#originally posted on @plaided-ani

[plaid-maniac]

The fuckin irony of Edgeworth wanting to become a detective to find Phoenix but still not having enough resources because the police knew much less than he did originally. The irony of Nicholas not knowing why he tolerates this brand new detective who resents working with prosecutors and only wants to work on a decade-old missing person case but knowing that this is right somehow and not wanting anyone else as his detective. The irony that these two idiots who have desperately been looking for each other for more than half of their lives can stand five feet apart and not recognize the other. One because he has lost all knowledge of him, and the other because he has so much knowledge that he cannot see what’s right in front of him

[kotajose]

Hot mess clothing set

I had so many conversions planned for october and november but life got in the way to the point I haven't gotten any energy to play TS3 or any other game.

I had this conversion of Trillyke's Hot Mess set done a while ago and finished it today. There are some accesories in the set that I didn't convert and I'm thinking about it.

All the credits go to Trillyke, here you can go to the original post

If you want to have similar swatches from the original versions I recommend using plaid patterns, some of my favorites are from wandering sims.

Supernova Dress:

1 preset.

Recolorable.

Custom thumbnail.

Compressed.

Category: Everyday

Not valid for maternity

Not valid for randoms.

All LODs.

Download Patreon // SFS

Drama Top with arm warmers:

 1 recolorable preset plus 4 presets from the original.

Custom thumbnail.

Compressed.

Category: Everyday

Not valid for maternity

Not valid for randoms.

All LODs.

Download Patreon // SFS

Drama Skirt:

1 recolorable preset plus 2 from the original.

Custom thumbnail.

Compressed.

Category: Everyday

Not valid for maternity

Not valid for randoms.

All LODs.

Download Patreon // SFS

[pandapetals]

Shadows of the Past

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

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

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

word count: 27k

divider credit: @enchanthings

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guess not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded, his eyes softening. “Logan.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was empty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

William Stryker.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then, one day, he did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Logan. You had to warn Logan.

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

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

Logan hadn’t come back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was no answer.

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

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

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

But the house was silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was as if Logan had vanished into thin air.

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

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

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

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

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

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

Logan was gone, and no one knew where.

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

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

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

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

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

There, sitting alone at the bar, was Logan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

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

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

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

Logan had returned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With a deep sense of peace, you turned your attention back to preparing dinner, listening to the sound of your husband and daughter’s laughter filling the house. It was a sound you’d never grow tired of, a reminder of just how far you’d come and how much you’d overcome together.

[bunnyywritings]

extra credit assignment with the professor and honey bunny

PROFESSOR STEIN x F!READER

[a/n: sorry sorry! i'm falling behind...my motivation is waning BUT i am determined to finish this series so here's what should've been posted yesterday on my birthday ! professor stein will always be so fucking hot in my eyes...he can tie me down and dissect me any day lol anyways, once again: my use of the term 'little' has nothing to do with any body size or weight, this fic is also a little more on the 'plus size reader' side, sorry it just came out that way, i also dropped the ball and made him an ethics teacher instead of a bio/chem teacher like i originally thought...i blame @gojonanami and her amazing professor suguru series...i'm obsessed !!🫶🏼]

© bunnyywritings pls don't use my headers or writing without permission

wc: 3.1k words

WARNINGS: teacher/student dynamic (OF AGE), power dynamic, age gap, "shy" reader, skewed descriptions of ethics cause i googled and read like two things, sir kink, hair pulling, cowgirl, stein bends you over his desk, mating press, breeding kink, creampie, no use of y/n, reader is called: bunny, sweetheart, good girl, sweet girl, honey

“You need my measurements?” You asked, not sure if you heard him right. “What for?” 

“Well for your outfit, of course.” He chuckled, finding it amusing that you had already forgotten what the two of you had spoken about.Especially when your confusion led to a small lull of silence on the line. 

“Oh…oh right! Right, the whole school girl thing…uh okay-” You rattled them out and he wrote them down, scrolling through the website on his laptop to try and find the right look for you. 

When you two finally met, you were pleased with the tasteful outfit he had chosen. It looked like a legitimate look you’d wear to school. The light brown plaid skirt was paired with a white button up, a knit sweater vest, sheer pantyhose and brown loafers. 

He was sat behind a gorgeous mahogany desk, a small smile on his lips. “Have you ever done a scene like this?” You were flicking through the short script he had given you…more of a guideline really. 

“Uhmm n-no, not as in depth as this or with a partner. I did it for a live cam once…” You blushed, feeling somewhat insecure beneath his gaze. 

Stein was one of the more seasoned creators on the platform. His production quality was always high and his scenes balanced with both porn and plot. He was also extremely attractive. His dyed silver locks framed his face beautifully, his eyes reminded you of green sea glass as they sat behind his silver eyewear and his build…God. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders and thick arms. His hands were big, lithe fingers just the right amount of thickness, knuckles prominent against his smooth, pale skin. 

Not to mention the age gap between the two of you…the power dynamic was going to be a little more believable when he was 14 years older than you. 

“You ready, sweetheart?” 

“Mhmm, yes…Professor.” 

And so, you stepped out of his office. Standing at the door for a good minute or two before rapping your knuckles against the shining wood. 

“Come in!” His voice was muffled but you took your cue and pushed the door open, making sure to shut it softly behind you. “Ah, bunny! Come on in, have a seat.” He gestured to the cushioned seat in front of his desk. His smile was soft as you stood by the door for a few moments before finally moving. 

“R-Right. Thank you, P-Professor.” You gingerly sat in the seat, back straight and stiff as you tugged the hem of your skirt. 

“So, what brings you to my office hours, hmm?” 

“Uhm well, I-I hate to admit it but I’ve been h-having a little trouble with our uhm, our new unit…” 

“Oh! Well, no need to be embarrassed, Kantism is a challenging subject. What exactly were you having trouble with?” 

“Categorical imperatives…” You shift your eyes away, cheeks flushing. 

“I see…well-” He starts to ramble on with the definition, rubbing his chin as he did so and you found it difficult to not stare at his fingers. “-does that make sense?” 

You blink yourself out of your daze before nodding, “I-I’m following.” 

A subtle smirk tugs his lips as he continues. “Kant also says that there are three different moral actions-” You wring your hands in your lap, playing up the nervous, jumpy act. As he continues to explain how utilitarianism plays a part in this subject, you tune back in. “That should be a bit more clarifying for you.” You nodded eagerly. “Did you have any other questions? Kant or otherwise?” 

“Y-yes actually.” You bit your lip, eyes widening as you clarified. “Not-not about Kant! I uhm…I was hoping to ask about some…extra credit opportunities?” He frowned, head tilting to the side. “My uhm, my grade isn’t where I-I’d like it to be…” You trailed off, eyes dropping to read the name placard displayed on his desk. He turns to his laptop, ‘typing and scrolling’ before the tension in his forehead releases. “Ah, a B- isn’t so bad, is it?” 

“W-Well no but I…I would like to keep my grade point average and grad-graduate summa cum laude…” 

“Hmm right, right…an understandable goal.” He closed his laptop, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Has my unit been so difficult that you’re falling behind? Is everything alright?” The slight twinge of concern in his voice made your thighs clench. Something that did not go unnoticed. 

“I’m sorry, Professor. I just seem to be dis-distracted…lately.” Your confession leaves him amused and you with bright, flushed cheeks. 

“Distracted?” He leans forward, elbows resting on the top of the desk, his chin in his palm. “I see…is it a boy, perhaps?” 

“N-No!” You grip the fabric of your skirt. “No…I uhm-I’m not seeing any-anyone.” 

His eyebrows jump. “Really? Forgive me for saying so but, surely you have boys throwing themselves at you?” 

A quiet, almost nervous laugh leaves your lips. “Yeah…n-no. Not that I’d really want the attention from guys here…guys my age, they uhm…well, they tend to be vulgar and simple minded.” 

“Hmm, yes, I suppose you’re right.” A silence lingers after his words. “A pretty, intelligent little thing like you should be treated with reverence.” 

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers, squeaking out a, “Professor…” 

“Ah right, forgive me. That was highly inappropriate”. He sighed. “So, extra credit…I usually don’t make it a habit to offer it, since students use it as an excuse to lag behind-” He catched how your lips drop into a pout, eyes glistening with unspoken pleas. “But, if you tell me what’s been so distracting as of late, maybe we can come up with a solution to help you out, hmm? You’re a bright student and I’d hate to be the reason you lose your sheen.” 

You shake your head with earnest. That’s the worst thing you could do…how could you possibly tell him that-

“There’s no need to be shy, hmm? We’re both adults here and I’ve been teaching for years, I’m sure I can stomach it.” 

You mumble out a reason, as quiet and jumbled as you could, hoping to God that he’d give up and drop the subject. Your eyes trained in your lap in fear that you might give it away. Your deepest, darkest, secret…

He stands, rounding the desk and leaning on the edge of it. Gently but firmly, he grips your chin and forces you to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t quite catch that…” His thumb caressed the skin below your bottom lip and you had to fight the urge to tilt your head down and take his digit between your lips. 

“S’you…s-sir.”

“I’m sorry, come again?” 

“It’s you, s-sir!” And oh, the way your lips wrapped around the honorific made his dick twitch against his slacks. 

“Is that right?” He felt like a fox playing with his dinner, the way your wide eyes stared up into his, begging to be devoured whole. 

“Y-yes…” 

He gripped your chin tighter, ignoring the whine that left your throat as he growled a hoarse. “Yes, what?”

“Yes sir!” 

“Hmm good…” He sneered. “What exactly is it about me that’s so distracting?” He hummed, removing his hand from your chin, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Y-You can’t ask-ask me something like that…”

He chuckled, “Of course I can…and I expect an answer.” His eyes darkened lustfully. “So tell me, bunny. What’s distracting?” 

You fidgeted in your seat, fingers clenching the fabric of your skirt again. “Uhm…y-your voice…your hands-” 

He found it hard to resist a scoffed laugh and in the blink of an eye he stood behind you, leaned over just above your shoulder. “You like my voice?” His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his silky voice sending shivers down your spine and a rush of heat to your core. “Do you rewatch my lectures when you’re in your room? Touch that pretty pussy to the sound of my voice, hmm?” His lips pressed a feather light kiss behind your ear as you whined and as he trailed down your neck, the messier they got. His lips were surprisingly soft, massaging the sensitive skin at the hollow of your neck. 

You tilted your head back against his shoulder, opening yourself up to him. “Why don’t you show me.” He reached around the sides of the chair and roughly gripped your thighs watching as your flesh squished between his fingers, splitting your legs open for him and before you could even think to protest, a loud rip! filled the office. He had torn the crotch of your sheer pantyhose to reveal your soaked panties. “Is this all for me? You’re soaked…” He tsked, pushing your panties aside and tugging your folds open, caressing your pulsing clit with barely there touches. 

“Mhmm, all-all for you, sir…s’yours, all yours.” You keened at his gentle touches, hips twitching and desperate for more friction. 

“Then be a good girl and show me how you touch yourself to my voice.” You replaced your hands with his, starting to circle your bud in slow, soft circles, a drawn out moan leaving your glossed lips. 

“Good girl…” He purred. “Now suck on my fingers, show me how much you love my hands…that’s it.”

You wrapped your lips around his fingers, tongue swirling around his cold digits in earnest before taking them deeper into your mouth, gagging softly when his fingertips met the back of your throat before pulling back and taking them back in.

As you began to bob your head on his fingers, he couldn’t help pawing himself through the front of his gray slacks. His precum, no doubt staining the front of the fabric. “Oh look at you! Such a shy and prude girl, getting herself off while choking on her Professor’s fingers…fuck.” Your thighs twitched as you neared your first orgasm, sucking on his fingers bringing you more arousal than you thought possible. 

“Don’t even think about it.” He almost snarled, shoving his fingers roughly to the back of your throat. Your shoulders jolting as a particularly harsh gag wracked through your body. “Put your hands by your side.” Reluctantly, you did as instructed and he pulled his fingers from your mouth, giving your poor lungs a reprieve. 

As you attempted to catch your breath, he wrapped your hair around his fingers and pulled roughly, the action pulling you up from your seat before he was shoving you towards his desk. “Ahh! P-Professor!” With his fist still tugging at your locks, he bent you over and pushed your head down against the desk, your cheek landing harshly on a notebook and a few stray papers. 

“I’ve got to say…you’ve been quite the distraction as well. Always sitting in the front of my class, chewing on your lips or your pens-” He unbuckled his belt, popping his trousers open and letting them drop down around his thighs. “Always in your cute little outfits and short skirts.” He flipped your skirt over your ass. “I’ve dreamed of having you bent over my desk, creaming all over my cock.” He stroked himself a few times before tapping his heavy tip against your stocking covered ass. 

Not being able to help it, you wiggle your hips tauntingly. He groaned, “Oh just look at you…” He muttered before grasping the base of his cock and lining himself up with your entrance.

Your nails dug into the wood of the desk as he pushed himself in. Entranced with the way you seemed to be sucking him in, inch by agonizing inch, your poor pussy being stretched to accommodate his girth. You tried to push yourself further up the desk in an attempt to get respite from his sweltering length. 

“Nuh uh…don’t run, sweet girl. Don’t run…” He roughly gripped your hips and pulled you back onto him, sheathing himself entirely in your warm, gummy walls. “Stay right there.” 

Stein was brutal, bullying his dick into you repeatedly, meeting your womb in a deliciously painful kiss so much so that you lost track of time. “S’too much! T-Too…much!” 

Completely ignoring your cries, he snapped his hips once more and stilled them against your behind, pulling you with him as he sat in the chair you had been previously sitting in, situating you on his lap.“You wanted extra credit, right?” 

“Y-Yes sir…but-” 

“Then put in the work, bunny.” He brought his hand down in a rough slap against your ass cheek. “Show me how much you deserve that A.” 

Arching your back, you leaned forward and rested your hands on the tops of his thighs. Taking a deep breath, you lifted yourself slowly. Making it only halfway up before dropping yourself back down. It only took two thrusts before your legs were threatening to give out. The pleasure was overwhelming, Steins low moans and grunts only adding fuel to the fire. 

“S-Stein! I’m- M’gonna…!” You dropped back down on his length, back hunching over as your orgasm ripped through your entire body, mind reeling as you completely forgot to play up the whole ‘sir’ thing while Stein’s grip tightened around your waist so you didn’t fall over. 

Stein brushed your hair over your shoulder, pressing gentle kisses to the nape of your neck, tongue licking up the salty perspiration gathered there. “Shhh…shh, that’s a good girl…I made you feel that good, hmm?” 

A delirious giggle left your lips as you let Stein pick you up, inhaling sharply as he pulled out of you, your release dripping down his, still painfully hard, cock and onto the trimmed blonde hair at its base. 

Gaining a second wind, you shoved his name placard and a few other things aside before sitting on his desk, reaching for the hem of your sweater vest and tugging it off over your head along with your button up shirt and mindlessly tossing it aside. He watched hungrily as you kicked off your skirt and widened your thighs, the heels of your loafers resting on the edge of his desk. Your folds were dripping with arousal, your skin flushed and puffy as you clenched around nothing. 

“C’mon Professor, don’t keep your favorite student waiting…” 

Scoffing, he shrugged his tweed jacket off and you started to salivate. His mock neck shirt was short sleeved and tight. Almost like it was painted on him. His biceps bulged deliciously against the thin fabric, the urge to run your tongue across the veins running down his arms was strong but you held onto whatever self control you had left and waited for him to make his way between your legs. 

“And who said you were my favorite student?” A wet slap! slap! echoed his words as he tapped his tip against your clit. 

“You do this with all your students then?” You whined. “That’s no fair…” A pout tugged at your lips. 

He laughed softly, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender embrace, biting your bottom lip before pulling away. “I’m just teasing, bunny. You are, by far, my favorite…student.” He punctuated his statement by snapping his hips forward and burying himself into your sloppy core. 

“Ah-!” You lost your balance and landed onto the desk with a soft thump against the wood. He gripped the bottom of your thighs and pushed your legs up and folding you in half, straight into a mating press. The fabric of your pantyhose tightening against your skin.

His desk creaked with each of his heavy thrusts, scraping against the hardwood floor once or twice. “God, it was like this cunt was made for me! She’s swallowing me up so well…so warm…n’wet!” 

Your eyes rolled back in your head, the press he had you in made it feel like he was quite literally rearranging your insides, your mind quickly growing fuzzy and clouded with thoughts of his huge, thick cock and the way his scent enveloped you entirely as he leaned over to plant kisses down your neck, no doubt sucking marks into it. 

Stein felt himself twitch inside you as he gazed down at you. Your face was screwed up in pleasure, lips glossy with spit and parted as moans and whimpers fell from your lips. “Let me see those pretty eyes, honey. Come on.” Your eyelids fluttered open, lined with tears and the pretty color of your iris was swallowed up by your blown out pupils, hazy with euphoria. 

He shifted your hips and slipped deeper into you, if it was even possible, and found that spot that made you see stars. You fought to keep your eyes on him as you became consumed by one thing only. Your second orgasm. 

“Fuck…I-” He whimpered as you clamped down around him. “I-I’m gonna cum…” He groaned, attempting to keep a steady pace to bring you over the edge with him. “Where-?” He grunted, choked with pleasure. 

“Inside me, please! I want- fill me up, sir…p-please -!” Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream, your release shaking your body, thighs burning as your legs shook. Overstimulation creeping up on you as he chased his end. 

“Want me to breed this pretty little cunt? Huh? Make you a momma for extra credit?”

“Y-Yes! Yes!” You started to babble, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. 

His moans became hoarse, desperate whimpers, hips twitching before he stilled in you. Balls tightening as he emptied his load into you. A full, warm feeling taking over your body as your chest heaves to catch your breath. 

He pulled out with a hiss, watching his spend trickle out of you before fucking it back into you with his fingers, laughing softly as you whimpered. Your hips twitch to get away from him, and he apologizes. 

“M’sorry bunny, don’t want it to go to waste…” He then eased your legs down around his waist, massaging his fingertips into your tense skin. He watched in amusement as you leaned forward, lips pursed subtly and he met your lips. Exchanging a few kisses before easing you to sit up and wrapping his arms around you, cuddling you into his chest.

“I’d say that’s earned you an A+...” 

You cackled against his chest. “Yeah, it better have.” 

subscribers:

@seireiteihellbutterfly @xxstarlightxx @indieburn

[shinidamachu]

kagome higurashi, occupation: it girl

We're constantly talking about what a fashion icon Kagome is, but I haven't seen many actual analyses of her style or how it got translated from the manga to the anime, so I thought it was a fun, innocuous discussion to have this @inuvember. I'm not an expert on the subject by any means, but here's a compilation of my observations.

The first thing I noticed is probably the most obvious: she thoroughly enjoys showing off her legs, which she does by wearing an obscene amount of skirts, rarely jeans and never shorts, not even as a PJ.

The interesting detail is that she mostly pairs them off with a top that would completely cover her arms and shoulders, which is smart because puts her legs even more in evidence and brings an elegant balance to it. Sundresses seem to be the only exception to that rule:

Now, when it comes to prints, the anime left me the impression that she favors solid blocks of colors rather than especific patterns, but comparing to the manga it's easy to see that's just not true.

Not only does Kagome rock any print she wears, she also seems to have a preference for plaid variations.

Sadly we only got to see in the anime through the sundress above and the iconic Day of Days outfit (the high school uniform doesn't really count).

She likes her flowery patterns as well, although that's only really a thing in the manga. Of course, I understand Sunrise probably toned down this aspect of her clothing choices to make them easier to animate, but we can still mourn it.

The next one is particularly sad to me because it was one of my all time favorite manga outfit of hers and they replaced it with one she had used before in The Soul Piper and the Mischievous Little Soul.

The same outfit was recycled again in Sota’s Brave Confession of Love. It was literally copy and past, except for the colors.

And to add insult to injury, this was the original look:

Another thing that was pointed out by @kagomehigurashi in this amazing post is that her "stay at home" clothes are incredibly versatile: she can go from very fashionable sweaters to her fun SHAM shirt collection just like that. But when she goes out, she goes all out.

Overall, I think we can conclude that her wardrobe was pretty colorful. Especially in the anime, there's not a lot of black, if any, and Kagome tends to go for pastel. She also seems to be a big fan of overlaying: her outfits are often completed with cardigans, coats or jackets.

Plus, I'd say comfort is a priority for her. The vast majority of her clothes don't seem restricting at all and her shoes consist basically on loafers, sneakers and ballet flats. Even the heel we saw her wear once was of a wedge type.

She rarely uses accessories, but she limits herself to one or two when she does. It's usually a purse and some jewelry or belt (at least in the manga). Her hair is always down except for the occasional braid (also only in the manga), PE ponytail and bath bun.

It could have been interesting if Takahashi had also used Kagome's fashion sense to showcase how much she changed during her journey, but Kagome's style remained extremely consistent. I guess she found it very early on what she was about. I'd describe it as romantic boho, but I don't even know if that's a thing.

What I do know is that it was far from basic, that she appeared to be having a lot of fun expressing herself throught it and that it felt more mature in the manga, even if most of them are just covers or bonus art.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Hiii! Tsunami fic is so fucking good. How long do u think it's gonna be, like how many chapters do you plan? And if u still taking make me write's here🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

Hiiii anon! Thank you so so much! I was originally planning three chapters, but now it's leaning more towards four! And while it's going to be a full story on its own, I'm also planning a sequel that will probably be longer.

Yes, I am definitely still taking 'make me write's! Here are 20-ish sentences of tsunami for you! I hope ch. 2 will be finished and posted later today, so stay tuned for that!

And thank you so much for the ask, I'm lovin to see how much people are liking tsunami fic! - 🌊 (cont. from here)

“I… You don’t get it, man. I have to find her.” He says, his voice breaking, and Eddie feels for him, he truly does. He sits by the man’s side, and he eyes Eddie suspiciously; Eddie’s sure he knows exactly the kind of tactics that are used to calm down those who are about to have a breakdown, but he’ll try to apply them anyway. 

“What’s your name, man?” He asks, and the guy’s glare confirms to him that yes, he’s on to Eddie. 

“Look, don’t give me this ‘calm down’ crap, ok? I’m not a patient” He grumbles, and Eddie rolls his eyes. 

“Yes, you are, whether you like it or not. You hit your head pretty hard out there, dude. You won’t be any help to your niece if you pass out in the street while looking for her” Eddie reasons, and the man crosses his arms, but doesn’t argue, because he probably knows Eddie’s right. “Now, if you give me your name and your station, we can try and get some of your guys to look for her”

“It’s Deluca. I’m with the 122” He grumbles begrudgingly. “And what’s your station?”

Eddie is about to answer that he’s with the 118 when Deluca widens his eyes as if he’s seen a ghost, the little color that he’s gotten back leaving his cheeks. Eddie follows his gaze to find a man frantically looking around, dressed in a plaid shirt and with eyes as desperate as Deluca’s. 

“Oh my God, why is he here?!” Deluca exclaims, and his tone is urgent. 

Eddie is on alert instantly, but he doesn’t have time to react anymore. The other guy has spotted them and is coming in their direction with quick and desperate steps. 

“Sal!” He exclaims, holding Deluca’s shoulders with a tight grip, looking at him intensely, his expression an uncanny mix of relief and despair. “Are you alright?! What happened?!”

“Tommy”, Deluca says desperately, his hand reaching out to grab the other man’s arm, his eyes filled with tears. “Tommy, listen to me, I am so sorry. We… S-she asked me to come to the pier, she w-wanted a unicorn! And then…”

[yellowjacketsfashion]

Do u think they’ll play the bonus ep with the upcoming szn? What are ur theories?

The bonus episode was originally planned to air between seasons 2 and 3 but it seems like it’s postponed for the time being. Based off this Entertainment Weekly article it appears that the current plan isn’t for the episode to air before the new season on February 14th.

If it won’t air before the new season it might air after or maybe with one of the later episodes. Based on what Lyle said though it doesn’t sound like it’s completely off the table.

As to what the episode is about, there’s a couple things that suggest to me the potential plot:

(Warning: There are two images below featuring fake blood, one of which is of an article of clothing and the other with a fake dead wolf.)

The two black and white photos below show Jason Ritter on set for the second season of Yellowjackets. Before the season aired he was announced as a guest star but ultimately he wasn’t featured in any of the content released so unless his scenes were cut, I think it’s very likely that he plays a character in the bonus episode.

While the photos are in black and white, Jason Ritter appears to be wearing the plaid wool coat that was repeatedly worn throughout the season.

In an interview with Digital Spy, costume designer Amy Parris said the coat “(is) on purpose meant to look super warm and not a part of the suitcases of the Yellowjackets that flew out there. So this is something the audience will um, it will be revealed to them in future episodes where the like origin of this jacket comes from… It’s a very fun plot reveal when we find out where it comes from.”

Ultimately though this origin was not seen in any of the released season 2 episodes. Much like the exclusion of Jason Ritter, while the coat’s origin could’ve been in a deleted scene, I think it’s more likely the “origin” is seen in the bonus episode.

As to who Jason Ritter plays specifically, I believe he is the Cabin Guy whose body was found in the attic (and who was previously portrayed by William Charles Vaughan). My guess is that the bonus episode is the backstory to the Cabin and its previous inhabitants, such as Cabin Guy and the Baby.

Both the previous behind the scenes photos came from an Instagram account for the young twin actresses who are seen with Ritter. I’m assuming they played the same character as that’s what’s common for babies who act in film but it seems as though they might be playing the Cabin Guy’s child.

The baby is mentioned in the script segment below from 02x07 as well as an additional character that might be featured in the Bonus Episode:

In this snippet Van finds a page from a “manuscript” written by a character called the “Wife.” It seems like between the photos with Jason Ritter and when the page was written, something happened to the baby and the Wife is mourning that loss.

In coping with what happened to her baby, it seems like she’s seeking comfort in the Wilderness (and describes an entity similar to the one Lottie and the other Yellowjackets talk about).

I’m not sure what happens to the Wife but I was able to find a potential piece from her wardrobe!

This photo came from the Harper’s Bazaar article about the costumes in season two and it it described as “a bloodied robe from on set.” As far as I recall this robe wasn’t otherwise used in season 2 and stylistically I feel like it looks like it could be from the 70s (which is what I’ve seen people generally theorize as the timeframe when Cabin Guy was alive).

Could the robe belong to the Wife? Maybe she meets a grisly fate or maybe the blood has something to do with the loss of her child?

Speaking of blood, there was a post on Instagram from @mastersfxstudios (the group who does special fx for the show) of a dead wolf prop they made for season 2 (as seen below):

Like most of the other things I’ve mentioned, the wolf isn’t otherwise seen in the episodes from season 2 and therefore could be featured in the Bonus Episode. The photo also features a lack of snow which would be strange if it was used in the teen timeline as I’m pretty sure they’re surrounded by snow for the entirety of the 2nd season.

Perhaps the wolf was killed by Cabin Guy or is otherwise found by him or his wife? Maybe the blood on the robe is connected to the wolf or maybe it suggests the wolves might play a bigger role in the episode?

I think it’s especially interesting that the wolf is entirely white as it reminds me of the white moose that plays an important role in the teen timeline during the second season.

There’s still a lot we don’t know about the bonus episode but it’s definitely cool nonetheless! What about you guys, what do you think about the Bonus Episode?

[candycandy00]

Roses in the Sky - An Original Alien x Reader Story Part 7

In a future where humanity huddles in decaying domed cities controlled by alien invaders, you and your best friend Anna work as make-shift nurses in a tiny clinic run by the young doctor Terrian. The city is ruled by the aliens' violent, half-breed offspring who serve as brutal overseers. You and Anna have always tried to avoid these overseers at all cost, but your life is changed when one of those same terrifying offspring is brought into the clinic, injured and unconscious.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

This is an original Alien (well half alien) x Fem Reader story! I hope everyone who enjoys my fanfiction will give this a shot! Any feedback whatsoever would be loved! I’ve already written this story so it’s not going to delay my fanfics. Just thought I might post chapters of this between fanfics if anyone is interested.

Slow burn, as this is a novel-length story, but there will be smut in later chapters! Also: violence, blood, rape attempts, death of side characters, etc.

Terrian was standing in a chair changing a light bulb when you reached the first upstairs bedroom. He was wearing jeans and a plaid button-up shirt that clung to his body. His feet were bare, and it was the first time you had ever seen him without his hair pulled back. With his glasses off, lying folded on the bed, and his hair falling across his shoulders, he almost looked like something from the cover of a romance novel. You were surprised that he could be so handsome.

When he noticed you, he jumped down from the chair and grinned, instantly shattering the previous image as he was missing a few front teeth, a result of the attack on the clinic, and suddenly looked very ridiculous. He pulled on his glasses and reached for a package on the bedside table. He reached it to you with a wide smile.

You opened it and reached your hand in, pulling out the pieces one at a time and laying them across the bed. Among them was a short black skirt with white ruffles underneath and a small black top with white lace trim. There were black stockings, white gloves, and a black choker-style necklace.

"Go ahead, try it on!" Terrian said brightly.

You gave him a dirty look. "It's disgusting."

"It's adorable! Didn't you see how cute Anna looked?"

"You're such a pervert,” you said, rolling your eyes at him. 

"Oh, come on. Give an old man something pretty to look at while he bides his time."

You frowned. "You're twenty-nine."

Terrian laughed and exited the room, shutting the door behind him. You locked it, then changed into the costume. It really wasn't as bad as you and Anna made it seem. In fact it actually was cute. But complaining endlessly about the uniforms he picked out was just another way to joke around. Another way to keep your minds from thinking about the world around you.

You walked outside, where Terrian and Anna were waiting in the hall. Terrian practically squealed with delight when you emerged, hugging you tightly.

"So what do we have to do?" you asked, shoving Terrian away.

He handed you and Anna each a sheet of paper. "That's your list of chores. Do them together or split up, it's up to you. Just finish it by the end of the day!"

You groaned as you looked over the list. It was huge and full of lengthy tasks. The two of you decided to do the work together, and as you scrubbed down the bathroom walls, you told Anna about Vartan.

Anna dropped the rag she was holding. "So he's staying at your house? Sleeping on your couch?!"

"Yeah."

"And you're okay with that?"

You stopped working. "I don't have much choice, do I? You said it yourself, we owe him big time. He came to me for help. I couldn't just make him leave."

"That's true. But be careful, he's still dangerous."

"He, uh, promised not to do anything to me,” you said. 

Anna's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," you replied, "and he explained why half-breeds are such hormonal monsters. Turns out they're not allowed to mate with each other, and they were raised to believe that all humans want is sex."

"Wow. That does explain a lot."

You picked up Anna's rag and reached it to her, then picked your own up and returned to scrubbing the wall. "Anyway, I guess he'll be staying with me for a while."

Anna was still watching you. "Are you falling in love with him?"

You faced her. "Of course not! He's a half-breed!"

"But he's different. Haven't you noticed? He acts almost human."

"Yeah, maybe," you answered, focusing on the wall again. You had noticed, but you were trying not to think too much about it. He could turn on you at any moment, and you’d only be hurt if you’d started to think of him as human. 

The day carried on and the two of you worked hard, cleaning and scrubbing and dusting. In the afternoon Terrian called you to the kitchen where he gave you and Anna lunch. You explained the situation with Vartan, and all he had told you, to Terrian.

"You don't seem very surprised," you said when Terrian had little reaction to your story.

He laughed nervously. "Oh, it's very surprising. I just didn't know what to say."

You and Anna looked at each other suspiciously, but then shrugged and returned to your work. You made your way through the upstairs bedrooms, and at the end of the hall came to a set of stairs leading to the third story of Terrian's house. Anna looked over the sheet of paper. "The third floor isn't on the list. I don't think we have to clean it."

"Maybe he just forgot to write it down," you said.

"Or maybe he doesn't want us up there."

You looked at Anna. "Why not? You think he has secrets?"

Both you and Anna stared at each other for a moment before grinning. "Okay, we have to go up there now!" Anna said, starting up the stairs. You glanced back down the hall to make sure Terrian wasn't around, then followed Anna.

The third floor was dark and dusty, and all the doors were shut. They looked as if they'd been closed off for years. You felt a tiny bit guilty for exploring an area he hadn't told you to enter, but then again, he hadn't specifically told you not to go up there either. Suddenly Anna nudged you.

"Look, there's light coming from under that door."

The very last door on the right side of the hall was closed, but indeed there was light visible beneath it. The two of you crept up to the door quietly and pressed your ears against it. You listened for a moment, hearing nothing.

Before another second passed, a feminine voice from the other side of the door said, "Terrian?"

You jumped back, looking at Anna in shock. She wore a similar expression. You nodded to her, and Anna slowly twisted the doorknob. She then flung the door open and both of you peered inside. You gasped, your hands over your mouth.

In a bed in the center of the room laid an incredibly beautiful half-breed. Her hair was auburn, hanging long in soft waves that dangled from the sides of the bed. One eye was aqua blue and the other was so dark brown it seemed black. She was dressed in a pink frilly night gown, something Terrian had obviously chosen. But the horrifying part was that from the knees down, she had no legs. There was an iv hooked up to her right wrist, and she looked frighteningly weak.

Her eyes grew large when she saw you and Anna. She reached a hand toward you, and the two of you shrieked as you dashed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind you. As you ran back to the second floor, you faintly heard a small voice calling for you to wait.

You and Anna stood on the second floor, panting. "Who was that?!" you asked, still unable to get over the shock.

"It was a half-breed, but she looked so weak! Do you think Terrian is holding her prisoner here?"

You shook your head. "No, he's not like that! He always makes excuses for half-breeds. He wouldn't hurt a flea!"

Anna had flopped down into a sitting position on the stairs leading to the first floor. "We think that, but what if we're wrong? What if she's the half-breed who killed his father or something? What if he captured her and he's performing experiments on her to learn about half-breeds and ultimately take revenge?"

Your hands were on the sides of your head, clutching your hair. "And what if, now that we've seen her, he'll kill us to make sure we never tell?!"

Terrian stepped into view at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at them. "What are you girls talking about?"

Anna jumped up and eyed him nervously. "Nothing," she said, "we're not talking about anything."

"Oh? But I thought I heard-"

You took a deep breath. "Anna, we should tell him. She'll tell him anyway if we don't."

Terrian's eyes widened. "She?"

"We saw her," Anna said, looking down.

"Her?" Terrian asked, sweat beads forming on his brow.

"The half-breed," you answered. "The one you keep on the third floor."

Terrian paled and gripped the railing on the stairs. "Oh... God... you really saw her?"

"I'm sorry!" Anna said. "We shouldn't have gone to the third floor without asking you! We promise we won't tell anyone!"

"Yeah, we'll never breathe a word of it to another soul!" you cried.

Terrian suddenly seemed to regain his composure, and he began walking up the stairs, his eyes downcast. "Well, it's too late now. You've seen her."

You and Anna looked at each other in horror, then watched as he approached. You flinched when he reached you, but he simply walked on by, toward the stairs leading to the third floor. He turned to look at you over his shoulder. "Come on up, we'll explain everything."

"We?" you asked.

"Nariah and I.”

You glanced at Anna again before the two of you slowly, cautiously followed him back up the stairs. You ended up back in the room you had found the half-breed in, and she looked up brightly when you entered the room. "Oh, Terrian, so you know they found me," she said.

He nodded, smiling to her. "It's alright. They won't tell anyone about us."

He looked back to you. "This is Nariah," he said, gesturing toward the half-breed. "And Nariah, these are my nurses. Well, maids now."

Nariah smiled. "I'm glad to finally meet you. Terrian has told me so much about you two."

You were stunned. Anna was speechless. 

You struggled to find words, finally asking, “Terrian, what is she doing here?"

He sat down on the edge of the bed and took Nariah's hand. The casualness of it all made you feel dizzy. "I found her in an alley two years ago," he began. "A group of half-breeds had torn off her legs and left her there to die. My first instinct was to walk away and pretend I hadn't seen her. One less half-breed to worry about, right? Back then, I was still bitter. But something told me to help her. I secretly brought her to my home and bandaged her wounds. She was unconscious for three days, but when she awoke, she explained her situation."

Nariah took over from there. "I got into an argument with several of my kind, and they called me a traitor. They intended for me to die in the alley, and I feared that if they ever found me alive, they'd immediately kill me. That's why, when Terrian offered to let me stay here with him, I accepted."

"Nariah isn't like other half-breeds," Terrian told you, "Well, she was at first, but over the past two years she's become so much more human than Pagoda. I hardly think of her as a half-breed anymore. To me, she's just a lady who needs caring for."

Nariah smiled up at him, and to you they resembled a couple who had been married for years. 

Anna's hands were shaking. "That's why you always defend their behavior," she said accusingly. "That's why you feel more comfortable around them. You've been living with one all this time."

"Anna," Terrian started, but Nariah placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Terrian has told me much about you, Anna. He told me you're a strong, courageous girl who has survived many horrors. I don't know the details, but I know you were hurt by my kind. I'm sorry for what you've been through. But Terrian has been hurt by those like me as well. At first, he didn't trust me. I didn't trust him. He only tended to me when it was necessary to keep me alive. But the more we talked, the more we came to understand each other. He has taught me much about humans, and I understand now how wrong I was in the past. Please forgive me. Please forgive Terrian for keeping such a secret."

Anna stared at her, her frown melting slowly away. "No, I'm sorry. It's none of my business anyway."

She turned and left the room. You glanced back at Terrian and Nariah, who looked worried. "I'll talk to her," you told them, heading for the door, "And it was nice to meet you, Nariah."

You made your way through the hallway and down the stairs to the second floor. Sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall was Anna, her face buried in her knees and her body shaking with sobs.

Tag List:

@scrumptiouslampwobblercop

If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know!

[prettyinpwn]

Please Reblog to Solve a Fandom Mystery

So... long story short, I'm an ancient, crusty old part of the Gravity Falls fandom, best known forgotten for having made the original Stan twin theory post that got it going on Tumblr back in the day when the show was airing. AKA the person that predicted Ford conclusively first before Not What He Seems even aired. Here's the original post in question from eons ago:

Or... at least I thought I was.

I have a bit of a conundrum I'm wondering if anyone can answer, or if anyone from the fandom from that time - like I am - might remember. See... for a very long time, I always thought the 'someone on Tumblr cracked the case, so we made the McGucket hoax' quote from the GF commentaries meant my blog and post was the one that scared Hirsch into making the hoax, but then I realized:

My theory had the McGucket hoax in it (I believed it hook, line, and sinker, too - thanks Alex, you plaid rascal). So... the McGucket hoax wasn't made in reaction to MY Stan twin theory post on Tumblr, which means... someone else's was.

But here's the thing: I was OBSESSED with GF at that point (who am I kidding, still am, the brainrot in me is strong), constantly refreshing and checking the tags and the people I followed every day for hours on end, deep in the theorist side of the fandom, and I do not remember anyone having fully made a post like mine that "cracked the case"... until mine. The idea or suggestion that Stan might also have a twin existed, sure, but as far as I know, no one fully proved it until me, with the above post rounding up all the evidence.

So... then who DID? Does anyone remember or has found anything from those days that conclusively proves what post was the one that sent Hirsch into a frenzy to make the hoax? Because I'm pretty sure now it wasn't mine.

The absolute earliest mention I personally remember was on the Mystery Shack forums, I think they were called, but once again... not sure by who, and it was without evidence and was just a 'wouldn't it be cool for Stan to have a twin, too?' type deal, iirc. And my theory post itself from back then says it was already a circulating idea, so it must have existed elsewhere, first, but I for the life of me CANNOT remember any posts before mine that fully solved the plot twist.

My one thought is that - and this is how I remember it - me saying "the famous amongst Fallers Stan twin theory" in my original twin theory post was me mis-stating theory when really it was only a 'what if?' idea at that point, but... then again, the McGucket hoax was made before my twin theory post, so there must have been an earlier Tumblr post than mine, right?

Anyways, sorry for the long explanation, but I wanted to explain my thought process and what I remember. Please reblog to help me solve the mystery! The more this gets reblogged, the more people who might remember from back then might see this and know the answer. Or maybe a newer fan that's delved into super old posts in the fandom might have seen one earlier than ~July-Aug 2013 (roughly right after Dreamscaperers was released) that cracked the case before my post did at that time.

[mermaidgirl30]

Decided to post Look for the Light on here 😊 Just posted Chapter 29!

- Summary: Aly finds herself trying to escape the Boston QZ. What Aly doesn’t know is Tess is pairing her up with Joel to go on a dangerous mission to find Tommy. Will Aly survive the brooding, moody Joel or will she find herself falling hard for him?

- Joel x OC (Fic is in both Aly and Joel’s POV)

- Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

- Tags: Angst, fluff, smut, slow burn, attempted sexual assault, kidnapping, enemies to lovers, unprotected p in v, gratuitous smut, joel x fem! reader, original character, protective Joel, anxiety, ptsd, sexual tension, mutual pining

Chapter 1

You shoved your cold hands into the pockets of your dark blue jeans as you walked through the corridor of Boston QZ. You came around the corner of the infested FEDRA streets and went into the brown brick building. It was quiet here. You could finally think without being surrounded by the yelling soldiers in the streets. This wasn’t really a place you wanted to stay.

You came here to see Tess. Something about helping you flee this area. You hadn’t been here long, but the amount you stayed was more than enough. Your mind raced as you made your way up the wooden steps, stopping at a red door. You knocked three times hoping Tess would answer shortly. After a moment Tess opened the door.

“Ahh. Aly, come in,” she motioned.

“Thanks,” you said as you stepped through the threshold. You found the small black leather couch in the corner of the room and sank down into the cool leather. You rested your hands on your forehead and leaned over until Tess interrupted your thoughts.

“You alright?” Tess asked, concern lathered in her voice.

You sighed and looked up at her. “I’m good, Tess. Really. Don’t worry about me,” you said as another sigh escaped your mouth. She looked at you another moment before she spoke again.

“You really want to get out of here don’t you?” she asked with sincerity in her voice. Her hazel eyes looked sad as she looked at the ground. “Look Aly, I came up with a plan on how you can get out of here. It might be a little dangerous, but I think you should try if that’s really what you want to do..”

Before she could finish her sentence, the front door lock twisted and turned as a tall man barged through the door and slammed the door shut. He had on a red plaid shirt, light blue jeans and some dark brown work boots. His sleeves were rolled up and you could see the way his veins bulged as he flexed his left arm to fix his messy dark hair. He had patches of grey streaked through his hair, and you could see this man had been through a lot just by the way he carried himself.

He stopped and stared at you the moment he saw you sitting in the corner. His eyes were curious yet leary. His gaze lingered for a moment before he looked back at Tess. “Who’s the girl, Tess, and why is she in our living room?” He walked over to Tess and practically threw a sack full of supplies into her arms. Tess caught it and huffed in annoyance.

“This is Aly. Aly, this is Joel,” she said to you as she put the sack down on the floor.

Rain pelted on the outside window lightly as Joel walked back into the living room from the kitchen. Joel glanced at you and then looked back at Tess, clearly waiting for a response. Tess closed her eyes before she spoke softly. “Aly’s going to go with you to find Tommy.”

“I’m what?” you said alarmingly as you stood up from the couch and walked over to Tess.

“She’s what?!” Joel shouted as he glared from you back to Tess.

“Joel, listen, I need to explain,” Tess pleaded before Joel interrupted her.

“I don’t even know this girl, Tess! Do you? Do you have any idea where she came from or what her intentions are? What if she was sent here as a spy to try to corrupt this place even more? What the fuck are you thinking,” Joel said angrily as his face turned a shade of red.

“Hey!” you fought back. “I’m not working for anyone. I just stumbled upon this shitty little town that’s overrun by FEDRA. I don’t even want to be here so I’m gonna do whatever I can to get the hell out of here.” You snapped and Joel’s expression lightened up a little. He looked you up and down before he turned back to Tess.

“You want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Joel asked with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

Tess led him to the opposite couch, grabbed Joel’s arm and directed him to sit down. He did so without a fuss. He huffed and looked back at you as you sat on the couch across from them.

Tess told you a little bit about her and Joel before. They weren’t together, but you could tell there was something unspoken between them. They shared the apartment space and got along well enough is what it sounded like. You didn’t know anything about him though.

Tess looked between you both and Joel looked like he was running out of patience. His foot tapped loudly until Tess slapped his knee and made his leg stop moving. Joel glared up at her and removed her hand. Joel scowled and finally relaxed back into the couch. “Alright, let’s hear your big plan then since none of the rest of us know what the fuck is going on,” he snarled.

Tess gave Joel a sympathetic look before speaking. “I know you’ve been planning on trying to go find Tommy for awhile now. And he’s miles and miles from here. Aly here wants to get out of the QZ.” Joel looked a moment at you as gears grinded in his brain and looked back to Tess. “That’s a long journey to make on your own. One you shouldn’t do alone. You really need someone to go with you, Joel. This is your chance to make an escape. You could leave tonight if you really wanted to. You’d have to sneak past FEDRA though. That’d be pretty risky, but I think you could do it. You’re good at sneaking. Maybe this is your time. There’s a white pickup truck waiting for you outside the city gates. I have the keys. You just have to get there safely, and you could take it as long as it’d take you. There’s some extra fuel in the back of the truck. It’s yours for the taking.”

Joel looked lost in his thoughts as he ran a hand through his messy hair and rested his hands under his chin. He leaned forward and contemplated for what seemed like an eternity. He looked back up into your eyes, and his eyes were dark. They were almond colored with a hint of honey and hazel mixed together. They were brooding and calculating, piercing right through you.

He held your gaze and the words rolled off his tongue with a hint of anger. “No.” Your heart sank as the words registered in your brain. He wouldn’t budge.

He got up off the couch and walked towards his room in the back of the apartment. Tess got up and followed him, trying to catch his arm. “Joel, please. Just think about it,” she begged.

“I said no! And where the hell did you even find a truck?!” Joel responded loudly. He slammed the door in her face before she could even answer him.

Tess rested on the door for a minute before she walked back to you. She collapsed on the couch in defeat and faced you with sad eyes. “I’m really sorry, Aly. He really doesn’t budge when he has his mind made up. He’s stubborn and a pain in the ass. I really tried. I swear,” she said as she placed a hand on your back.

You held back tears and replied with a small smile to lighten the mood. “It’s fine, Tess. I know you tried. Joel doesn’t really seem like someone I’d want to travel with anyways. I can find another way. I hope.”

You moved off the couch slowly and grabbed your backpack off the floor. It was heavy and had a purple floral design on the back. “I should go back to my apartment. Thanks again for trying,” you said as you opened the squeaky door and closed it softly behind you. You didn’t give Tess the chance to say goodbye.

Dread filled your body as you slumped down the stairs and turned the corner. Your apartment was just on the opposite side of the hall as theirs. You had only been here a few weeks and already wanted to escape. That’s what you were good at doing though. Escaping. Leaving before you got stuck in one place for too long.

You rounded the corner and took the gold key out of your pocket. The key fit into the lock smoothly as you turned it to the left and opened the door. Your apartment was bare inside. The white walls had cracks starting to form above the kitchen. There was a broken tv in the corner of the room that had probably been there for years. There was also a single fold out chair that sat in front of it.

The twin sized bed in the bedroom was broken, so you had a blow up mattress sprawled across the living room floor. You set your bag down beside the bed and walked into the bathroom, turning on the lights. The lights were dim and flickered as thunder rumbled across the sky outside.

You looked at yourself in the mirror as dark blue eyes stared back at you in the mirror. They always reminded you of what a sapphire looked like. Shiny and deep blue. Your long brunette hair fell in waves past your shoulders.

You looked as if you had barely slept the past week with dark shadows below your eyes. “I thought turning 35 was supposed to be more fun than this,” you said to yourself in the mirror. “Guess I was wrong.” You grabbed the brush that laid on the sink and got the knots out of your hair. Smooth waves appeared instead of the tangled mess the rain did to your hair. You set the brush down and turned off the light in the bathroom as you walked out.

You plopped down on the mattress and took off the black hoodie you had on. You closed your eyes and thought about how you could get out of here. Thoughts of Joel and Tess appeared in your head. Why couldn’t there have been another way out of here? Would you be stuck here forever? Trapped behind the watchful eyes of FEDRA.

Sleep overtook you as you listened to the rain pound against the window, thunder crashing in the distance. You dreamed of escape. There was a large forest filled with moss covered rocks and towering green trees. Infected noises could be heard in the distance as you ran through the forest. You tripped and fell on a large root sticking up from the ground. When you turned to get up a runner jumped on you as you screamed and thrashed against its grip. Before it took a bite out of you, you were jolted awake.

There was a sharp knock coming from the front door. You looked at the clock and it was midnight. You were out for hours. You got up slowly and unlocked the door warily. You were shocked to see who was behind the door.

Joel. You took a step back as you opened the door wider. There he was leaning up against the door post. He had a black backpack draped around his shoulder. He looked annoyed and bothered. He stared up into your eyes as he leaned away from the entry of the door. “Let’s go,” he said in a deep voice. He had a thick southern accent that could make a room shake with either charm or fear.

“What?” you asked questioning his response.

“You heard what I said. Pack your bags and let’s go,” he said calmly as he walked into the room. You were standing in a black tank top and blue jeans. He went over and grabbed your hoodie and backpack. He threw the hoodie at you and set down the backpack by the door. You quickly threw the hoodie on and made sure you had everything you needed in your bag.

“What made you change your mind?” you asked cautiously. You shifted your weight as you became nervous thinking he’d start yelling again.

He placed his hands on his hips and thought for a second before answering. “Plans changed, that’s all. I need to get halfway across the United States. Salt Lake City to be exact. That’s all I’m gonna say. You can either come with me or you can stay here in this hell hole. It’s your choice. Do what you want.” He was cold. He didn’t seem to have a hint of kindness in him at that moment.

You really didn’t want to go with him, but this was your only chance. If you didn’t leave now then you might never get out. “Alright. I’ll go with you. But only cause it’s my only shot to get out of this place,” you sighed.

Joel nodded in response. “Look, I’m not looking to make new friends. We don’t even have to have conversations. Let’s just keep to ourselves and keep our distance.” He picked up your bag and threw it at you forcefully. You caught it as it crashed against your ribs, almost knocking the wind out of you.

“Fine with me, let’s make this short and sweet,” you rolled your eyes as you gathered a few more things in the bag. You couldn’t believe Tess partnered you up with the most hateful man in the community. Couldn’t she have asked your opinion first before she planned this entire thing? You were angry with the way Joel was acting, but you sucked it up as you walked to the front of the apartment.

Joel looked coldly at you before he opened the door. “Follow me, but stay quiet. We’re gonna have to sneak past FEDRA.” Your eyes went wide as you shut the door quietly and followed him out into the dark of the night.

Chapter 2

[the-dragon-girl-27]

In my previous post i talked about how I have a lotta scrapped MV ideas, well may as well dump some designs i've made based on songs over the years because like I probably wouldn't post these otherwize

also heres a few nice picture of miku from one of em to make you click on this post because its gunna be a long one and all these are hidden below a read more

for the record don't expect me to do anything with any of these, also these are from old to new some of these date back to early 2022 and it shows

This one i posted a storyboard for actually its An Aliens I Love You by Utsu-P.

I gave young Rin a sakura motif with her dress because of miku and rin meeting under a sakura tree, teen miku has a pink ribbion and hairclip to continue this. both rins bow and mikus outfit get darker outfits overtime to sybolize the song getting darker. I also gave adult rin the future rin hair. Miku's "alien" form is more or less how its described in the song tho i was lazy and didn't draw the 4 arms in the refs.

also Lily is Rins mom in this yup there she is indeed.

I actually have a lot of assets finished including the ones above i may show em off one day who knows.

This one is Stained Nocturne by Toa i actually did finish this one

the grey one is when they talk about being colorless

i gave them both very cute and elegent outfits i think it matches the vibe of the song. The starry outfits are the real highlight. if you wonder how I drew em over and over i just copy pasted the stars on their dresses.

they also are very blue because yknow nocturne. I forgot if i dumped the assets for this MV or not maybe next rant post.

This one is Corona by Utsu-P no idea why i did it its probably not even in my top 20 Utsu-P songs i just had some brainworms that wore off. I finished like a minute of it I guess.

I really like rin's outfit. "goth metal astronaut" is such a weirdly specific concept but she absolutley nailed it. 10/10 desin

This one is Garando by Picon. I gave her a like idk what to call it paperboy outfit like the one you see in the MV a few times. her eyes are yellow like bullets because I had this one S teir visual idea. I have some assets for this one i may show off one day.

i also considered doin the sekai ver i really like garando if u cant tell lol

This one is Happy Haloween by Junky another one i finished

Rins is just from the OG mv the rest are themed around the characters

Minori is a dark angel because tenshi no clover is themed around... a normal angel

haruka has candy and a penguin mask because thats her thing

airi is a vampire cuz she has fangs

shizuku is a witch because of her cast a spell on you outfit

This one is NEXT NEST by Satsuki Ga Tenkomori. The cubes are from the original MV image thing. I gave her a super cybernetic look to match the song vibe. I also gave her a plaid skirt to match miku's concept desin because this song is like sorta miku becoming sentient or smth idk been a while since i read the lyrics.

another S teir design. also zamn this ref goes hard lol.

This one is Bluff Liar by EZFG. VY1 doesn't really have a desin so I went with this based on the semi official one (we dont speak of her new official one also i drew this long before that regardless lol) I have a shitty animatic thats 80% stick figures for this. never posted it tho.

tbh i put the file to this ref on an external hard drive cuz this whole video killed my storage because i actually finished it so i yeeted all th assets off my computer as soon as i was finished so i just dowloaded the little thing of assets from this post

not much goin on its kinda just normal ol luka lol

This is Black Hole Artist by utsu-P. its not in project sekai and never will be but it reminded me of Ena so I had this idea. not much to say, I have a few assets for this but nothing really finished.

Another VY1 EZFG song, IDK what my plan was for drawing this over and over. also pretty asthetic ref lol. not much to say i don't draw very cyberish designs so its fun

this is just concept art. this is Roless Weapon by Neru and Inubakumori. yeah those two colabed you wouldnt know cuz this song has no MV. IDK what my plan for this was tbh but like when else would i show this off.

From here on its just concepts lol. this is Atari Front Program by Utsu-P... god how many Utsu songs is this lol

S teir desin i love miniskirt plus pants combo idk its just a vibe.

this drawing sucks lol. this is Live by Mizuno Atsu. Long haired kafu is cute I have better drawings of this in my sketchbook somewhere I think. I might revisit this it would be very simple and cute.

also weirdly my fav part of this aside from her hair is her shoes.

anyway Kafu needs more outfits for songs tbh theres like 3 kafu songs where she has a unique outfit

actually i lied about only having doodles, this is Where Shall We Go by Mellowclle

already made a post bout this

this is my most recent. I sketched this after finishing this art of this song. It is Memento Mori by Buriru

I love this song the creator said its supposed to sound like a mecha anime opening so i went with that vibe. teto looks great, miku doesn't. Teto doesn't really have a counterpart so I assigned miku as her girlfriend lol.

sadly I cannot draw robots so idk what my plan was tho i have a cool visual for the end in my head.

anyway thats everything I could find. does anyone give a crap? probably not but hey character design is fun and i love messing around.

anyway fun trivia more songs i have video ideas for i won't make: Poster Girls Prank - Utsu-P (but with MMJ project sekai)

Stella - Jin

Paranoia - Mezame-P

and probably more i'm forgetting lmfao

[queenofthekings]

𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗, 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖎 (𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊)

Summary: Hawkins, Indiana, 1986. A dead end town where nothing happens. One night, Eddie Munson goes missing without a trace. He turns up two weeks later on your doorstep, covered in blood and no memory of the last two weeks. When you notice him acting strangely, you follow Eddie into the woods and discover his terrifying secret. But the most terrifying part to you? You can't bring yourself to stay away from Eddie. Whether you've realised you're in love with him or you're under his spell, you don't want to be away from Eddie for a single second and a deadly love affair begins.

Author's note: I doubt anyone's read it but this is a revamped (no pun intended) version of the fic of the same name on AO3 I wrote last year. I love that fic so much and felt like people on here would miss out on it as I haven't posted it here. If you'd ever like to read the original version, you can find it here! If any of you do choose to read it in it's entirety, please don't spoil it for others!

CW: 18+, swearing, character death, sex references, potential smut in later chapters, vampire!Eddie, blood, scenes that people may find disturbing.

Word count: 4.3k

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

The alarm went off at 6:15 AM on the dot, its obnoxious and short beeping noise was the worst part of waking up, yet it was a necessary evil. You groaned as you reached out to turn off the beeping and hide back under the covers. You really weren’t in the mood to face the world or school.

You laid under the covers for another five minutes until you sighed, reluctantly pushing the covers out of the way, and sitting up. Rubbing your eyes, you groaned once more as you realized the glass next to you bed was empty. “Thirsty,” you frowned, climbing out of bed, and grabbing your glass to go downstairs and refill it.

Once you reached the kitchen, you stared out the window as your glass began to fill with water. You were completely lost in your own thoughts, distracted by a bird pecking at the grass. Suddenly, your felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to shriek and drop your glass.

Turning around to confront the culprit behind you, you punched your older brother in the arm. “Don’t fucking scare me like that!”

Stephen laughed loudly, giving you a quick hug. “I couldn’t help myself, I’m sorry. You’re so easy to scare.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You laughed, picking up your glass to drink what little water was left in it before turning off the tap. “How was work?”

Stephen sighed, filling the kettle, and setting it to boil. “Same old, same old. Jamie’s gonna take you to school if that's alright.”

You frowned as you put your glass down in the sink for washing. “Why can’t you take me?”

“Because, pipsqueak, I’m fuckin’ tired.” He poured himself some coffee before leaving the kitchen and disappearing upstairs.

It had just been the three of you for almost three years; your mom had died of cancer and dad was nowhere to be found. To keep food on the table, all three of you worked. Stephen worked nights at the powerplant, Jamie worked days at the general store, and you worked weekends and the odd evening at the diner.

It wasn't much, but you made it work.

“Y/N!” Jamie called out. “I am leaving in exactly seven minutes! If you’re not ready then, I’m leaving without you!”

“Shit!” You sprinted upstairs to hastily get ready for school. You frantically threw on an Evil Dead t-shirt, dark plaid mini-skirt, and old grey socks, forcing your feet into a pair of black boots. Additionally, you grabbed your denim jacket off the floor before picking up your backpack and hurtling yourself down the stairs.

Jamie stood at the front door, looking at his watch. “Only thirty seconds to spare, I’m impressed.”

You pushed past him to get out the front door, giving him a death glare before smiling. “Oh shut up, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“But for how long?” Jamie's expression went sinister as he opened the door for you before climbing into the car himself.

After climbing into the car, you punched his arm. “If you kill me on the way to school, you’d be doing me a kindness. Surely, you want me to suffer as much as possible.”

Turning the car on, Jamie pressed play on the stereo, Bronski Beat began playing throughout the car. “If I can't kill you, I'll just leave you with my terrible music.”

You groaned, sinking down into your seat. “You're too kind, sparing my life and giving me the gift of whatever this is.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “I am nothing but merciful.”

The rest of the car ride was silent as you tapped your thighs to the beat of the music, watching Hawkins fly past you. Yawning, you leaned your head against the window and tried not to fall back asleep. All the late nights were definitely catching up to you and it was probably time to sleep early for once, not that you’d ever actually do it though.

The car pulled into the Hawkins High parking lot and came to a halt, with you climbing out and grabbing your backpack.

“Stephen will pick you up tonight, as usual. I'll be home probably at about 6 with dinner, alright?” Jamie leaned over to make sure you could hear him.

You nodded, putting on your headphones and grabbing your Walkman out of your backpack. “I’ll see you at home.” You didn't bother waiting for a reply as you walked into school, pressing play on your music, Shout by Tears for Fears filling your ears.

Arriving at your locker, you ignored the “Hellfire’s Bitch” plastered all over it. You’d long since given up trying to rub it off as it would appear again the next day, you were used to it anyway. When it first started to happen, you’d always scream and cry about how much you hated it and how it wasn’t true, but now you wore the name like a badge of honour.

Better to be known as Hellfire’s Bitch than a slut, right?

While you weren’t an official member of the Hellfire Club, you were still pretty good friends with the members. After your mom died, they’d more or less taken you under their wing. They made you laugh again and remind you that you always had someone looking out for you, no matter what.

The only downside was being teased for being associated with “freaks” and having to deal with the constant fear of being beaten up by Jason and his band of loyal cultists. While you hadn’t been attacked yet, you knew it was coming at some point – you were 5’1”, you didn’t stand a chance against Jason’s 5’8” frame. You’d be toast in seconds.

You shrugged off those thoughts, grabbing the necessary books out of your locker and walked to your first class, not bothering to take off your headphones. You weren’t in any classes with any of your friends anyway, so there was no point in taking them off.

You breezed your way through the classes, never putting your hand up and taking notes if you needed to. Before your mom’s death, you’d always be engaged in classes and would always ask questions. But now? You didn’t see a point in doing anything but getting your work done so you could get out.

Once the lunch bell rang, you rushed into the cafeteria and looked around for your friends, only to have Eddie Munson stand on his table and stretch his arms out towards you. “But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.”

Blushing deeply, you laughed and made your way over to his table. “Alright, Romeo, you can stop with the theatrics now.” Placing your tray on the table, you flattened the back of your skirt and sat down closest to Eddie.

Eddie moved his chair slightly closer to you. “You’ll never guess who I’m gonna ask to prom.”

You looked at him and then at the rest of the table before back to Eddie, knowing that everyone except you knew who he was talking about. “I’ll guess Nancy Wheeler.”

Gareth almost choked on his food from laughing. “Close but not quite.”

You went silent for a few moments to think, the smile slowly growing on your lips as an idea came to your head. “Chrissy Cunningham? Fuck off, even I wanna sleep with her.”

The entire table sat up straighter at your comment, all of them instantly thinking of you and Chrissy making out in very little clothing. Several of the boys coughed awkwardly as they readjusted their jeans, causing you to roll your eyes and turn back to Eddie. “You’re such a bullshitter, Munson.”

Eddie put his hands up in surrender. “I’m not bullshitting, I swear.”

You laughed, opening your carton of juice. “I’ll believe you when I see it for myself.”

Eddie gave you a slight smirk, his eyes focused on your lips for a moment before returning to your eyes. “Don’t you worry, Juliet, I’ll prove it.”

You raised an eyebrow, licking your lips. “I’m betting on it.”

Gareth sighed, slamming his fist down on the table, causing you and Eddie to jump. “Either kiss and get it over with or stop eye-fucking each other, there’s kids around.”

You and Eddie moved slightly away from each other, coughing awkwardly as you took a sip of your juice. Talk at the table went to the usual next D&D session, you just sitting and listening to the excited boys, not knowing, or understanding anything that was being said. But listening to the excitement in their voices always made your smile.

The rest of the school day went by uneventfully and ended with you waiting outside the school for Stephen to pick you up. As usual, he was late. Everyone else had already gone home, leaving you to sit on the wall in front of the school with your headphones on, staring at the road and waiting for Stephen’s car.

A person stood in front of you, causing you to take your headphones off and look up at them. “Well well well, it looks like it’s just you and me, Juliet."

You sighed, folding your arms over your chest. “Why are you still here, Eddie? School’s over.”

Eddie almost frowned as he sat down beside you on the wall, ignoring your question. “Why are you still here?”

“Stephen’s supposed to pick me up. I guess he forgot,” you shrugged, grimacing.

“What’re you listening to?” Eddie took your headphones, pressing play on your Walkman before you could answer. You watched his face show little to no emotion as he listened to your music, his eyes focused on something in the distance, or probably nothing at all.

After a few minutes, he took the headphones off and handed the Walkman back to you. “Because you didn't give me a chance to answer before you listened, it’s Modern Talking.”

Eddie nodded slowly. “It's… different.”

You shook your head, laughing a little. “It’s okay, you can say you hate it.”

He narrowed his eyes, leaning his head in closer to yours. “Whoever said I hated it?”

“Oh please, I know you, Romeo. You don’t wanna be rude by saying my music is terrible, so you call it interesting, you’ve said that about anything you don’t like that I like.”

Eddie smirked. “So you think you know me?”

You raised an eyebrow, getting closer to him. “Of course I know you, we know each other very well.”

“Maybe we do, maybe we don’t.”

You moved away, brushing him off. “You never answered my earlier question, why are you still here?”

Eddie shrugged, fiddling with the ends of your hair. “I was about to leave when I saw you out here alone, I didn’t think you should be waiting for your bother alone... if he even turns up.”

You frowned. “He’ll turn up, he’s just running late.”

“I’ll tell you what; if he doesn’t turn up in the next 10 minutes, I will take you home.”

You thought about his offer for a moment before slowly nodding your head. “Okay, sure.”

It wouldn’t be the first time Eddie had offered to drive you home; he’d even done it a handful of times over the past few years. But you always felt guilty over him having to stay later after school to wait with you and then eventually drive you home.

While your brothers tolerated Eddie and accepted that he was a friend, they were still wary of him. Not because of any of the Hellfire “cult” nonsense, but because of Eddie’s reputation for dealing drugs and smoking almost constantly. It was the typical overprotective older brother routine that you’d had been forced to live with since your parents died.

Eddie lit a cigarette and blew out the smoke, being careful to not blow it in your face. You looked in his direction, taking the cigarette from him and taking a long drag, blowing out the smoke as you handed it back.

Almost hesitantly, Eddie took the cigarette back. “Okay, that was the hottest thing you've ever done, who knew Juliet could hold a smoke?”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking a little. “Surprised, Munson?”

He took another drag, processing everything he’d just witnessed. “I just pictured you as the good girl, never doing anything like this.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “We crash parties all the time, I’d hardly call myself the good girl.”

Eddie took one last long drag before throwing his cigarette away. “In that case, Juliet, the not good girl, I think it’s high time I take you home.”

You sighed, nodding as you picked up your backpack and jacket, making your way over to Eddie’s van with Eddie wrapping an arm around your shoulder. His arm dropped to open the passenger side door for you before disappearing to the other side of the van and climbing in.

You tossed your bag and jacket in before climbing in yourself, closing the door behind you. The van smelled of thousands of cigarettes, beer cans and cologne; while you wouldn’t call it horrible, it certainly took you by surprise every time you smelled it. You were sure the smell was strong enough to burn some hairs off your nose, not that  you’d ever say anything to Eddie about it.

The car ride was silent between you two, the only sound was Eddie’s stereo playing Master of Puppets by Metallica, Eddie’s hands tapping against the steering wheel. You’d heard him play the song a thousand times since it was released, it was cute in a way.

People always saw Eddie have this tough and scary exterior but once people ripped the surface away and go deeper, they’d see that he was one of the softest and kindest people in the school. Fiercely protective and loyal to those closest to him, he’d take a bullet for them if he could.

All too soon, Eddie had parked his van outside of your house and was waiting for you to make a move. You awkwardly picked up your belongings, knowing you should say something… anything but nothing came to mind. “I’ll see you later?” You blurted out without fully thinking beforehand.

It came out more like a question than anything else, and if Eddie could hear your thoughts, he’d be bombarded with loud screaming and being told you were an idiot repeatedly. You couldn’t understand why today of all days, you couldn't act normal around him.

Just say goodbye like a normal person, you complete loser.

Eddie nodded, giving you a gentle smile, clearly not fazed by your strange reaction. “See you later, Juliet. And please don’t tell your brothers I let you smoke.”

You nodded, your insides melting at that damned smile. “Your secret is safe with me.” You nodded as you opened the door and climbed out. After closing the door, you gave him a salute before racing inside.

Once the door was closed, you instantly began banging your forehead against it repeatedly, cringing at every hit until you felt a hand on your forehead, moving your head away from the door. “If you wanted to crack your skull open, you’ll have to hit harder than that.”

You frowned, moving your head to see Stephen grinning beside you. Once you realised who it was, you instantly began punching his arm. “You were supposed to pick me up from school, asshole!”

Stephen raised his arms in defence before grabbing your fists to stop you from attacking him. “I know and I’m sorry, my alarm didn’t wake me up. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You stopped fighting, your eyes narrowing. “Make it up to me how?”

He let go of your hands. “You can have whatever you want for dinner all weekend, and Eddie Munson can take you to school and pick you up for the rest of the month.”

You thought about his offer for a moment before nodding. “You got yourself a deal, you’re lucky you get to live another day.” You held out your hand and Stephen shook it, sealing the deal.

He smiled as their hands shook before his smile dropped almost as quickly as it appeared. “Did you smoke?”

Your eyes went wide for a moment before you bolted for the stairs, Stephen hot on your heels. He grabbed your ankle, pulling you down as soon as you reached the top step. “I’m gonna kill Munson!” he yelled.

“You said he could be my ride for a month! We had a deal!” You yelled back, trying to hold in your laughter as you lay on the stairs.

“That was before I knew he got you to smoke!”

You were just about to kick him in the balls to get him off, but the front door opened, revealing Jamie had come home with burgers. Stephen looked down at you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “This isn’t over, you’re grounded for the rest of the semester,” then he walked downstairs to greet his brother.

Rolling your eyes, you turned over and stood up, slowly making your way down the stairs. At first, you thought it was all a joke but hearing your brother’s voice sound so threatening made you realise that perhaps he wasn’t joking at all and maybe you were grounded after all.

Arriving in the kitchen, you grabbed your Styrofoam box of a burger and fries from the greasy bag and grabbed a Coke from the fridge before sitting down at the counter to eat.

The three of you ate in silence, until Jamie spoke up through a mouthful of fries. “How was school?”

You shrugged, finishing the rest of your burger before answering. “Same old, same old, Stephen forgot to pick me up, so Eddie brought me home.”

Stephen shook his head, clearly annoyed that you brought it up. “I didn’t forget, I overslept. Do I need to bring up how you’re grounded for the rest of the semester?”

You looked down, playing with a fry. Jamie frowned, turning to the eldest sibling. “Why’s she grounded?”

“Would you like to say why you’re grounded?” Stephen asked, you shook your head. “She’s grounded because she smoked.”

Jamie raised his eyebrow slightly, directing his next question towards you. “Was it drugs or just a cigarette?”

“Cigarette,” you almost whispered, hanging your head.

“What do you mean “just” a cigarette? She shouldn’t be smoking anything!” Stephen almost yelled.

“You were her age once! You did far worse than her! Do I need to remind you why all your girlfriends were banned from the house? Or why none of mom’s jewellery was left to us?” Jamie fired back.

“It’s because I did worse shit that I want to stop her from continuing!” Stephen towered over Jamie. “If she isn't careful, she’ll ruin her life!”

“OH MY GOD, STOP PRETENDING TO BE DAD!” You screamed, getting off your seat. “No matter how hard you put on the persona, you’ll never be him.”

Stephen moved around the counter to stand in front of you, looking like a giant compared to you. “I don’t know if you noticed, kiddo, since that deadbeat left, I have to be. My life ended the day mom died. Both of our lives did, we had to look after you.”

“So this is my fault?” You laughed bitterly. “If you didn’t want me, you should’ve just shipped me off to England when Aunt Clara fucking asked.”

His eyes narrowed, his voice getting quiet. “You know what? Maybe I should’ve. Maybe then I wouldn’t be stuck in this fucking shithole with a little brother who’s a pushover and a little sister who thinks the entire world revolves around her.”

Before another word could be said, Stephen stormed out of the house and sped away, leaving you and Jamie to stare at each other and wonder what in the world had just happened. Feeling tears well up in your eyes, you darted towards the door and shakily grabbed your coat and put it on.

“Where are you going?” Jamie asked, walking towards the door after you.

“Out.”

“You’re grounded, remember?”

“So stop me from going out then.” You waited for a few seconds before nodding your head. “I’ll be back later, I just wanna clear my head.”

Jamie pulled you in for a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re not a burden to me, okay? Stephen’s just got a lot resting on his shoulders and I know he shouldn’t take it out on you, but he just wants the best for you.”

You nodded, hugging him back before letting go. “I love you, Jamie, and I’m sorry for ruining dinner.”

Jamie brushed you off. “Nah you didn’t, don’t worry about it. I love you too and go see Eddie.”

“How did you know I’d go see Eddie?”

“I was eighteen once before, I know love when I see it.”

“I-I don’t-” you stuttered, completely taken aback by your brother’s comment.

“I’ll keep your secret, don’t worry. Now go before it gets too dark.”

You gave him a smile before walking out into the dusk. It wasn’t too far to walk to Eddie’s, but it still probably wasn’t a good idea to walk it at that hour and alone. You shivered a little and wished you’d put on tights or jeans before leaving but it was far too late for that now; you’d probably borrow a blanket from Eddie when you were there.

After almost an hour of walking, you arrived at Eddie’s trailer. With a shaky hand, you knocked on his door. As you waited, you could feel the anxiety rising within you, almost making you cry; not over seeing Eddie, but the weight of the argument and what Stephen had said had finally hit you and it hit like a tonne of bricks.

Eddie opened the door with a wide smile. “Well this is a surprise, Juliet.” His smile dropped once he noticed you were on the verge of a panic attack. “What happened? Who do I need to kill?”

You shook your head, hugging him tightly, burying your face in his chest. Eddie closed the door behind you and hugged you back, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before gently scratching the top of your head, soothing you. “You're okay, nothing will hurt you here.”

Keeping your head in his chest, you breathed in the smell of cigarettes and cologne, both smells and Eddie’s words helping you calm down. Slowly, you came out of the hug. “I got into an argument with Stephen.”

Eddie nodded, pressing another kiss to the side of your head. “You get the blankets; I’ll get the beer.”

You nodded, grabbing blankets from the sofa and Eddie’s room before making your way up to the roof of the trailer, arranging the blankets to be comfortable to sit on and resting one on your lap to warm your legs up.

The pair of you always sat on the roof whenever you came over, staring up at the sky, looking at clouds and smoking during the day and looking at constellations, talking about your dreams and drinking during the night.

Eddie brought up a box of beer, passing it up to you as he finished climbing up the ladder himself. He settled next to you, getting two cans out and opening one before handing it to you and opening his own. “You wanna tell me what actually happened?”

You sighed before taking a sip of your beer, reluctantly nodding. “There isn’t much to really say. Stephen grounded me for the rest of the semester because I was smoking with you. He also basically said that I ruined both his and Jamie’s lives when our mom died, and he wished he’d sent me off to England.”

Eddie took a massive chug of his beer, clearly trying to contain his anger. “Your brother is an asshole, I’m sorry but he is. If he doesn’t apologize for saying what he said and ungrounding you, I’ll get my uncle to beat his ass.”

You shook your head, taking a long drink. “Don’t worry about it, Jamie has my back.”

“The offer’s always open, Juliet.”

You smiled at each other as you both fell silent, drinking your beers and staring up at the stars, the silence of the trailer park occasionally broken by a couple arguing or a dog barking. To you, it was nothing short of heaven to be under the stars with Eddie and dreaming of being away from home.

“Let’s get out of here.” Eddie said, breaking the silence.

You looked at him before looking at your watch. “The diner should still be open.”

“I was thinking more somewhere overseas.”

“So my brother shouts at me, I should flee the country?”

“This place is a dead end; we’ve been saying it for years.”

“So what’re we gonna do about it?”

He shrugged slightly. “You know I’ll follow you wherever you wanna go.”

You downed the rest of your beer. “What if I wanna go to Antarctica?”

He laughed, shaking his head slightly as he opened another beer for you, handing it to you. “In that case, Juliet, I’d better get my winter coat.”

You took the beer from him and took a sip. “Did you mean it? When you said you’d take Chrissy to prom?” You asked quietly.

Realising your change in demeanour, Eddie stroked your cheek with his thumb. “There’s only one girl I’d take to prom, and it’ll never be Chrissy Cunningham.”

With watery eyes, you looked at him. “Who’s that?”

Eddie smiled gently, leaning into you, as if he was about to kiss you but he stopped just before you lips, his forehead resting against yours as his dark eyes bore into yours. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s you.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he placed a finger over your lips to stop you before continuing. “And since I do wanna take you to prom, there’s one very important question I must ask you. Y/N, my Juliet, may I take you out on a date tomorrow night?”

A tear fell down your cheek as you smiled, taking a few seconds to answer. “Edward Munson, my Romeo, you may take me out on a date tomorrow.”

[a-strange-echo]

Flufftober day 7: "Porch swing"

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: Just a nice evening with your husband Steve Rogers and his best friend.

Word count: 612

Warning: Bucky's cooking skills (he was distracted by the sight of his best friend ('s romantic moment)), none just fluff

Author's note: This one is very late I am sorry, i really haven't been feeling like writing for a while but it's coming back so i will post every day I missed soon. Also, day 6 migt come very late, I can't find the motivation to write this one, I don't know why. English is not my first langage and it's still not beta read, sorry for any mistake, please notify me if there is any.

Author's feelings: I really like this one, I hope you do too.

Everything was fine now. The war against Thanos ended. Steve volunteered to bring the stones back in their timelines and although you and Bucky were a little scared Steve would stay with Peggy in 1939, he came back. With Natasha. Everything was nice, Tony is alive (thanks to a last utilization of the stones), Natasha came back when Steve brought the Soul Stone back on Vormir, and Steve had his dance with Peggy, like they promised each other back in the days. And the first thing he did after bequeathing his shield to Sam was to finally marry you and buy this house on the countryside he had always wanted. It was a pretty big house, a cottage not far away from the city but far enough he didn’t feel as if he would have to jump into battle at any given moment. The stone walls of the house were perfect to isolate from the cold of the winter but kept the inside fresh in summer. It also had a big backyard to plant some flowers and other plants. But what Steve preferred about the house was its wooden front porch with the swing he hung there. He liked to sit here during cool evenings, watching the stars or just enjoying the calm of his new life.

Tonight was especially perfect. Bucky was visiting and you were more than happy to have him over for a few days. He was helping you cook dinner in the kitchen when you saw Steve sitting on the porch swing. You asked Bucky if he would be alright finishing to cut the vegetables on his own. At first he was confused by the sudden question, cooking together had always been your thing, but when he saw you glance at Steve outside, he smiled and shooed you away. You took a plaid that was laying on the couch after washing your hands of the remaining tomato juice and smell and joined Steve outside.

You tried to sneak up on him even if you knew he had heard you as soon as you opened the door. You were only a few feet away from him when you saw his tender smiled and soft eyes. You decided against your original plan to dump the blanket on his head and instead walked around the swing and sat beside him, draping the plaid over your legs. Steve smiled and took you hand in his. Even after years of being together, it still made your heart flutter when this big, strong man was being so soft with you.

“-You look like an old man, sitting on the porch swing and watching the sunset.” You teased softly, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“-That’s because I am an old man.” he laughed.

“-True.”

You both giggled at that, stuck in your bubble, your own little world. After calming down, you leaned closer to him and put your head on his shoulder, squeezing his hand that was still holding yours. You watched as the sky shifted from blue to orange and from orange to pink. It was so pretty but if you asked Steve, he would respond that nothing was more beautiful than you. And you would disagree, and he would insist that it’s true and you would have a small, funny argument over it. But that didn’t happen today, he just placed a soft kiss to your temple and you knew what it meant: a silent ‘I love you’.

Everything was fine on the porch swing, just two lovers sharing a tender, romantic moment and the husband’s best friend behind them, not daring to interrupt their moment to tell them he burned the food.

[canipleasegetthenumber15]

Master Post

About me:

Hiya, I'm Plaid. :) Thank you for your patience as I get used to using this site. :)

Here's a post about information related to my art commissions.

I've posted some of my ROTTMNT fanfics on Wattpad.

I also have a Redbubble shop where I sell things like stickers, notebooks, journals, and more.

CW: My Tumblr is not as PG as my Instagram. Some posts I reblog might have cussing or creepy/horror content.

I do not promote proshipping.

General art info:

This blog is primarily dedicated to sfw G/t content (G/t is short for Giant/tiny, which is any story with dramatic height differences between at least two characters, such as Gulliver's Travels, Thumbelina, The Borrowers, Paul Bunyan, etc.).

I primarily post some of my OCs and fanart. My art is mostly platonic and fluffy, but I may post things that are too mature for my Instagram (not sexual, though). My fanart is not super close to canon and some of my headcanons differ from popular headcanons.

OC info:

The World of Giantesses:

Different types of giant women inhabit different areas of the world, unbeknown to most humans (with exceptions). These groups include the Sky Titans and the Ocean Leviathans.

Here are links to the Sky Titans:

This one is a basic guide to Titan culture.

This one is a concept for Queen Aurora, who isn't a Titan but rules a very similar group of giantesses. It also features another possible OC, and concepts for another species I created as a kiddo: The hummingbird fairies.

Here are links to the Ocean Leviathans:

This one is of Xav's "husbands" (long story).

This one is of the kaiju forms of Xav and her friends (ft Chipo).

G4E:

The G4E is a squad of 10 ladies who are trying to get their super-hero business up and running (outside of work, they're besties :)). The population of those with super powers are relatively gynocentric (i.e., girls and women are most likely to have super powers, and the few non-female people who have powers are prone to having fewer and weaker abilities).

This link goes to the basic/first redesign I did of the girlies and their powers.

This link goes to two comics showing off some of the powers of Nikki, Tullip, and Jess.

This link goes to a comic of Lula and Lissa.

This link goes to a couple of concept sketches of Jess' husband and daughter, plus a drawing of Lula.

Plaid Final Girls:

Bunny, Butch, Boggle, and Ballast are four final girls in a semi-apocalyptic world where many live in fear of serial killers. They befriend each other and team up to hunt down killers and save civilians. These girlies started out as fun motivational stickers and have since developed into OCs. There are also other groups of final girls, though I haven't posted about them yet.

This link shows the original stickers of the girls available on my Redbubble shop.

This is just a little experimental "poster" of the girls before I redesign some of them.

Here are the redesigns.

This one has brief summaries of the characters and their backstories.

The Gift is a two-part comic of Bunny, Boggle, and Ballast buying Butch a plushie. Here's part one, and here's part two.

Plaidified Fairytales:

Here's how I'd reimagine some fairytales. The characters and plots are based on/influenced by old fairytales, but they deviate from the originals in many ways.

Here's Makena and Amber, aka the Princess and the Frog.

Here's the first concept for Rapunzel and Jack.

Raps' design got an update!

Other OCs:

Here's me and my bb boy Barry (who's like 3 years older than me but he's still my bb boy). Barry is Adele's love interest (they eventually get married).

Here's my lady Adele in gold armor.

Here's a lil concept drawing thingy of my babies Laeto and Chari.

ROTTMNT Fanart:

Disclaimers: Any romantically affectionate Apritello and Raphsandra/Cassael art features the couples when they are married adults (sometimes I forget to draw their wedding rings, oops).

Rise Borrowers:

Here's a link to the basic summary of the Rise Borrowers story as well as my thoughts on Apritello.

Here are some comics of Mikey and April (the first one is more of a concept than canon).

There's a sketch of Raph hugging April in this one.

There's a comic of April giving Donnie a kiss in this one.

Here's April getting affection (both as a giant and a tiny).

Hand cuddles!

Here's one of April kissing Mikey's lil paws <3

The bros take care of April, especially when she doesn't feel well.

GtAD:

GtAD stands for G/t AprilxDonnie. I use the term mostly for my G/t Apritello stuff, but I also use it for my general "turtle-sized Hamato brothers" AU stuff.

Here's turtle-sized Mikey snuggling with April.

This one has RaphxCass.

Here are two ones featuring Apritello.

Other Rise AUs:

A comic based on a real frog. My first mini-merm Rise comic.

This is just a bunch of G/t and G/t-adjacent art.

This one is a no-context snippet of mini Leo and normal-sized Donnie.

Other Fanart:

Plaidified Disney princesses: G/t AUs of some of the Disney princesses (the post features Ariel, Snow White, and Rapunzel).

[symphonic-scream]

Okay here are the

Phantom Thieves of Gender

This started from some headcanons for a transboy Haru thing and now I have a mini arcana swap with the most gender team of teens ever so. Here

Fool/World - non binary Futaba, they/them, don't have much for them yet

Lovers - tranfemme Akira, she/they, wears glasses, first year on hormones, she doesn't talk much outside of the metaverse, but is a mad flirt

Chariot - trans Ann, she/her! She and Shiho are volleyball players, she isn't allowed to play for the school cause of her birth sex, but she and Shiho play for a little local rec team after the first arc, been on hormones since 14, her parents are rich and supportive

Emperor - nonconforming/genderqueer Makoto, any pronouns, preference for they or he. Was a goody goody stuck under Kobayakawa's thumb, but the Thieves help them out and the week after the confession, they show up to school in an oversized plaid jacket and pants, a new gender identity, and hair more choppy, parted more like Sae's, more grunge. Eventually they'll try binding and do it once and a while

Priestess - trans man Ryuji, he/him. He's at Kosei, athletic scholarship, his fellow athletes fall for scams and he has to solve it. He's been out since he was 15 (he's 16/17) but can't afford hormones so he's doing masc workouts and everything he can naturally do

Hermit - genderfluid Yusuke (she/they/he, alternative day from day). Again, not much for this one, sorry

Empress - demigirl Hifumi, she/they. Also at Kosei, she takes Haru's original role, and her mom is a lot worse in this. That's, pretty much what I have for her rn

And, the other two arcana that I've worked out

Star - transboy Haru, he/him. Transition started at 12, he got top in his second year, and of course, dating Makoto. They introduce him to Futaba, and the star social link is about Haru wanting to garden. He's a soft kinda guy, but he's scary with a bat

Death - Sae, cis. Happy Niijima siblings. Thats the reason.

Anyways that's the post. Gender Thieves.

feel free to send me asks about this I love these little gender kids

Stuff for this can be found under the tags 'Gender Thieves' and 'trans boy Haru' for older asks

[dandelionsandderivatives]

If you could only have 5 outfits (and weather didn’t matter) what would they be?

(Any time period, assume they don’t have to be practical for work dress code).

Oooh, fascinating question!

All right, so in real life, I cheat. I pick 5 outfits with a cohesive color palette, most of which are separates, so I can mix and match, and then I get more outfits. There are probably lots of greys and cream and teal, and 3 out of the 5 pairs of shoes are in some practical dark brown or grey leather.

However, let's assume that I am not allowed to cheat, and I can't mix-and-match outfits. Then I'm essentially ranking my top five movie/art outfits.

I think my strategy here is to pick an outfit from my top five decades. This is so very hard to narrow down!

1. As you are well aware, the 1850s is the first and dearest fashion love of my heart. I need at least one 1850s outfit with all the works. I think it's a basque bodice, with open neck, pagoda sleeves, and the frilliest white waist possible beneath. Silk or wool, I don't care too much, and since we're avoiding practicality I can go either way. Possibly wool, since I can go insane with soutache work on the hems (okay, maybe that's a bit more 1860s, but this is for me to wear in my fantasy world, so I'll do what I like). Dark blue or green; the bonnet is also silk, in lighter blue or green, with cream ribbon and feathers. I also get a mantle, of course, and we're going PLAID. Black watch tartan, I think, with trim in black braid. Double-breasted, and jet beads in strategic places. My skirts are of course too long to let my stockings show, but they are silk, and my petticoats take a shocking amount of starch.

Think the yellow dress here (image from Pinterest and I can't find an original source, but I'm guessing late 1850s), but in dark green or blue:

Or, perhaps more realistically, this beauty from the Victoria and Albert Museum:

You know what, this is going to be a long post. I'm going to have to add the rest in reblogs.