but he didn’t need it to know where he was. The warmth beside him, the faint scent of your cherry lip gloss lingering in the air—those were enough to remind him. This was 2023. You were alive.

He turned his head to look at you, his breathing still uneven. You were curled on your side, your glasses resting on the nightstand, your hand loosely clutching the blanket. Peaceful. Alive.

“Logan?” your voice, soft and drowsy, broke the silence. You stirred, sensing his distress even in your half-asleep state. “What’s wrong?”

He swallowed hard, running a hand down his face. “Nothin’, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice rough and unconvincing. “Go back to sleep.”

But you sat up anyway, your hair slightly mussed, your gaze focusing on him even without your glasses. “You had another nightmare, didn’t you?” You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Was it… bad?”

Logan closed his eyes, exhaling shakily. He wanted to lie, to brush it off and tell you he was fine, but the weight of the memory still clung to him like a shadow he couldn’t shake. “Yeah,” he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Without hesitation, you slid closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. “It’s okay,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder. “I’m here.”

His body stiffened at first, the vulnerability of the moment making his instincts scream to pull away, but then he let out a shaky breath and folded you into his arms. The solid warmth of you against him—the weight of your presence—was like a lifeline, anchoring him back to the present.

“I dreamed about… losin’ you,” he said after a long moment, his voice low and raw. “It—it was like I could feel it happenin’ all over again.”

Your heart ached at the pain in his tone, but you didn’t pull back. Instead, you tightened your hold on him, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “You didn’t lose me,” you whispered. “I’m right here, Logan.”

His arms tightened around you as though he needed to remind himself you were real. After a few moments, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching your face like he was memorizing every detail. His hands came up to frame your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“I gotta hold you,” he said, his voice gruff but almost pleading. “Just let me—” His words faltered, and he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was desperate yet tender, like he was pouring all the fear and love in his heart into the connection.

You kissed him back without hesitation, your hands resting on his chest. But when he pulled back only to kiss you again—this time slower, deeper—you pulled away slightly, just enough to catch your breath. “Logan,” you murmured, your voice gentle, “are you sure you’re okay?”

His forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “Just lemme kiss you, please,” he said softly, his voice almost breaking. “Need to feel you. Need to know you’re here.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you nodded, your hands sliding up to cup his face. “I’m here,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his again, reassuring him with every touch that you weren’t going anywhere.

Time seemed to stop as you stayed like that, locked in the quiet intimacy of the moment. His hands moved to your waist, holding you securely, while yours stayed on his face, grounding him. Eventually, you pulled back, your noses brushing, your breaths mingling.

“You wanna talk about it?” you asked softly, your fingers tracing soothing patterns along his jawline.

Logan hesitated, his eyes flickering with something raw and unspoken. “Not yet,” he admitted, his voice thick. “Just… don’t leave me tonight, darlin’.”

You shook your head, offering him a soft smile despite the emotion welling in your chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, wrapping your arms around him again.

---

The Blackbird hummed steadily, the low vibration underscoring the tense silence among the team. You glanced toward Logan, his expression hard and unreadable as he stared out the small window. He hadn’t said much since takeoff, and you didn’t push him. Instead, you’d focused on Jean, who was reviewing the mission details, and Scott, who’d been unusually quiet.

“I can handle this,” Logan had said when you vouched for him earlier. You hadn’t doubted him then, and you didn’t now. But Scott’s skepticism hung heavy in the cabin, evident in every glance he shot Logan’s way.

You let out a soft breath and shifted in your seat, nudging Logan’s arm with your elbow. “Hey,” you said quietly, leaning in. “You good?”

Logan turned his head, his eyes meeting yours for a moment. He nodded, though his jaw stayed tight. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m fine.”

You didn’t buy it, but you let it go. For now.

Scott’s voice cut through the tension. “We’re approaching the drop zone. Everyone stay sharp. This should be quick, but let’s not get sloppy.”

“Sloppy?” Logan muttered under his breath. “We don’t do sloppy.”

Scott shot him a look from the cockpit but didn’t respond, and you bit back a small smile despite the nerves fluttering in your chest.

---

The mission was supposed to be simple. Extract intel, neutralize threats, and get out. But as usual, things didn’t go as planned.

The team moved as a unit through the labyrinthine corridors of the facility, the dim lighting casting long shadows that danced with every flicker of movement. Logan was at the front, claws out, his senses leading the way. You stayed close, your focus split between him and the others.

“Jean, you got eyes on the server room?” Scott’s voice crackled through the comms.

“About twenty meters ahead,” Jean replied, her voice calm despite the rising tension.

Logan’s claws retracted with a snikt as he held up a hand, signaling everyone to stop. His nose twitched, and his head tilted slightly. “Something’s off,” he murmured, his voice low.

Before anyone could ask what, the ground beneath your feet rumbled, and the corridor ahead exploded in a burst of heat and light. You stumbled back, shielding your face, as alarms blared throughout the facility.

“Damn it!” Scott barked. “It’s a trap!”

Logan was already moving, his claws gleaming as he launched himself toward the first wave of attackers. “Get to the server room!” he shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll clear the way!”

“Logan, wait—” But he was gone, a blur of fury and precision as he tore through the enemy.

You exchanged a quick glance with Jean and Ororo before taking off in the opposite direction with them. The mission had gone sideways, but there was no time to panic. Focus was key.

---

You weren’t sure how long it had been—minutes? Hours? The battle had stretched into chaos, and every step felt like a fight to stay alive. You found yourself separated from the others, the air thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood.

Your powers buzzed beneath your skin, a familiar warning. You’d been careful not to overuse them, knowing the toll it took, but the situation left you little choice. Cornered by a group of heavily armed soldiers, you raised your hands, time itself seeming to shudder as you concentrated.

The soldiers froze mid-step, their weapons hanging suspended in the air. Sweat beaded on your forehead as you pushed harder, distorting the flow of time around you. The strain was immediate, your body protesting as you manipulated the anomaly.

“Y/N!” Logan’s voice cut through the haze, rough and urgent. He appeared out of the smoke, his claws dripping red. His eyes widened when he saw you, the flickering distortion around you making it clear you were at your limit.

“I’m fine,” you said, though your voice was strained. “Go help the others.”

“Like hell,” Logan growled, rushing to your side. His hand gripped your arm firmly but gently. “Stop this. You’re gonna tear yourself apart.”

“I can handle it,” you insisted, though your knees buckled slightly under the weight of your own power.

Logan didn’t argue. Instead, he scooped you up with a gentleness that belied his strength, cradling you against his chest. The anomaly wavered, then shattered, the soldiers collapsing as time resumed. But the damage was done.

As the world around you stabilized, you felt a strange, disorienting pull in your mind—like something had snapped and splintered all at once.

Logan froze mid-step, a strangled noise escaping his throat. His grip on you tightened as his body went rigid, his breathing shallow and erratic.

“Logan?” you murmured, your voice weak. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His eyes darted wildly as memories surged through his mind—memories that didn’t belong to the man he’d been moments ago.

A wedding. Your smile, brighter than the sun, as you held his hands. The weight of the gold ring he’d finally placed on your finger after lifetimes of waiting.

Laughter. Laura’s tiny hands clutching his shirt as he carried her on his shoulders, her giggles echoing through the halls of the mansion. Gabby’s wide grin as she showed him a picture she’d drawn of the four of you—her family.

Peace. The quiet nights on the porch, your head resting on his shoulder as the stars twinkled overhead.

Love.

A life.

A family.

Logan stumbled, dropping to his knees as the memories overwhelmed him. They were vivid and unrelenting, a rush of emotion and experience that left him gasping for air.

Your hands trembled as you knelt beside Logan, panic bubbling in your chest. His body shook, his breaths coming in sharp, shallow gasps. You reached out, gripping his shoulders. “Logan! Please—what’s wrong? Talk to me!”

He didn’t respond. His eyes were wide and unfocused, darting as though he was watching something invisible and overwhelming. His claws had retracted, his hands pressed flat to the ground like he was trying to anchor himself.

“Logan…” Your voice cracked, tears blurring your vision. “I’m sorry—I don’t know what I did—please, just say something.”

His breath hitched sharply, and he finally looked at you, though his gaze was distant, almost haunted. “I… I can’t—” His voice was rough, fractured, as though he was choking on the words. “It’s… I remember.”

You froze. The blood roaring in your ears was nearly deafening. “What do you mean? Remember what?”

Logan shook his head as if trying to clear it, but his face was pale, his features twisted with a mix of disbelief and something raw—grief? Love? Fear? You couldn’t tell.

“It’s us.” His hands reached for you instinctively, his calloused palms cupping your face. “I see you. I see…” His words faltered, and his gaze flickered like he was staring into a memory you couldn’t reach. “The wedding. Laura. Gabby. God, darlin’, I see all of it. I feel it.”

Your heart clenched, your breath catching in your throat. “You remember this life?” you whispered, your hands resting on his wrists.

Logan’s eyes, normally so sharp and guarded, now brimmed with something far more vulnerable—tears threatening to spill as his gaze bore into yours. “Yeah,” he rasped, his voice rough, choked. “Not just bits and pieces… all of it.”

Tears continued to blur your vision as you searched his face, struggling to process his words. His hands stayed on your face, steady even though they were trembling slightly, and his eyes darted over yours like he was trying to memorize every detail, afraid you might vanish if he looked away for even a second.

“Logan…” Your voice wavered, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest. “You… remember everything?”

He nodded, the movement jerky, uncoordinated. “Yeah. Every damn thing,” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion. “I remember… us. Our life. Laura. Gabby. The day I put this ring on your finger.” His thumb brushed against the gold band on your left hand, his expression flickering between awe and devastation. “I remember it all, darlin’. And it’s like I’ve been livin’ two lives at once.”

Your heart twisted, torn between relief and worry. Relief that he was remembering the life you’d built together—your family, your home—but worry because you knew what this meant for him. Logan wasn’t just remembering. He was reconciling two lifetimes, one full of loss and pain, and one where he’d finally found peace.

You cupped his face now, your hands trembling against his rough, stubbled cheeks. “Logan,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant sounds of the fight still raging in the facility. “You’re here. You’re with me. With us. And that’s all that matters.”

His eyes stayed locked on yours, and you could see the storm of emotions swirling behind them—grief, guilt, love, hope. “It’s real,” he said, almost like he needed to hear it to believe it. “This… all of it… it’s real. I didn’t lose you this time.”

“No,” you murmured, tears spilling freely now. “You didn’t lose me. You’ve got me, Logan. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His hands tightened ever so slightly on your face, his forehead lowering until it rested gently against yours. His breath hitched, and you felt the faintest tremor run through him. “I lost you six times, sweetheart. Six times. I held you in my arms while you—” His voice broke, and he sucked in a sharp breath like he was trying to keep himself together. “I can’t… I can’t lose you again. I won’t.”

“You won’t,” you said firmly, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. “You won’t, Logan. This is our life. Our family. And you’re not gonna lose me. Not now, not ever.”

For a long moment, the two of you just stayed like that, kneeling on the cold floor in the middle of a war zone, holding on to each other like the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

Finally, Logan spoke again, his voice quieter now, though no less weighted. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his tone raw. “I remember us, but I don’t… I don’t feel like the man you married. I don’t feel like Laura and Gabby’s dad.”

Your heart ached at his words, but you held his gaze, your own resolve strengthening. “You are the man I married,” you said softly but firmly. “You’re the same Logan who’s been by my side for twenty years, who’s been an amazing father to Laura and Gabby, who’s built this life with me. I know it doesn’t feel that way right now, but it will. You’ll remember not just with your head, but with your heart, too. I promise.”

He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling shakily before nodding. “I hope you’re right, darlin’,” he murmured. “Because I don’t wanna screw this up.”

“You won’t,” you assured him. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Another explosion sounded in the distance, and Logan’s head whipped around, his instincts kicking in. “We gotta move,” he said gruffly, helping you to your feet. “You okay to walk?”

“I’m fine,” you said, though your legs wobbled slightly as the adrenaline began to wear off. Logan steadied you with a hand on your waist, his touch firm but careful.

“Let’s find the others,” he said, his voice steadying as he slipped back into mission mode. But before you could take a step, he stopped, turning back to you. His hand cupped your cheek again, his eyes soft but serious. “I love you,” he said, the words rough but filled with conviction. “I just… I needed to say it.”

Your breath caught, but you smiled, leaning into his touch. “I love you, too,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “Always.”

He nodded once, then released you, his claws sliding out with a familiar snikt. “Stay close,” he said, his tone low and protective as he led the way down the corridor. And though the chaos of the mission loomed ahead, you felt a flicker of hope—because no matter what, you were facing it together.

---

Once back at the mansion, the first things you saw were Laura and Gabby standing by Rogue, waiting for the others to clear the jet before you and Logan stepped off.

Gabby was the first to make a move, walking at a brisk pace until Logan finished climbing down the stairs and kneeled down, “c’mere princess.”

She let out a happy squeal and ran the rest of the way, launching herself into Logan’s arms. “You haven’t called me that in ages!”

Laura walked over to the three of you, giving you a short hug from the side, “weeks, Gabby, weeks.”

Gabby removed herself from Logan’s chest, turning to face her sister, “that’s ages Laura!”

Laura crossed her arms, her eyebrow arched in exaggerated disbelief. “It’s weeks, Gabby. Don’t be so dramatic.”

Logan chuckled, low and gravelly, still kneeling on the hangar floor. His hands rested lightly on Gabby’s shoulders as she spun back around to look at him, her big, expressive eyes narrowing in mock irritation.

“Well, she’s right about one thing,” Logan said, ruffling Gabby’s hair. “I haven’t been callin’ you ‘princess’ like I should.”

Gabby beamed, throwing her arms around his neck again. “It’s okay, Daddy. I forgive you!”

Behind them, you stood near the ramp, watching the scene with a mix of relief and warmth. Logan caught your eye over Gabby’s shoulder, his gaze softening as it locked on yours. For a moment, it was like the rest of the world disappeared.

Laura’s voice broke the spell. “You’re forgiven this time,” she said with a teasing smirk as she stepped closer. “But Gabby’s gonna milk it for at least a week. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Logan straightened, a hand resting on Gabby’s back as he looked at Laura with that gruff, fatherly affection he’d perfected. “Yeah, well, I reckon I can handle that.”

Gabby grinned triumphantly, glancing between her sister and her dad. “See? Told you I’m his favorite.”

Logan groaned, shaking his head as he rose to his feet, lifting Gabby effortlessly in his arms. “Don’t start that, kiddo. I got room for both of you troublemakers.”

Gabby giggled, but Laura rolled her eyes. “Nice save, Dad.”

You chuckled softly, stepping forward now that the moment felt a little less overwhelming. “Alright, you two,” you said, your voice warm but firm. “Let’s get inside. Everyone’s probably waiting, and your dad looks like he could use a break.”

Logan gave you a small, appreciative smile, one that lingered longer than usual, like he was drinking in every detail of you standing there. He shifted Gabby to his hip and reached out with his free hand, his calloused fingers brushing yours briefly as you both turned toward the mansion.

The walk back was filled with Gabby’s chatter, Laura’s sarcastic commentary, and Logan’s occasional grunt of amusement. But as the four of you crossed the threshold into the warmth of the mansion, you could feel the shift in Logan—a quiet resolve mixed with the raw emotion still simmering beneath the surface.

Once the girls were out of earshot, you tugged gently on Logan’s sleeve, pulling him aside into the quieter hallway. His brows furrowed slightly, but he let you guide him, his hand instinctively finding its way to your waist.

“Logan,” you started softly, looking up at him as the distant echoes of the mansion’s activity faded. “Are you okay?”

Logan’s jaw tensed, his eyes searching yours as though weighing his answer. The soft glow of the mansion’s lights illuminated his face, highlighting the exhaustion and turmoil etched into his features. He let out a low sigh, the sound heavy with emotion, before his hand slid from your waist to cradle the side of your face.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice rough but honest. “It’s like... I’ve been livin’ someone else’s life for weeks. Like it was mine but not mine, ya know? And now…” He paused, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, his brow furrowing. “Now it’s all there. Every moment. Every damn thing. I remember our girls, our wedding, us. And it’s... it’s real. But it feels like it shouldn’t be. Like it’s a dream I’m gonna wake up from any second.”

Your heart clenched at the raw vulnerability in his voice. You reached up, covering his hand with yours, grounding him. “It’s not a dream, Logan. This is real. We’re real. Laura and Gabby are real. You’re their dad, my husband, and the man who’s been by my side through everythin’. You’ve got us, and we’ve got you.”

His eyes softened, but there was still a shadow of doubt lingering in them. “Feels like I’ve been walkin’ around with a piece missin’, and now it’s slammed back into place all at once. It’s almost too much.”

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. His heart thundered beneath your ear, fast and unsteady, but his arms came around you like they always had, holding you tightly. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight,” you murmured. “We’ll take it one step at a time. Together.”

Logan buried his face in your hair, his breath hitching as he clung to you. “I missed this,” he said, so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. “Even when I didn’t know what I was missin’, I missed this.”

You smiled against his chest, your tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. “You’re home now,” you whispered. “That’s what matters.”

He nodded against you, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. “You’re somethin’ else, ya know that?” he said, his lips twitching into a faint, almost self-conscious smile. “Don’t deserve you.”

“You’re wrong,” you said firmly, your hand coming up to rest against his cheek. “We deserve each other. And we deserve this life we’ve built. It hasn’t been perfect, Logan, but it’s ours. And it’s worth every fight.”

Logan’s hand slid to the small of your back, his thumb tracing lazy circles there. His gaze held yours for a long moment before he dipped his head, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured. “For not givin’ up on me.”

“Never,” you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips. “Now, let’s get back to the girls. They’ll probably think we’re plotting something if we’re gone too long.”

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, the sound easing some of the tension in his expression. “Yeah, don’t need Gabby comin’ up with some wild theory about why we’re takin’ our time.”

You chuckled, threading your fingers through his as you began walking back toward the living area. “She’d have us starring in some kind of superhero soap opera.”

“Kid’s got a hell of an imagination,” Logan muttered, though there was unmistakable fondness in his tone.

As the two of you reached the living room, Laura and Gabby looked up from the couch where they were sprawled out with popcorn and a movie on the screen. Gabby’s face lit up when she saw you, and she patted the spot next to her enthusiastically. “C’mon, Daddy! We saved you a seat!”

Logan glanced at you, his lips quirking in a small, grateful smile. “Think I better take her up on that,” he murmured.

“You better,” you teased, giving him a nudge. “I’ll grab some drinks and join you.”

He squeezed your hand once before letting go, striding over to settle between his daughters. Gabby immediately curled up against him, and Laura leaned over to steal a piece of his popcorn, earning a mock growl from him.

As you watched the three of them together, laughter bubbling up from the couch, you felt a deep sense of peace settle over you. Logan might still be navigating the storm in his mind, but he was here. And with time, you knew he’d come to fully embrace the life he’d found again.

and it's a happy ever after!!

this was meant to be much shorter. actually, i originally wasn't going to include logan getting his memories back and just make that into a bonus chapter but i couldn't stand it. if it's gonna be a happy ever after i had to go all the way.

and i have i have an idea of how they found laura that does not involve the logan movie. cause, no, no, no, they are getting their happy ending.

with that in mind, again, if anyone is interested in reading about how reader and logan got married, found laura, had gabby, let me know! or, if you have any ideas of stories you want me to tell with reader and logan don't be afraid to ask! (i might have already started writing for the alternate timeline...)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

“Come on, doll,” Barnes takes your hand and leads you across the room. You follow as you will for the rest of your life; obediently. 

His grip is like a vice as he guides you through the hall and down the stairs. Silence meets you at the bottom as your sisters no doubt hear the descent. Yet he doesn’t let you go nor make a move to leave. Instead, he brings you into the front room. 

He squeezes your hand, pressing the large ring into your finger, and releases you. He steps forward as Kitty turns away from the window and Adrienne stands from the sofa. He commands any room he enters and you don’t think you’ll ever be used to that. 

“Sisters,” he declares brightly, “that is what I will call you from now on.” 

He goes first to Kitty and places a kiss on her cheek, then does the same to Adrienne. Each watch him in confusion. You stare blankly. 

“And you can call me brother and ask for anything and everything you need,” he says. 

“Sir,” Kitty moves towards your younger sister. 

“I ask discretion for the time being as I tie up a few loose ends,” Barnes explains. “And we get you all settled where you need to be.” 

Your sisters blink at you then each other. You can’t say it out loud. That makes it real. 

Barnes turns on his heel, “speaking of loose ends, I should go.” 

He comes towards you and takes your hand again. He raises it, certain to show off the glaring diamond, and kisses it. The gesture makes your blood run cold. It is a statement. It isn’t the same as when you kiss his ring, it isn’t deference, no it is a show of ownership. 

“Have a good night,” you say at last. 

He pulls back and lowers your hand. He grins, “it’s already spectacular, doll.” 

He lets you go and steps past you. You stand, stuck in place, as he leaves. The door opens and closes, the hinges jarring you into motion. You go to lock it behind him and Kitty calls your name. 

“What’s going on?” She appears in the doorway. 

You take a breath before you face her. You shrug. Adrienne scrambles around her and snatches your hand. 

“Oh my god, it’s huge.” 

“Stop,” you try to tug your hand back. 

“You’re marrying him?” Kitty’s voice deflates by the last syllable. “Why?” 

You look between them. You can tell one sliver of the truth. “To keep us safe.” 

“Us? We’ll be fine. Barnes says we get an inheritance, we get houses, money--” 

“And then what? It’s not enough to last forever,” you argue. “Even if we can find work, we’ll never make enough to keep that. How long did you work at the yogurt shop before daddy threatened to burn it down? And I have about a week’s experience down at the diner.” 

“We can start now--” 

“We can start now and never reach the finish line,” you insist. “Kitty, you know who daddy was. You sat there and watched what they did to that man today. This isn’t a life you walk away from, even if he’s dead.” 

Adrienne sniffles. She’s on the edge of tears again. 

“So, you do it over? Marry another one? Go through it again?” Kitty challenges. 

“He can make sure that neither of you have to--” 

“We don’t need you to be our martyr,” Kitty argues. 

“I’m not--” you seal your lips and sigh. You wish you could tell her. You wish you could say I shot that fuck and he deserved it because you know she would have loved to do the same thing. Yet, saying it out loud means admitting that you’re all trapped for that moment of vengeance. “Kitty, how much choice do you think he gave me?” 

She stares at you. She knows exactly how it works. There is no asking with these men. 

“We could all go. Disappear.” 

“And they wouldn’t find us? How far could we get, really?” 

“Not far,” Adrienne pipes in. “Kitty, would you rather daddy still be here?” 

Your older sister is silent as her jaw squares. 

“I could marry instead. Maybe not Barnes but someone else. It shouldn’t be you. I’m the oldest--” 

“It is me,” you say, “and it could be any one of us but this is how it is. It’s... not the worst.” 

“It’s not?” Kitty says. “That man stood and ordered another beaten to death. He didn’t flinch.” 

“I know,” you say. 

“No, you don’t know,” Kitty insists, “you can’t be sure that he isn’t like daddy.” 

She’s right. Barnes might have helped vanquish the monster but it can’t erase his own misdeeds. Yet, you asked for all of this. You went there in the middle of the night and sold your soul. You could excuse yourself with naivete, but you deserve more to be branded by it. 

“If it keeps you two from men like daddy--” 

“Stop,” Kitty grabs you by the shoulders. “None of us deserve it.” 

“You stop,” you wrap your fingers calmly around her forearms and peel her hold off of you. “Should I go hand that man his ring back or do you want do it for me?” 

She untangles her wrists from your grasp and recoils. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes up against the threat of tears. She stamps her foot in frustration. 

“You tell me,” she points her finger at you. You’re almost stunned by the fire in her voice and face. Kitty is the sweet one, she’s gentle, but she has your mother’s quiet strength. “You tell me if he ever puts a bruise on you. You fucking tell me.” 

“Kitty,” you murmur. 

Adrienne covers her mouth and watches, swept up in the fraught emotion of it all. 

“No, because I spent a lifetime watching you two cry over that beast we called a father,” she snarls. “I will not waste the rest of my life doing the same. I thought—I thought we were free. I wanted us to be free.” She curls her lip and exhales heavily. “So, you will not lie to me again. And I will know. I will see right through him so you don’t even try to cover it up. One bruise...” she wags her finger then throw up both her hands with a frustrated growl. “I sound like him.” She turns and drags her feet to the stairs. She sits on one and hangs her head. “I sound like daddy. I’m just so... tired.” 

You look at Adrienne and reach for her. She gives you her hand. You bring her over to Kitty and touch your elder sister’s shoulder. She looks up through sparkling eyes. 

“You will know. We will all know. We are sisters and this doesn’t change that,” you say. “We stick together, no matter what.” 

“Oh, we will,” Kitty insists, “I will be at your damn house every day and I will look at that man and I will see all the cracks. Trust me you. He will not take you from us.” 

“Kitty, Ade,” you look from one to the other, “no one can take us from each other. If daddy did one thing, it was making sure of that.” 

[ergoaudrey]

remaking my ebegging post because despite the notecount i'm unfortunately not even half to my goal but! hi. my name's beckett and i'm a mixed race + disabled lesbian, and i work ~8 hours a night on grave shift to support myself, two partners (both of whom are also disabled), and my beloved kitty cats. i barely cover rent with the paycheck i make, and i'm also paying back a loan from my older brother, so money's very tight.

recently we had an incident involving sexual assault, and now all three of us are struggling with the recovery process. we've had a few medical emergencies and have had to call out of work to get help.

we were originally trying to replace a mattress that is now unusuable + get a boxspring for it, but it's been really difficult coping in the aftermath of what's happened, and so the mattress isn't our priority right now. i'm still going to ask for help here though, to help cover the hours we've lost from work.

if you'd like to help keep your local dykes alive + housed, even just a dollar helps, and if you can't spare that then just sharing this post around is always appreciated too. say hi to pepper ☝️ when you do though.

pp & vnmo, please send under friends and family.

if you want a bang for your buck, i've got some pwyw games on my itch.io, and my wife's made some music in the past that you can find on bandcamp.

thank you for the support thus far! ❤️

160/350 [ carrying over from my last post ]

[bet-on-me-13]

Desperate Villain Danny AU

(this is a 17 yr old danny)

It started out slowly.

First, a few of Danny's less active Rouges stopped showing up at all. He didn't really notice, and just assumed that they had finally had their Fill of their Obsession for a while and would simmer down for a bit.

Then, some more of his Rouges stopped showing up. No big deal, but he is getting a little concerned for them. They had definitely not had their fill of their Obsessions yet, why did they stop?

Then, the worst started happen. All of his actual Ghost Friends start to disappear. Ember, Kitty, Johnny, even Amorpho, they all start to not show up at all in the Living World.

He goes looking for them in Realms, but he can't find any of them whatsoever. He tries asking around, but everybody else noticed the disappearances much earlier than him and began to hide away from whatever was taking all of the strong Ghosts. He can't find anybody, and the ones he does find won't tell him anything (or don't know themselves)

It takes weeks of searching, but eventually he gets his answer.

The GIW show up in Amity again after a period of absolutely no activity. They have stepped up their operations HARD. Advanced Ghost Hunting Equipment, Much more Competent Agents, and most worrying of all, they seem to know that Phantom is friends with Sam, Tucker, and Danny Fenton.

The GIW comes to his house for a Meeting with his parents, where he overhears them offering his parents a position in their Organization as Head Scientists. While there they also manage to plant Bugs in Danny's room somehow. Although he finds them quickly enough and destroys them.

And then, one night during dinner while his parents are ranting about the GIWs Labs, they mention something that cinches it for Danny.

"And today we even got to Dissect one of the Spooks! It was that Mind Controlly one, you know the one with the blue firey hair stuff that sang a bunch! We're going back tomorrow to continue our Study, this time we'll see how long it'll pretend to experience pain before it decides to give up on tricking us!"

That night, Danny packed up all his things, destroyed the Ghost Portal alongside everything else in his parents Lab, and left his house.

He tracked down the GIW Base, saved Ember from her Cell, and decimated the surrounding Area. No survivors, none of the research is preserved, and he left the Site Director alive to question him.

Turns out, the GIW had managed to Reverse Engineer the Ghost Portal from that brief period of time where they had taken control of Fenton Works. They had been using their own Portal to kidnap any Ghost they could get their hands on. Using the research from those subjects, they perfected their Ghost Hunting Tech and started going after the bigger fish.

"But good luck finding it, Ecto Scum! The Portals location was hidden to everybody, even me!" He said.

"Where are the others!" Danny cried. He was losing control of his appearance by this point. After seeing what they had done to Ember, he was too angry to maintain his Humanoid Form successfully. Even now, with most of his control, he could hear the Static in the air around him, and see the Glitching of his hands as they clenched this Monsters clothes.

"Scattered!" He said with a crazed laugh, "We knew we couldn't contain all of them, so we send them to all of our sites across the Country! You'll never find them!"

Without another word, Danny plowed his arm through the man's chest.

He turned around, picking up Embers weakened Body, before beginning his long flight to Wisconsin. Vlad still owed him a few Favors after all, and honestly his mentorship offers seemed VERY Tempting right now.

(Why reject him if you don't care about keeping your dad alive anymore?)

...

The JLA had recently received a distress signal from somewhere in the middle of some random Forest in Illinois, but when they got to the location, all they found was a crater filled with the ruins of some kind of Military Base, and so so many Bodies.

They had managed to figure out that this was a Government Site owned by an organization called the GIW. A Paranormal Investigation Wing of the Government focused on the study and capture of Supernatural Beings called Ecto-Entities, otherwise referred to as Ghosts.

As it turns out, an Ecto-Entity that had been terrorizing the local town for a few years now had made a drastic change in normal behavior and had attacked the GIW Base that had been posted there.

They would have destroyed it years ago, but this one was unnaturally powerful. It had eluded their capture and terrorized the Town for years, but they had too much pride to contact the JLA and admit that they needed help. And honestly until now, they didn't really need it. The Entity had been entirely confined to the singular town, and had not strayed from that behavioral Pattern in the 3 years since it's inital sighting. They had made the difficult choice to leave it there, sacrificing one town in exchange for the rest of the country.

But now they did need their help. This Entity, this Phantom, was one of the most powerful beings that had ever recorded, maybe even The Most Powerful. The fact that it had left the Secluded town it usually frequented meant that it was loose to wreak havoc across the rest of the world.

The JLA Needed to Find this thing, and Fast.

[pixiesndberries]

HOW DO I GET YOU ALONE?

— Logan Howlett ❞

𖦰 :: summary — remembering her first love after a long time of running away from it.

→ Logan Howlett, Fem!Reader, Jean Grey, Rogue, Kitty Pryde, and more.

♫ :: Alone - Heart (Bad Animals, 1987) — It Must've Been Love - Roxette (It Must've Been Love, 1990)

𖦰 .. warnings — angst; mentions of intimate moment together (18+ themes), strong words, lmk if I forgot something.

> I haven't double checked this, might contain grammatical errors and typos.

𖦰 author's note — LMK IF YOU WANT LOGAN'S POV GUYS 🙏 I kinda felt shitty and I wanted a heart clenching angst, I don't want them to be happy and all of that love story. Probably my longest work ever and I'll have my break for like a day or two (more like 2 years) anyways HAVE FUN POOKIES!

WORD COUNT — 3, 666k words

"Hey, take care of the kids and yourself too." the man mutters underneath his breath as he places his 'best dad in the world' coffee mug in the sink, quickly grabbing himself a napkin to wipe the left residue on his lips — it took her a quick moment to respond since her attention is too focused on putting her children's school lunch in their very own lunch boxes, "yeah, yeah you too." she nods as she wipes her hand in her colourful apron, giving him a glare.

"did you have everything? car keys? the lunch I made you?" she says with a worried yet hurried tone making sure her husband got everything in his hands before leaving the house — "yes, ma'am." he chuckles with a nod, before she could even say something back he walked up to her wrapping his arms around her, planting a kiss on her temples.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

he nodded and left pulls away, calling the kids to have their goodbyes before their father left for work — she turns around and sighs while wiping the bead of sweat forming in her forehead, she then closes the lunchboxes and place it inside the lunch bags.

for the last nine years, this is her daily routine — to be a responsible wife and mother towards her husband and children, to be her children's first teacher and to be her husband's helping hand.

just like her dream, to be wife to somebody.

to a certain someone.

"Mommy!" james yells from his room making her drop what she was doing in panic that something might've happen to her first born son, she rushed upstairs 'till his room just to see him being completely fine — "Mommy, we need to bring old photos of our parents to school for our family tree." he says slightly feeling scared that he might've freaked his mom out for yelling too loud and exaggerated.

she sighs closing her eyes, but then looks at the kid, again trying to be calm as possible not wanting to scold the child because the school bus is going to arrive in ten minutes and he just had the balls to tell her that right now. "Okay, give me a quick moment. Wait downstairs and watch Peter and Julien for me, is that okay?" she says calmly.

"okay, mommy." james nodded as he carries his backpack with him, she created a space so he could get out of his bedroom door — when she heard his foot steps coming from the stairs she closed his bedroom door and made her way to the attic wherein the old and useless stuff was placed.

she pulled the ladder string making the ladder fall on it's own, she then secured it making sure it's stable enough to step on. As soon as it was stable enough she climbed, her head peeking through the attic.

she then spend her last minutes searching for some old boxes with photos, she already obtained her husband's old photos, mainly the one from his school yearbook photos — on the other hand, she couldn't manage to look for hers. She didn't really had much of photos before except for some that are nowhere to be found, she didn't go to school either which means she does have yearbook photos to share.

she already wanted to give up and just hand out the photos that she had in her hands right now, but her eyes landed on this brown wooden box with her brain processing where it could be from, it looks familiar at the same time it doesn't.

she then crouched to grab the box, it was small and almost fragile considering how old it maybe is. She shook the box making sure it has something inside and it did sound like there are things inside but it feels like it's packed with so much things inside.

she already forgot about the ticking of the clock and how close the school bus might be already. She flick the button open, bringing her hand to open the lid.

letters

photographs

and a locket.

it made her stop breathing for a moment, it's like her soul jumped out of her body for a quick mini second as the realization of what this was — she blinked while her fingers lingered into the rough almost fragile papers that contains letters and the photos wherein the colors are slowly fading.

she exhales and attempted to push back the letters and photos all at once in the small box, she's rushing making it unable to push it all at once except if placed neatly, out of frustration she dropped the box making it scattered all around the floor with the other ones flying somewhere in the room — she sighs closing her eyes, only to see a photo of them lying in the floor with a letter behind it.

the poorly written words even brought those memories back too good yet it stings painfully than being tortured by an electrocuting machine — no, she wasn't supposed to sit here and see this all of these things that are supposed to be gone ever since she left that damn roof. She already left what she was many years ago and she's not planning to remember nor come back because she's already contended of what she have right now, this was her dream right?

she felt a bead of tear slowly runs down her cold cheeks as she stare at the photo with her hand holding into it, wanting to just tear it apart or maybe burn it until it's all nothing but ashes that she's soon going to throw away in the lake nearby her house.

hair was short, smile was wide, she's wearing his leather jacket, his hands wrapped around her waist and her lips was attached into his cheeks — the piece of paper crumbled into her hand as she lets out an exhausted sigh and her eyes' blinking trying to avoid wasting tears again.

the same face she had as they were talking that night, the night that absolutely ruined her.

before this whole him meeting jean thing, everything was way too different compared to what situation they're in after him meeting jean — they're almost entwined and it feels like they're the only one who understands each other wether it's about missions or just in general.

birds of a feather or two peas in a pod, that's what professor x calls them, they're almost inseparable — but as times goes by it's more than just friendship.

at some point the tension started being way too compacted that it's almost hard to resist the fact that he couldn't help but to look at her lips everytime she speaks or maybe she couldn't help but to look when he's just there standing topless while fixing something — everything was irresistible.

"I don't know, he just keeps coming at me or something." she shrugs with their bodies next to each other as stares at her drink, the tension was tight and somehow warm — and the fact that Logan is questioning about this random dude who came up to her basically checking her out, it's not helping.

he doesn't want to sound possessive.

she's not his.

she doesn't want to avoid the guy either.

it's not like he's going to get jealous.

he didn't mutter any response but the moment she looked at him, she can hear the mutters inside his head — she knows that she agreed to not read his mind but she couldn't help, her head got ears and it's hearing too well.

"I'm not going with him, not worth my time. Rather, I know someone's better at wasting my time." she mutters underneath her breath quickly looking back at her whiskey as he looks back — he clicked his tongue putting the glass down in the counter, she then looks back making their eyes locked at each other.

it was deep, it was something, what do you call that? mind fucking?

she's sure it's not her telepathy thing that is wanting to pull him into a kiss right now and let him do the things that he wanted to do to her, and Logan is also sure that's it's not only him who's been feeling this close and those gazes and touches didn't have any meaning.

"fuck." she mutters underneath her breath as she holds into the bathroom's towel rail for balance as Logan's teeth leaves marks on her neck — she can't help but to wince and moan lightly as he squeezes her glutes, feeling the tight pressure.

"Logan, it's going to be visible." she sighs as he pulls away with her free hand resting on the back of his head.

"can't find the problem."

fuck, literally.

she pulls him in a passionate kiss, feeling almost like high or euphoric just by this. It was an overwhelming gut rush that she couldn't explain, she can taste the bitterness of the liquor he just had mixing with hers and it's getting her almost feral — "fuck me, Logan." she groans in his ears, like that her request is what he fulfils.

it would be a lie if both of them say everything happened once or twice, it was more than that — they didn't shared just themselves, their body, a kiss but an intimacy that she knew she wouldn't have with anyone else except for Logan.

it wouldn't be the same if it's not Logan.

every night, as they lay together in bed with Logan next to her sleeping his ass off — she couldn't help but to think, what they really are.

sometimes she would just be there and imagine their future together, kids, a nice house, and them being together — a small house down town just perfectly enough for their family, she even promised herself that if they're going to have their first son, it's name is going to be James Howlett Jr.

she's never really been a vocal type of person since from the start, she prefers quiet over anything else in this world — she never once brought the words, "what are we?" or maybe ask him if they're more than just sharing naked bodies at one bed or crashing lips together as the world falls apart around them.

but then she just spends her whole night pondering when's the right time going to be to just ask him if,

if he feels more than just sexual tension or whatever was this.

like, it couldn't be so casual that he'd hug her from behind or be a worrywart everytime she's out of sight during missions — and most of all, friends don't say I love you during sex, right?

she'd always remember when a fortune teller told her that 'you wouldn't know when the universe is going to turn against you' she never believed it not until she came home from a mission along with kitty — as she walk in the halls, she could already hear the familiar voice; his voice.

and jean's voice?

when she was only few steps away from the room where all the noises of the room is coming from, she was fighting with herself wether to just stay and listen or just walk by the room so maybe he'll notice that she's there or maybe just mind her own business, they're just friends right?

she can hear Logan's chuckle as she teases him over something.

she couldn't help but to feel this weird ache in her stomach, she couldn't explain the feeling but it was slowly going up her chest until it reaches her throat — her chest rises she closed her eyes trying to take deep breaths and thinking to just walk away.

she opens her eyes and exhales heavily, almost audible — she walked pass by the room purposely making her steps audible, she didn't even know why she did that.

she walked quickly back to her room and closed the door behind her, then leaning her back into the door with a heavy sigh — why did I do that?

why do I feel like this?

why,

why,

and why's.

that's all she could think of all night, they're just friends right?

the kiss

the way he holds her hand

no, she pushed herself to calm down — Logan can be friends with anyone, what she witnessed is just a friendly conversation so where's the reason to be paranoid?

and they aren't even together.

each night she wasted her time pondering what to do because they are slowly drifting away from each other — as time passes Logan and Jean's relationship are getting tighter, closer, it's like they're sewn together and she's just there.

letting things be,

letting everything go it's way like nothing happened between them.

"are you seriously going to stand there and just watch them?" rogue scoffs while holding a cup of coffee, scooting herself next to her friend who seems to be swimming in her own thoughts — her mind was blank while leaning into the balcony as the stars shines bright, she's well aware of the company that rogue and kitty offered her.

"didn't know you're a masochist now." kitty teased making rogue let out a low chuckle as she sips her coffee — no reaction from her, she just breaths heavily.

the atmosphere was quiet for a moment, only the sound of crickets was audible but she broke it after seconds — "I don't know, if he wanted me in the first place it wouldn't be like this."

"I mean like, the real thing."

rogue and kitty exchanged glances feeling bad for their friend, rogue looked at her for a moment then let's out a heavy sigh.

"you should talk to him, you know, to have a closure of what you two did isn't just games."

"I wish it was that easy." she says looking back at rogue, "I've made numerous attempts but when it's the actual thing and he's there, it's so hard to speak."

rogue and kitty couldn't find the perfect words to help her put her hopes up, they haven't been in her place — she's not asking for it either, she's doing okay and she appreciated the time her friends are putting on her to help her with this.

"if you wouldn't try, you wouldn't know right?" kitty spoke

she understood both of her friends suggestion to what to do, it's easy when you think about it but when you're actually there the aching feeling that slowly crawls up to her throat was getting her,

but she couldn't just sit there and wait because at some point he'll probably never try because he's focused on someone else.

cinnamon girl, is that what she is right now?

he's addicted on something and couldn't bring himself to care about her, anymore?

she wouldn't say that he completely shut her off his life, sometimes when they would run against each other, they would exchange glances but never would say a thing — sometimes during dinner the whole team would talk, then Logan would agree to her words — after missions Logan would check up the other people and she's one of them, but then she'll just smile and nod.

he's there, but not completely there.

she hated how casual it is for him to just walk pass by her, stand next to her like nothing happened, talk to jean as if she wasn't there.

this wasn't them numerous days ago, she's longing for it and it hurts so bad.

she just wanted to run away from it, but with him and jean being in the same roof as hers — it's so hard to find an excuse.

during dinner, she was so quiet as she was eating this whatever food it was — she couldn't even think straight, all of the people that surrounds her are laughing and she's just there drowning herself in a pool filled thoughts.

"right, (y/n)?" rogue chuckles nudging her arms which made her quickly looked around the people in the table, almost feeling like she just woke up in from daydream which made everyone around the table confused and exchange glances.

"yeah, yeah." she nodded awkwardly chuckling looking back at her food, kitty and rogue exchanging looks as if they already know the reason behind her behavior right now.

to fill the awkward atmosphere gambit created a joke making the whole table laugh again as if nothing happened, there she was so low in her food.

she glared around the people making sure their attention wasn't on hers because honestly it was that embarrassing, but then her eyes landed on Logan who quickly looked back.

no shit.

she glared back at her food and continue to finish it off so she could finally leave the table and rest.

on the other hand, Logan looked confused yet seem to already be puzzling the reasons why her behaviors like that right now.

later that night after the dinner, rogue and kitty said their goodnights to her and made their way to their rooms — while she was walking in the hall she was still lost of what's happening around her, she couldn't help but to think, think, and think.

out of nowhere she had this urge to stop walking, and yeah right.

Logan was in the hall too,making his way somewhere she doesn't know.

Logan also stopped his tracks and looked at her, both of their faces blank.

What do I do?

Should I?

she's fighting with herself inside, wether to approach him and talk about it or just once let it go.

her chest was rising heavily, it's visible and the tension right now is almost compacted as if there's no air.

"Logan."

"(y/n)."

both of their names slipped from each's lips on the same time — is he aware?

"can we talk? please." she exhales feeling the aching torns building up her throat once again, almost choking her — Logan nodded, she gave the somewhere private look and he shrugged agreeing with her.

You don't know how long I have wanted, to touch your lips and hold you tight. — You don't know how long I have waited, and I was going to tell you tonight.

they are in the balcony, with the cold wind feeding the almost dry atmosphere — she can't really explain what she felt but it's almost like she's trapped in a box and she's slowly exploding, it's an overwhelming feeling having him here.

she doesn't know how to start and he's just standing there waiting for her to say the words he needed to hear, she gulps and looked at him with her eyes reflecting the bright colors of the stars and moon.

"it's, about us." she finally spoke, her voice almost cracking through the words — she's fighting the urge not to cry right now, her chest just feels so heavy.

she can see in her eyes how Logan reacted when the word us slips from her lips, he knows that what she's talking about and if she's in the right state she would've plucked her mind to get under his to read whatever he's thinking right now.

he didn't respond, "Logan, what am I to you? Are you really going to shut me off like I was someone who you didn't know." she says with her fist tightening into a ball and her voice raising a little — frustration and pain.

"Logan, are you really going to act like this forever, like I wasn't here?" she says with a firm tone.

"are you really going to forget about what we had?"

"those kisses, sweet nothings, touch, and whatever the fuck it is!"

"(y/n)."

"don't fucking call me now, Logan, I am so fucking hurt." she says pointing at his chest out of frustration, she felt like exploding right now.

beads of tears was already slipping in her cheeks, her chest rising continuously.

he was dumbfounded, not being able to find the right words to defend himself — because it was true, it all happened and he couldn't just pretend that it didn't happened.

"tell me, those fucking things that we had is nothing to you!"

"that's not true."

"then why!" she sobs trying her best to keep her voice down, "Logan, why?"

"I don't know."

"what do you mean you don't know?" she sobs again feeling so frustrated, "Logan, I'm sure those things are easy to forget shit."

"if it's just fucking, flirting, comforting to you. Logan to me it's the real fucking thing, what do you call that again? Love?"

she never once wanted to admit that she's in love, she hated love, they both hated love and all this time they both believed that what they did is just nothing, something they can easily forget — sorry for breaking it to him, she fooled herself for thinking it's love.

"I never learned to care until I met you."

"I never learned to love until I met you." she says almost choking from her own spit as tears continuously pouring.

again, Logan couldn't bring himself to speak — it's not like he doesn't care to what's happening right now, he just didn't know this is what she felt all this time. He thought she felt the way he does, all of this are nonsense.

"I thought it was all nothing." he says back, "I thought you and I agreed that we're doing that no strings attached."

"but you said I love you, and I'm sorry clinged to that but I hoped." she quickly responded, "my mouth hasn't shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may like me the way that I do was stuck in my brain, which hasn't stopped thinking about you since." she says with her voice cracking mid sentence.

"I didn't mean to make you feel that way, but you know we both agreed right? that we don't have something."

"and that was my mistake, but you couldn't just say you love me like it was nothing."

she still remembers it perfect in her head, she can still hear how he said it during sex, while they're just together, kissing her forehead and mumbles I love you before mission — it was all nothing?

"I just wished you could've told me before you," she pauses wiping her tears, in fact she couldn't even bring herself to say her name.

"you could've told me that before meeting Jean, because I felt like I'm some kind of toy that you got sicked of playing."

it was nothing but quiet for a few seconds but Logan cutted the silence as he attempted to explain for himself.

"I was the first person Jean got closed with and during that time you were nowhere to be found, maybe you're there but so far."

"I thought you didn't want me anymore."

she did, she did spaced away from him thinking he doesn't her anymore — it's her mistake for not talking this out ever since she felt jealous.

"but that's not a reason to completely shut me off, you could've ended whatever we are doing in a good way so I wouldn't hope anymore that you would still be knocking at my door, to talk to me." she added

they're are both standing at their own points.

she already felt tired at this moment and just wanted to cry her eyes out in her room and Logan was completely lost right now, conflicted between Her and Jean.

she already know that he wouldn't at least try to explain that he once loved her like she did, she's so dumb for even thinking about it.

"then I'm sorry, if that's what you wanted to hear."

why is he making it sound like she's demanding for an apology? she doesn't want to see him anymore, she's so miserable right now.

she sighs, she doesn't even know what to say now everything is messing up with her head, she already said what she have to say to him and it made her chest lighter now — but there's still an open wound in her heart right now.

"I love her, but I appreciated you."

and when she heard those words it felt like the world came crashing to her and continuously slaps her on the face, Logan then turned back, having himself looking back at her before walking way.

as much as she wanted to stop him, she thought it's for the best to let him be — it already happened, it's clear that he didn't want her from the start.

So this is it?

That's it?

Should I be happy that he appreciated me?

Logan could still here muffles and cries that night, he was in his bed trying to shake off the feeling — this weird feeling, he knew that he should be sorry but in the first place he thought both of them doesn't believe in love, he clinged into that.

He'd be lying if he didn't admit he didn't mean to say those words, those sweet nothings, and those love gestures — he was conflicted between the forming feelings for her and the fact that she once admitted that she doesn't believe in love.

so he stopped himself and found Jean, Jean wasn't so scared of showing her love and the slow burning start of their romance — if he knew that they're both in love from the start maybe he wouldn't be here in this bed right now remembering the words she have said.

he was a jerk and he knows that, but he it'll make things tougher if he admitted that he also felt something for her — it would be useless now that him and jean had this thing now, it'll hurt her more.

Last minute regret, he's going to carry this forever.

"I have to find my myself professor, I think this is just not for me." she mutters underneath her breath while looking at the man in front of her, Professor Charles Xavier.

she professor was dumbfounded for her sudden departure with the reason of she felt like what she's doing wasn't really for her — as much as professor x wanted to disagree because of her helpful abilities that put the team together, it's almost like him and her are alike, he couldn't bring himself to stop her.

there's this energy that tells him that she is in agony, a sense of lost, as if she was in grief — he didn't bother to read her mind, it feels too wrong especially when she look like this.

"if that what makes you happy, I am delighted to fully support your decision, I just wanted you to know that the door is open when you wanted to come back, (y/n)." the professor said with a grin on his face, which somehow sent her a sense of comfort.

"I am holding into that." she smiles, but she remembered something before going.

"please don't tell them, the only people who are aware are rogue and kitty, please?"

"as you wish."

and that she traveled where she can, wherever her feet brings her finding the peace that she wanted — she wanted to leave who she was, wanting her old self dead and forgotten.

as much as it hurts her, she wanted to space away not wanting to drown herself once again — maybe she really love him that much that she reached this point.

Logan was her first love, and she knows it's going to take a long time forgetting that face.

she changed everything about her from head to toes, cut and dyed her hair, attempted to find a new style which she successfully did and to forget everything in the past leaving them where they belong.

she found herself in Switzerland, wherein she built a flower shop and when she's not busy she'll be a part time teacher in preschool — with that being said, that's the same place she met her husband.

he always buys flowers in her shop for his mother who was sick, there he learned his interest towards her — Long story short, they got married and shared three children; James, Julien, and Peter.

and ever since she met her husband she forgot about Logan, not even thinking's where he is, how is he doing, if he is still actually alive — she never once think of him, even the school and her friends.

"Mommy! The school bus is here!" when she heard a familiar voice coming from down the attic she quickly stuffed the box and what it contains somewhere that wouldn't be found by any of the people inside this house except her, she wiped her tears and took a deep breath.

"I'm done, hold on." she says before grabbing a random photograph with Logan and tearing it apart quickly making her way down the attic, handing it to James as fast as possible.

"kids!" she calls out as she walk fast guiding the kids out of the house with the big yellow bus waiting outside.

:: additional note — LMK IF YOU WANTED THIS BUT LOGAN'S POV CUZ LIKE I FELT I DID LOGAN DIRTY WITH THIS ONE 🙏 THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC SO FAR 😭 I'M TIRED BYE.

ᯓ★ pixiesndberries 2024 ! i don't allow my work to be share in any platforms without my permission — REBLOGS, LIKES, AND FOLLOW ARE APPRECIATED !

[heartfullofleeches]

bunny, catboy, snake and puppy streamer darling do a collab together (housepet streamers or smth) and the live chat has to be turned off because of the atrocities being said lmao love your work by the way bro

(Written fron Snake's Pov bc they're the newest and I haven't done much for them yet - and because they're the flirt of the bunch so yk they're starting trouble)

"Housepet" Darlings Collab Stream Blurb

-

What an amusing dilemma you, and your newfound acquaintances have found yourselves ensnared in-

"Get that messy ass cat away from my precious snake before they claw my angel to death with those untrimmed talons!"

It's one thing when their degeneracy is targeted exclusively at you, but packed in a room with peers lusted after by like-minded audiences - there is little filter to the insistent obscenities flying from their keyboard.

"Aye! Don't be a dick! I think they should get closer. Close enough to kiss.. ^3^"

"Sloppy makeouts- NOW!"

"Strong puppy, adorable bunny, feisty kitty, and a naughty snake. I wanna keep you all locked up in my house where I'd keep you well fed and we'd snuggle all day and-"

"Ugh- Can someone turn off that text-to-speech already? This is exactly why I removed that crap ages ago."

Slamming their whisk down on the counter, your feline companion hisses in vexation as they scrub cake frosting from their cheek. Noticing a spot they missed, you take the opportunity to rally up the ever growing population of viewers - sweeping your thumb across their skin before popping it in your mouth with a small, appeased hum.

"Delicious-"

The responses to your little display are lightening quick.

"Do it again. With your tongue this time."

"Bunny needs some help cleaning up too! I think you all need to take a bath. With me ♡."

"KISS EACH OTHER! SWAP SPIT AND THEN SELL IT TO YOUR LOYAL FANS SO WE CAN HAVE A TASTE OF ALL FOUR OF YOU AT ONCE!"

The timid rabbit chef ducks behind your taller figure, burying their tiny, pink nose in your shoulder. "M-maybe we should turn the comments off... Just f-for a little while!"

"If that's what makes you comfortable, my darling-" Smile warm as the oven's swelter, you pat the shorter animals head. "You are the one in charge of our little gathering after all."

"Haha! Don't leave me out of this!"

Dunking their hand directly into the bowl, the canine darts various points of their face in frosting - arms spreading in invitation for all of their new friends.

"Ready and eager for kisses from my new best buds!"

The cat recoils as puppy's shadow devours them -crawling on top of the counter for good measure. "Not happening."

"Come here, you." Holding them by the scruff of their neck, your forked tongue flickers against the dog's jaw as they chuckle from the feathery sensation. Their brawny arms lift you to help you reach more areas of their face as their wagging tail hammers against the counter. Eyes from the cat and bunny entranced by the friendly display of affection maintain the bliss of the unknown as the feline discreetly turns off the chat - hundreds upon thousands of calls demanding for the same love to be shared left unheard.

[frostedsugarcookiehearts]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ you're a part time lover + a whole time friend!

slimecicle donated!

$50

i like yur bow :D

୨ৎ

"aww, char, thank youu! i appreciate it— how are you doing?" a smile spread across your entire face as you situated your co-streamer (fufu, your stuffed bunny plushie) on your lap, ruffling his hair. your eyes raced across the screen, trying to read every single chatter's words. you were actually known on twitch for having one of the more respectful, kind and loving chatters. mostly because your demographic was mostly girls, the lgbtq community + charlie slimecicle.

slimecicle: good !!1!! do you want to hop on the smp??

oh yeah, the smp!! recently chuckle sandwich had decided to create an smp together to fill in videos for when the three of them couldn't all fly out to meet up. they invited you, because you were connected to all three of them. you and ted were mutual friends, and you're the one who inspired his "watching all the barbie movies" video, since you were an avid barbie fan, and you and schlatt had done a stream together a few months ago playing hello kitty island adventure. (also with charlie!)

and then the chuckle smp was born, aka the csmp. many other creators made cameos on the smp, including you! your first day on the smp was as expected— you started making a cute little starter house! schlatt yelled at you though for "raising the property value" of the neighborhood, because all he had made was a dirt shack so far, and he'd been on the smp for like a week!

as you booted up your minecraft (chock-full of shaders), you spawned in your cute little cottage. you hopped on a discord call with charlie as you two joked around and started traveling to find more cherry wood so you could create a little barn for your pink sheep.

"onward! we must commence our journey to find more cherry wood." charlie puts on a mock-serious voice, his minecraft character punching the air as you two started running off in a random direction.

an adorable confused expression crossing your face, your brows knit together and your nose scrunches. "wait, can't we use like, coordinates or something? to find the forest."

charlie lets out a strangled laugh, shaking his head. "that's not how that works, cutie. that's if you already know where it is, but we don't."

"oh!"

he snickers, affectionately rolling his eyes. you two stumble upon a village, and you just fall in love with a cute little calico that's patrolling the rivers near the village. "aww, it's so cute! it's mine now." you cooed, crouching and slowly stalking towards it. you were a little rusty at minecraft and forgot that you're supposed to hold fish to tame a cat, so you accidentally hit it. "NO!" you cried. "i want to tame it!"

charlie, upon hearing this, immediately dives his minecraft character into the lake and finds you fish at a record-breaking pace, running back up to you and handing you three cod. "here. now you can click it, to tame it. you need fish." he assures you gently, smiling to himself.

you do as he said and tame it with one fish! you gasp. "it's meant to be." clapping, you burst into amused giggles. "i'm gonna name him..." you punched a cactus, putting into a furnace and mixing it with white dye. turning the cat's collar green, you proclaim, "charlie."

so (cat) charlie became a permanent fixture on the chuckle smp. he was part of numerous bits and mostly liked to sleep on your pink bed in your cute little cottage. you even made (human) charlie a little room in your house to sleep when he was over. and he was over so much, chat genuinely forgot he had made his own base when he first started the smp. eventually the shipping got so bad that you two decided to get married.

in minecraft, that is! and charlie totally didn't freak out and put on an actual suit, putting on cologne— even though it was over stream— and fixing his hair. he even polished up his glasses for this! ted was charlie's best man while your maid of honor was (cat) charlie, and everyone unanimously decided that schlatt should be the flower girl. and so he was!

you walked down the aisle on a llama (who was canonically your dad), and charlie broke out into a huge, embarrassing grin upon seeing your minecraft character. he was head-over-fucking heels, and it was a little embarrassing. it was a minecraft skin after all, but he knew that you were the face behind it, and that was the best part. sometimes he woke up with a grin on his face from the fact that you even gave him a second look, let alone were his friend!

"do you, charlie slimecicle—" tucker, the officiator, said in a mock deep voice. "take this lovely person here to be your partner forever?"

"i do." his voice wobbled.

a grin spread across your face, and charlie's eyes were locked onto your face cam. you'd also gotten dressed up for the occasion in a cute little white outfit. "and do you take charlie slimecicle to be your partner forever?"

"i do."

tucker grinned, gesturing to charlie's minecraft character. "you may now kiss the groom," he drawled.

your two minecraft characters crouched and smooshed into each other's faces in a weird, kiss-like action. the "rings" you exchanged were a pink hair tie for charlie that he quickly slid onto his wrist and a green matching one for yourself. it was picture-perfect, and you supposed, good practice for when if you actually got married.

after the beautiful minecraft wedding, you made a teensy tiny little offhand comment that made charlie's heart pound and his head fucking spin. you two were joking around and you quipped, "charlie, i told my mom i was getting married, and now she said she has to meet you. make sure you're up to par, ya know."

"m—meet her?" he stammered, eyes wide. "uh, i mean— okay." charlie's voice cracked at the end as if he was twelve and not twenty-six.

well, the editors went crazy with the whole thing. the wedding, the 'meeting-your-mom' part and especially the matching hair ties the two of you never ever took off. you two had taken the whole by storm for getting married on a minecraft server!

୨ৎ

divider creds @bernardsbendystraws

this is what inspired a good portion of this fic (smp bit) go check them out they're SUCHH an inspiration omg :D

[leiasproductions]

ㅤ𐔌͡ㅤׅㅤㅤ✿ꫀㅤׂ⠀—NEW ADDITION !—

— hamzah X reader, fluff.

“HAMZAH, LOOK AT THAT ONE!” I scream, running toward the clear case, peering at the orange kitten on the other side. Its eyes are huge, staring right back at me—pleading, begging me to take him or her home with me.

Hamzah scoffs. I’ve dragged him to the cat adoption center at the small mall in my hometown. I used to come here all the time as a kid, and when Hamzah and I came to visit during summer break, I had to bring him—to show him a piece of me.

“Blue and Red would be pissed if we came back with another cat,” Hamzah says. His cats tend to be territorial—they just started getting comfortable with me. I wonder how they’d feel about a new addition.

“They’ll get used to their new sibling, Hammie. Pleeease,” I beg, giving Hamzah the same pleading look the orange kitty gave me earlier. It worked on me—it should work on him.

Hamzah glares at me for a few seconds, his eyes flickering between me and the cat. We’re both on edge waiting for his answer. The silence is loud and I start to lose all hope.

Until finally, he sighs—defeated.

“Okay, fine—but I get to name him. Or her. What gender is it, anyway?” Hamzah says, walking toward the front desk to get help. I stroll behind him, grinning, raising my hand in the air, and letting out a small triumphant “Yes!”

After signing the papers and getting the full rundown on how to take care of a kitten, Hamzah and I took our new child and brought him back to my parents’ house. I was so excited, but Hamzah was silent the whole ride, deep in thought. I got worried—hopefully I hadn’t spoiled his mood by basically forcing him to get a new kitten. Then again, he wouldn’t have agreed if he didn’t want to.

“Hamzah, are you okay?” I ask quietly from the passenger seat.

“Hm? What? Yeah, I’m okay, baby. I’m just thinking about what I’m gonna name him,” Hamzah says, bringing his right hand to my upper thigh, gently rubbing. Butterflies swarm my lower stomach. I smile at his reassurance but start to wonder what name Hamzah’s going to give him.

“Don’t pick some fuck-ass name. If it’s bad, I’ll change it, I swear,” I say, staring at the side of Hamzah’s face with a warning glare.

“Don’t you worry. You know I’m good at this naming shit,” Hamzah replies, but I know he has something up his sleeve. I’m just waiting for him to come out and say it.

We played for hours with the kitten—showing him all his new toys, giving him lickable treats, putting his collar on, and even setting up a corner in my bedroom for him with a soft light blue blanket and bed. And still, Hamzah hadn’t revealed the name he’d chosen. It was getting later into the night, and I couldn’t take it anymore. He wouldn’t even give me a hint.

It was 12:00 now. Hamzah, our kitten, and I lay in bed—Hamzah’s arms wrapped around me as he gently stroked my hair. He kissed my forehead, then my nose, then my lips, and smiled at me. He was being so cute right now, his actions making me melt deeper into his arms. I blinked lazily, my eyes threatening to close at any minute… until I remembered.

“So, what are you gonna name him…” I asked reluctantly, nervous about Hamzah’s choice. He wasn’t exactly the most creative, and I just knew he was going to pick something different

“Purple,” Hamzah whispers in my ear.

I sat up quickly. “Oh, fuck no.”

purples actually not too shabby - leiasproductions

[spacecowboyy0]

bucky and nats clingy baby who just cuddles with them and watches bluey even when they really need to get to that meeting atp gotta bring the baby into the meeting and let them watch bluey on their phone

this is a wonderful prompt thank you so much i needed this!

notes: clint says fucker, bucky and nat aren’t dating! reader lives with them though, bucky uses sign language which is in italics (i hope that's clear)

~900 words

You had been attached to Bucky and Nat all morning, you always had one point of contact with one of them. You deserved this day off so you allowed yourself to be small and indulged in your clingy needs. So you held Mama’s hand as she made coffee, sat in Papa’s lap while breakfast was cooking, held onto Mama’s arm as Papa fed you, and then relaxed in between the two while you watched Bluey on the couch. 

They had hoped to get you tired enough so that you could sleep through the meeting they had at 12. So they shut off Bluey, and put on some soft music while Nat sat with you in the rocking chair. You relaxed against her, closing your eyes as you were lulled into a smaller headspace, but you still weren’t tired enough to fall asleep. Nat tried to put you down on the bed, but you whined and reached out for her again. 

It was time for plan b, so Nat let Bucky take over. He got you bundled up, put you in the baby wrap and went on a walk outside. You tended to need movement to fall asleep for naps, so he hoped that as he walked, you’d finally tire out. Even while you were cozy, soothed by his movements, and snuggled against your caregiver, you were still awake. There wasn’t a chance you’d let anyone babysit you, so they decided to bring you to the meeting. The deal was that you could come along with them so long as you listened and didn’t cause any trouble. 

~

So that’s where you are now, walking into the meeting room (holding Mama’s hand of course). When the three of you enter, you see Wanda, Bruce, and Steve already there. You wave to them shyly, smiling at Wanda. Bucky takes a seat, and pulls you onto his lap. Nat takes the seat beside him and hands you her phone and your noise cancelling headphones. 

“Here baby, you can watch your show.” Your eyes light up and take the items. The rest of the team filters in, taking seats around the table. You see Peter walk in from the corner of your eye, and you wave excitedly at him. 

“Hii!!”

“Hey cutie! We got our emotional support bug for this meeting?”

“Yup!” Steve begins talking and you begin the episode of Bluey.

~

Time goes by, and you start to get bored and restless. You pause the show, slip the headphones off your ears and put them on the table. You look up at Bucky.

“Papa, can I play Minecraft?” He shushes you but nods, so he doesn’t interrupt Steve. He signs to you. Do you know how to get to the game? You also know how to sign, but when you’re little it’s harder to sign fluidly so you respond out loud. 

“Papa it’s you who doesn’t know how to work a phone! Not me!” He laughs quietly and pokes your side which makes you giggle. Ok hush, play it then.

You load your recent world, the one where you are trying to find villages so you can get a white cat, just like Alpine. The meeting continues, and for the most part you tune out what is being said, looking up occasionally. 

“The fucker really screwed up our plans.” Nat covers your ears with her palms and Clint winces. “Oops sorry kid.” You give him a toothy smile and Bucky just rolls his eyes. You look back down to your game and start walking in the direction of a plains biome. 

You gasp when you see a village in the distance and sprint there. You look around the village, searching for a glimpse of white. Just behind one of the houses you see a white tail, and you walk slowly over to it, trying to not scare it away. You manage to have just enough fish to tame it. 

“Petey!” You lean over the table as far as you can, and turn the phone so he can see your screen. “Look, I finally found a kitty jus’ like Alpine!”

The two of you have a weekend routine of playing Minecraft so he knows your search for a white cat. Peter laughs and gives you a thumbs up. You can see Bruce and Wanda, who sit on either side of him, smile at you. Bucky pulls you back down and puts his arms around you so you stay put. Nat leans close to you and whispers.

“Bug I know you’re excited but you gotta stay quiet ok? That was our agreement hun.” 

“Sorry Mama.” She gives you a kiss on your cheek and then leans back into her chair. You’re quiet the rest of the meeting, focusing on taking your new cat back to your base, and then doing some mining. You look up when you hear chairs scraping across the floor, and shuffling. People get up and leave, but you see Peter look your way. 

“Bug, did you make any progress?”

“Yeah! Got the kitty home ‘n then found some diamonds!” 

“Sick! You’re leveling up!” You giggle, and turn Nat’s phone off and hand it to her. You turn around in Bucky’s lap so you face him. 

“We done Papa?”

“Yeah, come on sweetheart, I heard that Bruce is making a late lunch for the team.”

i love peter he's so brother

[cheriewoo]

This Kitten Purrs | Choi San ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 07 : Thigh Riding

↬ [ Synopsis ] : When tension runs high and nothing seems to work, you decide to throw one final bait for your roommate San to take, enlightening him of your desires. This time, he actually takes it, reciprocating with equal passion and intensity. Game night turns into a wild night of intense pleasure—riding thighs with hands and mouths everywhere, making this kitten purr.

Word Count : 1.6k Genre : Non-idol u, Smut, Angst. Pairing : Roommate! San x F.reader

WARNINGS : Pure smut(18+), both are switch!, dirty talk, dom/ sub undertones, dom san, sub fem reader, thigh riding, pet name(kitten), self pleasure, nipple play, biting.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 07 is here ma chéries ☆ and it's our kitty San's turn for some fun. A shorter one compared to my other fics, but I promise, it's not going to disappoint. Hope you enjoy it ma chéries.

Also, I successfully completed one week of Kinktober '24. Brb, gonna cry in a corner. I can’t believe I finally committed to something and am actually seeing it through. Thank you so much for all the love and support you've shown for this rookie kitten.

Wednesdays were always booked and busy for game night. Phones were on silent, snacks and drinks were on the table, the PS was plugged in, and the game was ready to begin. You, Yunho, San, and Mingi all crashed at your place, crowding on the couch while you comfortably perched on San’s lap.

You and San had always been so comfortable being physically touchy with each other, so it was normal for you to sit on his lap. Kissing on the cheeks, back hugs, forehead kisses, and sitting on his lap had become common occurrences around the house.

As your eyes were glued to the screen, your fingers moved swiftly over the controller. You all cheered with every kill, eating and drinking the evening away, not realizing five hours had passed.

Now, the final match began—the most intense 2v2 yet. San and you were on one team, with Yunho and Mingi on the other. The tension peaked as San gripped his controller, ready to give it his all one last time. Only, his team wouldn’t be winning. You wouldn’t let him.

Why? Because San had whined all afternoon, stubbornly against the idea of you going on a blind date with some random guy named Mingyu. “What if he turns out to be a serial killer?” he’d tried to convince you. “Can’t let the resident kitten get killed so early, now can we?” He pouted, smirking as mischief glinted in his eyes. You both knew these complaints were baseless and ridiculous.

Kitten? you scoffed. If anyone’s a pussy here,its him.

The real reason was his desire to have you all to himself, though he was too hesitant to make the first move. And, let's just say, you shared a mutual desire to have him too, especially since these blind dates were turning out to be disappointments. So, you decided to give him a cheeky little push,a bone to the hungry animal, curious if he’d take the bait.

If he did, the blind date was off.

Your plan was all set and ready to be executed as you shifted in San’s lap, seeming innocent, but your intentions were clear to you.

As the game raged on, you subtly rocked back and forth on his thigh, eagerly awaiting a reaction. His arms tightened around your waist, tension building with each movement, but he stayed quiet, trying to focus.

“Yah, are you trying to distract me?” San complained, his tone playful but strained, his lips forming a pout.

You laughed, your eyes still on the screen. “Me? Distract you? San, focus, please. We can’t let them win.” You smiled to yourself, knowing exactly what you were doing, continuing the subtle rocking with your goal in mind.

His grip tightened, and though he said nothing more, you could hear his breath hitch as his focus slipped the longer you kept moving. The game was already lost, but your game was well on its way to victory.

Just give in already, Sannie!

“Fuck!” San cursed loudly, tossing the controller aside as the victory screen flashed for the other team.

“Told you we’d win!” Mingi cheered, fist-bumping Yunho.

Yunho grinned. “Looks like someone got distracted” he teased, shooting a knowing look at you and San.

“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy it while it lasts.” San muttered, waving them off. “Next time, we’re winning,” he added smugly, confident in his future victory.

“We’ll see,” Yunho smirked, pulling Mingi along. “See you guys next week.”

San watched them leave, his eyes following as the door shut softly behind them.

“I’ll play with you later, Sannie,” you said as you got off his lap, pretending you had somewhere urgent to be. “Can’t keep Mingyu waiting all night, can I?” You turned, walking to your room to get ready for the blind date.

San's hands gripped your hips, pulling you back against him. His breath was hot against your ear, his voice needy. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? And now you want to leave for this date with some random dude?”

“Maybe I did,” you smirked, leaning back, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you traced your fingers slowly along his thigh. “But what are you going to do about it, Sannie?” you teased, your voice soft but daring, the challenge hanging in the air between you.

Piecing together the situation, a low, sultry chuckle escaped San’s lips as they brushed against the exposed skin of your shoulder. He bit down gently, a silent declaration that the challenge had been accepted. “Kitten needs to be punished.” he murmured, his voice dark with intent as his desires took over.

Got him right where you wanted. Now, the real fun started.

“Stand up” he commanded, a devilish smirk adorning his lips as his dominant side surfaced, his eyes darkening with desire. Blinking a few times, you smirked, and obeyed without hesitation, feeling the heat of his gaze as it roamed over you.

Dom San is hot!

Leaning back, San settled comfortably, his eyes locked on you. “Undress for me, kitten.” he said, his voice dripping with anticipation, waiting for your naked form to grace his view. You obeyed, the thrill of submitting to him already making you wet down south as your hands got rid of your tank top and shorts.

Your naked form, delicate yet extremely sexy, almost made him take you right then and there. But he wanted to devour you bit by bit, both for the sake of punishment and to fulfill the satisfaction of your cancelled date.

“Now,” he continued, his gaze locked on you, “touch yourself for me.” His words were heavy with desire, wanting to witness how you pleasured yourself. The memory of your moans from a few nights ago still lingered in his mind, those nights when you’d leave the door just slightly open, knowing he’d peek in, and your sultry cries of pleasure were loud enough for him to hear and brick up in his pants.

Your hands cupped your breasts, giving them a few squeezes that made San practically salivate, eager for a bite, maybe even a hard suck on those perky buds. Your fingers pinched your nipples, hardening them, ecstasy coursing through your body as you broke apart under his intense gaze. Pinching them harder, you gave a final tug before your juicy breasts bounced back to their original position with a jiggle.

Now, your hands traveled down south, every move diligently followed by San as his dick hardened in his pants. You tugged at the waistband of your lacy underwear, pulling it down quickly. As it fell to your feet, you began rubbing your wet core, soft moans escaping your lips as tremors ran through your body. Your fingers slipped inside your heat, the delicious stretch making you ache with frustration that it wasn’t his touch you were feeling. The frustration drove you to pump your fingers faster, slick gathering on your skin as the pleasure built, edging you closer to a heart-stopping release.

That’s it. San couldn’t wait any longer.

With one swift motion, he pulled you back onto his lap, capturing your lips as an urgent hunger consumed him, thanks to your little sexy performance. His grip on your hips tightened, his lips messily nibbling, occasionally biting your lower lip. “Move, kitten.” he commanded, and you moaned as he tugged at your lower lip, sucking and showing no mood to let go of your sexy mouth.

Without a word, you shifted in his lap again, your thighs pressing against his as you rocked forward, slowly testing the friction. The sharp intake of breath you heard from San was enough to encourage you further. You repeated the motion, deliberately this time, feeling his hardness beneath your hand.

“Fuck…” San breathed, his voice strained as he enjoyed the sensations erupting on thighs. His fingers dug into your hips, guiding your movements as you continued to grind against his thigh. The feeling of his thigh between your legs, combined with the strong grip of his hands, sent waves of pleasure through you.

Your pace quickened, your breathing becoming heavy as you chased the friction. San’s eyes were glued to your face, watching your blushy cheeks, your lip between your teeth, and your eyes rolled back as you lost yourself in the rhythm. His hands never left your hips, pushing and pulling you against him with just enough pressure to drive you closer to the edge.

“San…” you whimpered, feeling the tight knot in your stomach about to snap. He groaned, his hands gripping you even tighter, practically guiding you into each movement now.

“Cum for me, kitten.” he growled, his voice low and rough. “Can you do that for me, pretty? Will you let me take care of you?” His rough voice transformed into one filled with sweetness and care.

The duality pushed you over the edge snapping the knot as a wave of pleasure crashed over you. You gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as your body trembled with release. San’s name fell from your lips in a breathless moan as your movements slowed, riding out the high.

But was San done, though? Fuck No!

You could feel how hard he was, his arousal pressing hard against you hands. His breath was hot against your ear, his voice dripping with lust. “I’m not letting you off that easy. Ready for round two, kitten?”

With that, he carried you to his bedroom, and you still recovered from your high as excitement grew inside you in anticipation of the wild night that was about to come.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[bwobgames]

"We went to some waterfalls last year. They are some hidden beauty kind of thing we saw on tiktok, so we wanted to explore.

We set up our tents in an area that wasn't meant for camping.

We are kind of experts in the field so we didn't think much of it.

The place was... certainly cold. And rocky and... humid. The trek took a good amount of effort.

We had it , really! but um...

Things are not so easy at night

Paolo was my brother. He woke up in the middle of the night to get fresh air or something like that, i dont know, but.

He... he slip in the rocks and fell.

We found out in the morning"

Oliver tries his best to supress the picture that comes into his mind.

He fell. That's what they all said.

"Those waterfalls... We'll be passing through that area tonight"

“I… I’m kinda hoping to see him. I hope the train lets me see him”

"I hope he gets in"

Oliver cannot suppress the shiver that runs down his spine

“The news had a picture of us that was way too good for something so morbid”

He shows his phone background. It’s five friends taking a picture in front of a waterfall.

“Can I see the article?”

“Vivi!”

“Uh. My condolences. Can I see the article?”

“Sure, let me… Ah shit. No signal”

“What…?”

(No, no. Don’t Panic just yet. Breath in, Calm down, and Analyse. The BCA method.)

He looks out the window and sees nothing but trees

Ah. They left the city already. That was quick, not going into traffic really makes a difference.

Trains are awesome.

“We’re out of range for phone signal, I believe. We are out of the city. When we reach somewhere more urban, we should get it back”

Although he is not sure if this train is going to pass through any urban place like buses do. That would be incredibly efficient. Awful for this situation but he’s not going to blame the train for it.

Wait, is his love for trains the house’s effect? Wait, no, that could just be the autism. Did the train give him autism??

Much to discuss.

“Excuse me, sorry for us keeping you guys busy, I’m sure you are tired. Let me show you where the bedroom cabins are”

“(Ah! My manners!)”

“Thank you! This bag has been killing me!”

And so they leave.

“We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay! There’s no murderous maniac here. And it’s not that big of a place! I think. We’ll be fine”

Ángel is doing a commendable job keeping himself together

It’s… inspiring

“When has a house ever taken us down, yeah?”

“Yeah! We have the power of gay love!”

He suddenly looks at Vivi.

“And gay friendship!”

Vivi is… fixated on a photo.

“Vivi?”

“Hm? What? Yes? Gay love or something yeah? Yahoo!”

“What are you looking at?”

“Uh, nothing! It’s just… I really hate the lighting in this photo! That must be the house effect. Making me bad at lighting.”

“Uh. Anyways. Yeah, it’s probably nothing. Be right back!”

And so she leaves

He also didn’t realize the kids left as well. Is just him and Ángel now.

“I’ll see what she’s hiding. I have unbanned war tactics that will make her fess up”

“I don’t think the sad kitty eyes will work on her”

“No, no. That’s my tactic for you. I need to bring out different tactics with her. She’s a strong enemy”

They are always so dramatic those two.

He is a bit… saddened, That Vivi is hiding something from him. He’s never been that good at friendship, seeing Vivi and Ángel’s relationship got him wishing for something like that.

Of course, Ángel and Vivi have been friends since they were kids, and he only knows her for these last few years but-

He really hopes this is… something unrelated. And in no way reflective of his friendship with her.

He will trust. Because that’s what friends do.

“Stick with someone, please? Even if it’s just a worker, or stay in your room! Or- or the bathroom! Just-“

“I’ll be safe”

“…Yeah. Yeah, you always are”

“But if something happens, you scream, okay? Scream at the top of your lungs! Like you did at the Los Bunkers concert, okay?”

“I’ll keep it in mind. In case of danger, I ask for an encore”

“…I love you”

Ah! Sudden emotional attack! What a dirty trick!

“So just sit here and look pretty, okay? Be right back!”

Woah! Woahwoahwoah! Affection! Direct attack!

One day. One day he’ll stop reacting like a teen boy with a crush. And then he’ll see! Everyone will see!

“(…Maybe if we are quiet… surely the other cabins won’t hear, right…?)”

“(No, No. Bad Oliver. Wait until home. Where there’s showers and privacy)”

Willing his thoughts about his gorgeous boyfriend to settle, he plans his next move.

It’s 9 pm

<-PREV START NEXT->

[wings-of-ink]

How are you doin Lunan? Are you taking care of yourself? How are the little cats of yours? Want to share with us some pics?

Hello Nony!

I'm doing pretty well, and I really am making an effort to take care of myself, though I am still working on feeling a bit guilty over it (occupational hazard?). But I know it's important, especially these days, so I'm making time to read and chat with friends. I've connected with some wonderful people who really brighten my days too. Some days are a mixed bag. My partner has been going through some hard patches, and there's stress as work and such, but I'm not letting that control my life as much as possible.

Our kitties are little chaotic bundles of joy, lol. They're approximately a year old this month too! We don't have exact birthdays of course, but we think Arlo is older, especially since he tends to parent Miles. The shelter gave a couple dates for their birthdates, but we have opted to combine them to one that's in the middle of the two - 4/20 (and yes, we do make jokes about it, lol). I am happy to share some pics below the cut!

They are almost always together and we often see Arlo fussing over Miles. Miles has been affectionately nicknamed Gordy and also Chabwick most recently.

Arlo is the most chill cat in existence, I'm convinced. He will trust-fall into your lap and greet strangers like old friends. He loves to be held probably even more than scritches - he loves belly rubs specifically on his white patches. Arlo just wants to be close - especially around your neck. Arlo and I also share the same allergies apparently, so that's fun. Since spring is in swing here, we've been both been sneezing together, often in unison.

Timothy Gordon Chabwick Miles is a whole mood and an absolute unit. He has become very chatty and so much more social. In the first month, he wouldn't even get on the furniture with us and now he holds my legs while we sleep, lol. He's become so goofy and adorable. Wisdom is not his strong suit...but he sometimes makes up for it with surprising athleticism.

They team up against the evil squirrels that are plotting to take over the house.

Thanks for checking in, Nony! I hope you are well and that there's some critters around to brighten your days as well. ^_^