#sorry for ranting about art it WILL happen again forever

[sporesgalaxy]

just saw someone say "wanting to be good at an artistic endeavor isn't enough to make that a reality" followed by the assertion that this is why there are supposedly just some people better suited to making certain types of art, and there are some people who are not suited to make certain types of art. Im so angry. everyone has capacity to create in all mediums of art, it came free with your humanity dipshit!!!!!! "I decided to stop doing x art thing because what i made was just a pale imatation of what inspired me" YEAH THATS CALLED BEING A BEGINNER EVERYONE DOES THAT AT SOME POINT!!!!!! THEN YOU KEEP HONING YOUR SKILLS AND LEARNING HOW TO HARNESS THE MECHANISMS WITHIN THE MEDIUM TO CREATE THE THINGS YOU WANT!!!!! AND THEN THE REALLY HARD PART IS LEARNING YOUR OWN UNCONSCIOUS QUIRKS WHEN OPERATING WITHIN THE MEDIUM AND THEN LEARNING HOW TO USE THEM TO YOUR ADVANTAGE RATHER THAN WORKING AGAINST THEM. PLUS BEING "GOOD" ENOUGH TO PROFIT (which is the metric of "good" this person was going by in their argument as far as I could tell) SHOULD NOT EVEN HAVE TO BE PRIORITY NUMBER ONE WHEN CREATING ART BECAUSE ALL ART IS A FORM OF COMMUNICATION THAT HAS INHERENT VALUE BY VIRTUE OF COMMUNICATING SOMETHING. YES YOU CAN ANALYZE HOW EFFICIENTLY THE PIECES WORK TOGETHER TO COMMUNICATE AND THAT'S A VALUABLE LEARNING EXPERIENCE BUT IT IS NOT THE SAME THING AS MEASURING A PIECE OF ART'S WORTH AND CERTAINLY NEVER JUSTIFIES DECLARING AN ARTIST UNFIT TO CREATE IN A SPECIFIC MEDIUM

[texeoghea]

i keep thinking abt akechis unaddressed undiagnosed osdd swag

[exoticb-utters]

Hello!

So I saw that your requests were open, and would like to ask for a Hank McCoy (Wolverine and the X-Men) x Reader short story, if that isn't too much trouble. If that's not on the table, I'm sorry for bothering you.

YES OFC, I haven’t been writing much, and instead, I’ve been posting a lot more art so it’s about time I get back in touch with my roots 🙏🏽 (sorry this took me forever omg) pls enjoy 😘

Confessions

Hank x Mutant Reader Word Count: 2.7k Words

Mutant Power: Water Manipulation

You’ve been a member of the X-men for the last 3 years. Yes, that’s almost 3 years you’ve had a crush on Henry McCoy. 

I mean, how could you not? He was so sweet, and always put aside time for you whenever you needed it. He’s also, like, insanely hot…

While you do have a huge soft spot for Hank, everyone had given you a warm welcome when you joined of course, this team was your family. More of a family than your parents; who called you a freak for doing ‘tricks’ with their drinks.

You’d make frequent trips to the lab, knowing all too well there would be a big blue hermit waiting for you. As you did this, Hank could never bring himself to admit the embarrassing fact- but your frequent visits were the highlights of his day.

The rest of the team were amazing family to him of course, but no one checked in or visited Hank as often as you did.

Most of the time anyone usually ever came down was if they needed something; nothing this personal. It was new, but it was nice for a change. 

Your jokes with him never got old, and your smile that came with it could only make it better. The willingness you had to sit around and let him rant about the latest experiment that had him losing sleep, to even offer a hand with whatever he was struggling with. Your innocent praises glorifying how smart he was had him hiding his growing blush by looking behind a microscope. 

“I’m afraid blue blushes too, my dear…” He would joke, causing you to smile and chuckle. Ugh who loves a hot, funny nerd. You’d chuckle to yourself. 

Oh who was he kidding, Hank was head over heels. While he tries to use his brain to rationally sugar coat things, he knew he was helpless. 

Your attention to detail was incredible, you somehow remember all of his favorite things without fail. You were just so…thoughtful. 

He couldn’t help but feel a bit selfish, wanting more than your visits down to his lab, the long talks, your presence. He was going crazy.

Then, every night you’d find yourself laying awake in your thoughts, knowing he couldn’t possibly feel the same.

You’d never put your friendship on the line for something so…selfish. 

The thought ate away at your conscious, the numbing sound of your fan tuned out by your busy mind. You sigh, rolling over to your side while pulling your blanket with you. 

You don’t know why you were like this.

You and Hank are…friends. Which is fine- even though it hurts. You are fine with it, and you’ve been fine for the past 3 years.

…for the most part anyway. 

♡ ♡ ♡

You were now hanging out with Hank in his lab, legs dangling over the edge as you talked to each other. Something about a new opera showing happening in town.

Suddenly, you hear Xavier telepathically call for the rest of the X-Men to meet him in the control room, suited up. Must be a mission.

You were informed the Jaggernaut had escaped custody, again.

All X-Men that were on stand-by were now assigned on this task. The team consisted of you, Hank, Cyclops, Jean, Wolverine, Nightcrawler, and of course Storm. Stacked team if you say so yourself.

Everyone was in the Blackbird with the sole goal of neutralizing the Jaggernaut before he caused severe harm. 

Cyclops was put in charge, giving direct orders as he looked to you and Ororo. “I need you and Storm to direct him towards us, we need to keep him separated from civilians. Meaning I need a tall wall of water, Storm you freeze it making sure he won’t be able to get through.” 

You both looked to one another with nod. Scott then turns around to Hank who was piloting the jet. “Hank you go with them and watch from above and make sure things don’t get to out of hand. If they do we need your strength to counter-attack.” 

Hank replies with a “on it” before tilting the jet to left, bringing the stealth instrument closer to the designated location. 

“Logan you’re taking the wheel while those three get dropped down. Everyone else is with me.” Scott said finally while Hank clicked some buttons before switching with Logan. The bottom hatch of the plane opened up, allowing you, Storm, and Beast to exit. 

Storm flew to her position in the air, leaving you and Hank free falling towards the ground. Hank turned to look at you expectantly, blue hair blowing wildly in the wind. 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” You chuckle. You outstretched your arms towards a nearby pond you spotted earlier. Pulling your hands back to your chest in a stream-like manner, a large funnel of water shot out towards you and Hank. 

You grabbed Hank’s arm as the funnel reached you, changing the water into a shape similar to a slide with your free hand. You surfed down the water, holding onto Hank making sure he kept up- and knowing him, it was also preventing him from falling off.

As you neared the ground, you spun the water into a wide spiral to slow down your momentum for an easy landing. 

“I’m still impressed you can do that with your hands.” Hank comments as you reach the ground, earning an amused huff from you. “Well it took some practice,” You trail off, your eyes now looking at his crazy wind blown hair. 

“Actually, I’m more impressed your hair can take that shape…” You snort, biting on ur fist to hold in your laugh. It looked like he had an insane cowlick…well, maybe if the cow had 4 tongues.

“…what?” He said before quickly bringing up a hand to his hair. While he was busy fixing his crazed hair, you spot Storm flying over.

“I’ve located the Juggernaut, he’s down the street!” She briefly informs you before taking off, flying further down the street. 

“Right right, back to business.” You say, waving an arm around yourself to recollect your water. Hank takes off, leaping after Ororo as you ride your stream of water. 

You hear loud commotion around your surroundings the further you went, hopefully you arrived in time. You spot the Juggernaut on the street, wildly flipping cars as if he were in a mad rampage. One was now launched and flying in midair- towards you, specifically.  

You expertly weave around it, spinning upside down in doing so. Before he can flip anymore cars you jump, using all surrounding water to form a wall as Scott instructed. 

You hear a crack of thunder overhead as you land, the air chilling and the clouds growing darker. With a strong gust of wind, the walls you made froze over. You see Storm fly into view along with the rest of the X-Men behind you.

Beast jumps onto a light post, swinging on the end before propelling himself onto the large wall of ice.

The Juggernaut’s actions were now solely limited to facing the X-Men head on. Realizing this, he began charging with full force towards the rest of the team.

“Get his helmet off!!” Cyclops orders before bringing two fingers to his visor, firing off his laser beams.

Night Crawler bamfs around the brute, landing on his shoulders for brief moments, attempting to unlatch the dome.

You shape your water into a whip, ready to attack if the villain closes in. You see Storm raise her hands, calling down thunder as lightning begins to target the Jaggernaut.

You even see Jean pressing her temple with two fingers, using her telepathy with the other outstretched hand to slow down the pursuer.

He wavered just barely under her prowess, the strong bolts only slowing him down slightly before Wolverine decides it’s time he steps in.

With a growl, Logan leaps towards him with his adimantium claws extended before being swatted away by the Juggernaut’s large hand.

Not a moment later he grabs onto Nightcrawler and tosses him aside as well, throwing him on top of Wolverine.

The X-Men were losing options, and fast.

You had to do something.

You swing your water whip from underneath the Juggernaught before quickly whipping it back against his head, effectively tripping him and causing him to topple toward.

Before he could regain his footing completely, you call back all your water to blast him with as much force as you could muster.

And…It was working! He was regressing in distance.

…Until he took a step.

And then another.

And another.

It wasn't long before he began fully charging toward you.

Your concentrated expression quickly fell to one filled with fear and disbelief. “Watch out!” You heard Jean, Scott, and Cyclops warn in unison.

Their cries were all in vain, a large hand splashing out of the water had taken hold of your face. You felt your feet lift off the ground as you were directly dangling in the air, at the mercy of an unstoppable force. In this position, the Jaggernaught could easily crush your skull if he so pleased.

“I will find Xavier. And I will make him pay.” The brute speaks as his grip on your head steadily tightens, your chest burning as you screamed in sheer horror at the increasing pressure.

From above, Hank was almost hesitant to give away his position as the others before you attacked- he knew they could hold their own. But watching you face the Juggernaught head-on…Seeing how your life was in such jeopardy, hearing your screams, Hank had no second thoughts about intervening and saving you.

With a distant roar, you hear Beast come down on the Juggernaut. He releases you, but at the cost of you falling; and of course- hitting your head on the pavement.

Your head began pounding, ears ringing as the corners of your vision grew fuzzy with dark spots. All you could see was a flurry of blue viciously wrestling with a large brownish blob. More figures rushed into the picture before a redhead precluded your vision, concern written all over her face.

“Stay with me! Don’t close your eyes and just listen to my voice…“ Her words began to fade out as the black dots in your vision clouded the world around you.

Your head rolled to the side, your closing eyes finding the blue figure before your heavy eyelids inevitably shut.

Hank.

♡ ♡ ♡

You slowly awoke to a steady beeping of a monitor nearby, your eyes softly fluttering open. Looking up to the ceiling, you recognized it as the flat cement ceiling of Hank’s Lab.

Before you could get up, you felt the intense throbbing pain coming from the back of your head. Had you really hit your head that hard?

Well if it had knocked you clean out it must’ve been…

“You’re awake!” You hear a familiar voice call out to your right. It wasn’t long before a blue face came into view, blocking the blinding glare of the overhead fluorescent lights.

“How are you feeling?!?” Your vision slowly focused in on the figure in front of you. “Good…I think.” You slowly sit up, rubbing the back of your head tenderly.

You notice you had an IV inserted into your right forearm. Without another thought you removed it, ready to go…to wherever you were needed.

“Woah, there- you should slow down it’s been…a bit and you're still recovering.” Hank warns, grabbing your wrist to keep you from moving any further.

You looked to his face…he was worried??? “Hank, I’m fine! See?” You said reassuringly; though, Hank himself didn’t find himself too convinced.

“Hey, what are you so worried about?” You ask, brows drawn together hoping to get a straight answer out of him.

He was worried about you, obviously. You suffered several traumatic head injuries within a short span of time! If you had not been a mutant…he didn’t even want to think of the possible outcomes of that situation.

Hank sighed heavily, organizing his racing thoughts. “I thought I’d lost you.” He managed to drag out.

Huh?

Scared??

That he lost...YOU?!?

“Hank, I think I’ve suffered greater injuries. You should know this.” You say with a small laugh before quickly stopping, his solemn expression instantly killing your attempt to lighten the mood.

His large hands grab your wrists firmly. “You have been out for a month.” His words shook you, so much so that you found yourself shaking your head in disbelief.

You hadn’t been out for longer than a day, right?

Hank must’ve sensed your reluctancy to believe your current situation because he started again. “You suffered several fractures to your skull, luckily, nothing broken or opposing threats to your brain. Unfortunately the stress your skull took on added with the hard contact of the ground practically split your head open.” He explained, running a hand down his tired face.

You hadn’t realized this had happened. “But I’m…I’m okay now, aren’t I?” You ask hesitantly, raising a hand up carefully to the back of your head. You felt stitches, running up the back of your head. Your stomach dropped.

“I performed an emergency medical procedure…which I won’t go into details with you so soon…” He sighed heavily once again, plopping down in his wheeled office chair.

“I hadn’t realized…” You quietly trailed off while fidgeting with your fingers out of nervous habit.

Hadn’t realized what? How bad the situation was? How worried the other X-Men must be? How much Hank went through to make sure you were well?!?

“Please, it isn’t your fault. If anything, this situation has made me realize something…” Now it was Hank’s turn to dramatically pause, his head in his large, blue hands.

“What? What is it?” You ask nervously, fearing your health was in critical condition at this point.

He grabbed you by the shoulders once again, looking into your eyes deeply, “Because…because I fear I’m falling in love with you.”

You stared in utter shock. Had you heard him correctly? He feels the same way?!?

“I-I want to come home to you, to kiss you like it’s been eons since I last saw your face. I need you safe, I don’t know how I’ll live with myself if you aren’t-” You didn’t need to hear anymore. 

You grabbed him by his lab coat, pulling him into you as your lips pressed together in a flurry of passion.

He held onto you, hungrily chasing after your lips as he poured all the love he’d helplessly held in for so long.

Your hands slowly slid up his broad chest and towards his neck, finding themselves tangled in his soft hair. “Hank” You sighed against his lips, the kiss ripping all oxygen from your lungs and leaving you breathless in the process.

He groans into your mouth in response, his tongue running against your bottom lip, silently begging for access.

Your heated ‘session’ was abruptly cut short by the lab door sliding open. Hank shot up, nearly taking a tumble trying to remove himself from you- to avoid any suspicion of…previous actions of course.

Though, the scene didn’t look too convincing; seeing how Hank’s glasses laid crooked on his face and his hair was well tussled. You had to cover your giggle at his appearance.

It was Morph, Cyclops, and Logan. They all start laughing, causing the rest of the X-men to come in, groaning in defeat.

“Woah, woah- were all of you just standing outside the door?!?” Hank exclaimed.

“Pay up, daddy’s waiting.” Logan holds out a hand expectantly towards the other X-Men, a smirk displayed across his face while completely ignoring Hank.

“I knew I should’ve bet with Logan.” Rogue mumbles, fishing out money from her pockets along with the rest of the team.

Oh yes. This was only the beginning of a long, beautiful (and heavily teased) relationship with Hank.

I hope you enjoyed this cute little one-shot! ;)

If you want more like this or want something written, please hit up my ask box! Requests are always open 💕 Until next time🫡🫡

-Mae

[blueskittlesart]

This is a request for further information on your sticker shop situation with the Nintendo copyright strikes? If you feel like answering/ranting about it if you want. Why did they take your sticker? And who did it? What does an artist's work have to do with their copyright right now specifically and what did you mean about the Rebubble tagging system? I have no idea how rebubble works lmao. I have trouble understanding these things sometimes, that's why I'm asking, I don't want to appear rude or demanding or anything.

Sorry about your sticker, I would've loved to buy that one :/

ok so the gist of it is that nintendo doesn’t want anyone selling unauthorized merch of their characters, regardless of the actual legality of said merchandise. fanart is in kind of a gray area in terms of what is transformative and what isn’t, so whether or not it’s legal to sell is. questionable. because redbubble doesn’t want to have to claim legal responsibility in the event that something on their site IS found to violate copyright law in court, they allow corporations to set guidelines about what kind of content related to their IP they allow on the site. nintendo’s guidelines appear to prohibit any original art based on the legend of zelda to be sold on redbubble. of course, redbubble has millions of users with millions of individual products, so rather than actually manually checking each upload for copyrighted content they have filters on the tag and title system, so anything uploaded with tags or titles related to legend of zelda gets “reviewed” and will be stuck in review forever and never actually go live on the artist’s store. most artists, myself included, get around this by naming their art vaguely and not tagging the actual IP so that we can get past the filters. this is why all the loz stuff on my store is named like “knight and princess” instead of “link and zelda.” what i assume happened with the sticker that got taken down is that it somehow ended up in front of a real person rather than an automated copyright checker, and that real person was able to recognize the IP for what it was. again, redbubble is obligated to either comply with nintendo or shell out lawyer money, so it’s not their fault this happens, it’s nintendo’s. i think that one thing that also might have contributed to that specific sticker going down is that it involved a korok, which is a very recognizable species specific to loz, whereas some of my other “knight and princess” art is ambiguous enough that it COULD conceivably be another set of characters. anyway that’s the gist of it. thankfully i haven’t had anything else taken down so far, but because that artwork is now flagged i can’t put the sticker back up without risking my whole shop going down. such is the life of a fanart creator unfortunately

[golby-moon]

so an unspecified number of months ago I read this great fic (linked below) and was inspired to make art for it but alas, bang responsibilities happened. the line art for this has been sitting around forever and I finally found the time to color, shade, and throw a background on this bad boy and now I finally get to chuck it at the author's head as promised

(sorry for taking forever gfhfjfi)

so yeah I wanted to have two scenes for this as sort of a before/after, which is also reflected in the colors of the clothes (or towel) matching the other person's color in the second pic whereas they kinda clash in the first (Cas' bright shirt vs Dean's drabber one). also I tried something newish with the background where it's there but hopefully not super attention drawing idk thoughts? and yeah the roofs are like that on purpose. also also tried something new with the tears idk hopefully that looks okay

(also also also if that first drawing's poses look familiar, it's because I used it before in an old art piece that idk I never really liked for a few reasons that I rant about in the tags a bit and can explain more but I saw it again the other day and wanted to kinda rectify that as kind of a redraw. idk I think it looks better now with the proportions all rounded off and the lines a bit smoother, though Dean's arm is a bit too long here I'm realizing. oh well. any shorter and their faces would've been touching so what can you do)

((I say also too much))

the fic this is made for is called "Of Curses and Bee-Colored Mittens" by @destielshipper4cas

(fic is locked for people who aren't signed into AO3)

(06/05/24)

[grav3yardbb92]

Ronnie Radke x f!reader

my mom, his mom, my sister.....'. "sigh"

I scribble down a list of people to make invitations for. My boyfriend, Ronnie, proposed to me last week and we are rushing to get married before he leaves on tour.

My mind shifts to how our relationship started.

(Two years ago)

I'm sitting on a couch in this crowded club, with a fake smile painted on my face. It's my birthday, I should be happy right? Nope, not when my best friend since forever, Katie, is almost an hour late.

"Hey, Y/N" I turn around, hoping to see Katie, instead I only see her boyfriend, Ronnie. He sits down next to me.

"Katie's not with you" I ask hopefully

" uh, no, she should've been here already. " " speaking of...." He trails off and hands over a gift bag" this is from both of us".

" oh, thanks " I reply, trying to cheer myself up. He smiles lightly, then excuses himself to get a drink.

Ten minutes later, Ronnie returns with two drinks in his hand, passing one over to me." Still on Katie, huh?" I shake my head and down my drink." Maybe she forgot" " no, I'm sure she's just stuck in traffic " he replied." Well why don't you open your gift, I'm sure she won't mind" he says, picking up the bag and dangling it on his finger in front of my face. I smile and take the bag, when I look inside, I couldn't believe my eyes. In the bag, was a state of the art camera, the same one I was looking at just a few days ago.

" that's the one you wanted, right?"

" uh, yeah, but how did yo...." " Ryan saw you with one in the store, he told me that your eyes almost popped out of their sockets" he said while dramatically popping open his hands in front of his face. I couldn't help but bust out laughing at his antics, which only doubled when Jackie and Ryan joined us on the couch.

I fiddled with the camera for a few minutes, figuring out all its functions, then I began taking goofy pictures of my silly group of friends. I had to work the next day, so i decided to head home." One last picture! " Ryan screams, while snatching my camera from me. I roll my eyes and place a large and very real smile on my face. Just as the camera flashes, Ronnie jumps up beside me and plants a kiss on my cheek. He then blushes and disappeared. I was confused and sad so I went to look for him.

I found him outside,looking upset."Ronnie? What happened?" " nothing Y/N, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. It's just, I seem to spend more time with you than I do my own girlfriend and.... And I..." He trailed off again, looking away as tears threatened to pour from his eyes. " And what?...Ronnie?" I say grabbing a s shoulder and turning him to look at me." Nothing, just forget it" " I can't, because I'm pretty sure I know what you want to say, at least I hope so, cause I feel the same" I say to him, feeling a huge releif in finally telling him how I feel.

Before I could say another word, his lips were on mine and my back was gently pushed against the wall. The kiss gets heated quickly and we end up in a full on make out session out side the club.

" WHAT THE FUCK" we freeze in place as we both recognize that voice.

Ronnie take a step toward her "Katie, I can explain"

" no Ronnie, don't." I pipe in, walking up to him and taking his hand." We don't have to explain anything to you, this is not the first time you have left me and him alone...you are late all the fucking time. What did you think would happen. I like Ronnie and he likes me and there is nothing you can do or say to change that" I rant out at her, letting out years of frustration toward her.

She crosses her arms and looks toward Ronnie, probably hoping he will deny everything I just said and pull her into his arms.

" don't look at me like that, we are through, she is your best friend and she is amazing, she doesn't deserve to be treated like shit by you or anybody." " whatever asshole" she says stomping away into the club.

Ronnie then looks to me" you are wrong about one thing, I don't like you.... " he notices my smile fade and he takes my face into his tattooed hands" I love you Y/N, always have and always will".

(Present day)

I am suddenly brought out of my memories by the door closing." Babe?" I hear Ronnie call out." Upstairs" I call back. I look down at the list of names in front of me. Ronnie comes in and follows my gaze." Why are you inviting her?" I smile and reply" I'm not"

I then grab an envelope and scribble her name on it. I then find a blank card and write a short message.before I seal the envelope, Ronnie takes it from me and smiles after reading:

'Katie, thanks for being fashionably late'.

[localgardenweed]

Ok I was originally gonna write how I wanna go back to Eddsworld and do stuff for it again but felt out of the loop with the modern fandom and shit but ended up being a rant about how I hate Beyond so like gonna write this again but keeping part of the rant cause i need to share how much i cant stand Beyond again

So like I wanna come back to Eddsworld cause as much as it was a dumpster fire for me it was my first real fandom I was apart of online so it holds a place in my heart. I mean probably technically whatever I did on Framecast was my first ever online fandom space but shhhh that dont count i was but a wondering traveler looking for my place in the world. It actually got me into Eddsworld someone made a animation to Youth by Daughter and had me hooked. But still was very important to me and my art development.

Its so crazy to me cause i was into Eddsworld HARD in the 2016-2020 era where alot of the ig modern fandom was born i watched cities fall and crumble I was deep in the amino trenches, Pork Sodaing and seeing so much historical fandom events happen before your eyes. I was watching everyone consume every piece of Prince of Mints and Moho art I was a sucker for them which probably wasn’t okay for like a 5th grader but i definitely turned out all right /j.

I left for a little bit on and off cause Hetalia was choking me and like keeping me prisoner but like it still had a place in my heart for it but like ya know i still was there but idk now I just dont find the same spark anymore from the first go around. Something changed and maybe cause i just had my tastes change and maybe cause my ex-best friend was making fun of my oc all the time but i made him when i was like 11 and figuring out identities and ways to express yourself without sticking to the gender norms and dealing with alot of stuff at the time i finally caved and just didn’t feel the same any anymore about the show.

Cause I loved that fandom more than anything but, I don’t know I just don’t know how to get back that spark and go frolic in the fields with my TomTordOc love triangle of my 5th grader dreams and just be cringe and free and feel joy again but I just cant enjoy the material anymore like THEY ARE MASSACRING MY BOYS WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO THEMM

It doesn’t hit the same and i know i dont need to consume Beyond i doubt anyone actually does at this point but i cant stand beside while they murder everything i loved about the Classic and Legacy eras.

Also just, I think I hit a road block with it too like, I got stuck on where to do and what to do with Eddsworld like. I make aus i made ocs i made a ask blog i made animatics, now what? And like idk i felt weird and like stuck in the mud with them. Also just had the friend falling out who was also the co-creator of the ask blog so now i dont know how to pick it back up all by myself again but them again i really was just doing it by myself all the time anyway so i just have to figure out how to get back into the swing of things

I have some ideas for aus and maybe just finally be free and bring my oc back from the grave for realsies and make you all consume it but, I don’t know. Im scared to come back cause also weirdly alot of the new fans are younger than me or the older fans are older than me so its kinda awkward, also im just awkward im scared to talk to people online, there is and were some people i desperately wanted to be friends with both in and out of Eddsworld but im too scared and either just watch from afar or abuse the Anonymous function in ask boxes. 

If i cave enough i might come back to Eddsworld to at least finish my lore for the ask blog cause IM SORRY I LEFT YALL HANGING I HAD SCHOOL AND THEN JUST FORGOT ABOUT IT but forever haunted by the people who like every single post and then i get excited cause i see like 99+ notes waiting for me and i think one of my new posts blew up but no its just the ew boys who screw around likes and reblog and the occasional comment

One day ill return to my rightful birthplace and one day I shall be free and one with nature and draw as much as I want for it and as many ocs i want without someone telling me its cringe or make more for the ask blog or hell start doing animation and animatics again

Ok here is the Beyond rant now if you wanna read it

I feel the difference between Beyond and Legacy is that, Beyond is trying to horriblycopy their older brothers Classic and Legacy and almost dumb it down a bit with more childish humor, and Legacy takes inspiration from Classic: It’s different but a natural difference/evolution. Or the fact a whole new guy was writing it all with a slightly different style so he wrote what he knew idk maybe a bit of a factor idk

Also i cant stand the Tord bait sorry I cant, especially when they used to like get annoyed by the fandom by asking and then just realized he was a cash cow so like now we get Tord merch and the hints and Tori and the skit with the cavemen like OMG TORD- and he got crushed by a rock thanks gang, cause like dude I think as much as we love Tord like maybe this go around respect Larson’s choice to like not use him in the series anymore and take him out but like ig that doesn’t apply to merch so yeah lets do one more go around bring out the red one. Or idk maybe they contacted him and was like “yo dude can we like use him for merch” but i dont think that happened. I think it was just better to leave him absent from the show and be like “yeah no Tord guys, no Tord” and we could have all had our thumbs up and be like “Ok Eddsworld Beyond we are okay with that”. Like I know Red October was for charity but idk it still felt weird to use Tord, like could this really not have just been the main 3 or like bring in some deep cut old characters or side characters did we really need Tord here.

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

Scar anon again I'm so sorry for sending consecutive asks but mashima really made the coolest dude + team ever (laxus n the raijinshuu in case it wasn't obvious) and then refused to elaborate like???good sir I would have paid for a full series of Them?? The raijinshuu are so criminally underutilised like I want to know their backstories!! I want to know how they came to join fairy tail!!! I start frothing at the mouth everytime I think about how mashima did the raijinshuu so dirty esp during the Tartarus arc ;- ; anyways sorry for the rant it's like 4 am and I'm having many Thoughts ok that's all from me for real this time 👍🏼 peace!

Everything after Tartarus is my villain origin story lol, not even joking. It's so messy.

Im not singing praises for everything before it ofc there was some jank from beginning to gmg but after tartarus' end the story and characterization really seemed to start coming apart at the seams and it really tanked everything even though at that stage mashima's art was 10/10. Which is a shame bcus tartarus really was a step in the right direction tonally but it just stopped right there. Copped a massive W then tossed it out for consecutive L's.

But yea man! Laxus and his squad! Laxus will forever be a sorta sore spot for me because of the dropped Dreyar family plot thread. The whole dealio with Ivan, Makarov sending Gajeel to spy on him, Laxus' lone adventures. It really could've culminated in either a small side arc or a B-plot of an already existing arc

(I personally would add it into Tenrou. Take Gajeel off tenrou to have him doin his spy gig, accidentally meet up with Laxus during that, plot details regarding the dreyar family happen all while the events of tenrou go down. The duo gets wind of Grimoire Heart heading to tenrou from Raven Tail due to all dark guilds sharing info. The duo head over to tenrou post haste and allowing gajeel to carry out the iconic gajevy moment where he saves her and justifying why Laxus ended up on Tenrou instead of just randomly showing up at the nick of time. But alas, details lol)

Thunder Legion's always been interesting to me though. I'll admit i dont think about them often but they are a pretty unique squad with varying personalities across the board that, on paper, you probs wouldn't expect em to be friends, let alone friends that close and loyal to one another.

Their magics are also a main point of interest because it really is so out there. Freed in essence has an upgraded solid script (plus those unused transformations the beast lookin one from fantasia and the more streamlined one from tenrou), Evergreen has the petrification magic (alongside her main magic with the energy attacks) and Bickslow? Soul manipulation? That can't be legal man. The magic system in FT is really underexplained and has a anything goes sorta deal (hello summoning gods) but man, i would've loved something there for these 3- power limits or drawbacks, how it works, whether its magic they naturally manifested or learned or both. Something along those lines.

And while i don't think a backstory would've been necessary for them per se, because at the end of the day they still are side characters so relevancy of the information learned throughout the story dictates how much is really needed to be known and this extends to learning about how they joined the guild as well (i personally think they all joined as adults tbh. I know a lotta peeps like to think of em as a teen friendship squad but i really prefer it they were an adult friend group. Having a friendship that strong forming in their 20s feels right to me), but i think even a one line or 2 regarding their pasts could come up in conversation for that information to come up naturally.

Like for eg. Freed gives off rich kid energy, so perhaps he's a runaway rich kid like herself but not from Fiore, that could be revealed in a convo with Lucy at some point to strike common ground between the two. Evergreen feels like an orphaned soul turned away (i personally think she gives off Jessie from pokemon vibes) by others a lot so why not a kinship with her and Juvia or even Mirajane? Bickslow the wild card could spout jokes about his acrobatic skills he learned from being a street performer, just something. They're not perfect concepts no, but they're little ways the characters could've been given even a scrap of info to help learn more about em.

Also uhhhh, it always threw me off that they weren't all S-class wizards so i think it would've been cooler if they were a whole squad of s class wizards who attempted a guild coup instead of just 1 s class and his homies. Aight byeeeeee.

[havockingboo]

I'm not sure of you take doodle/art requests or anything, but I'm so so curious about what the scene might look like if papyrus finally defeated Frisk... Would he be melancholy or victorious? Would he feel guilty or triumphant or empty?? Would he silently walk away from the battle scene all broody and intimidating or would he do it with a numb look on his face?? I'm so curious??

If you mean like. kill frisk. That will never happen. It’s not in Papyrus nature to hurt, let alone KILL someone.

One of the biggest and most obvious trait of Papyrus’ is how he has never and I mean never killed you no matter how much you push him to in game. He literally stops attacking you at 1 ONE HP AND THE DUDE STILL SPARES YOU WHEN YOU FAIL MULTIPLE TIMES. He just won’t quit!! That is not who he is!!! Literally Undyne says herself that she can’t let Papyrus become a Royal Guard because he’s too nice!! He never wants to cause harm!!! Not with violent or malicious intent! The only reason he even battles you is because he believes capturing a human will help him show Undyne that he deserves to apart of the royal guard, it’s like his one way ticket in if he captures you!! HE NEVER WANTED TO HURT YOU AND THAT WILL STILL HOLD FOREVER TRUE EVEN IN THIS AU

Sorry I ranted but I wanted to say that outloud so bad!! Back to the question!!

The better question would be “how CLOSE was Papyrus to killing “Frisk”.” Well, very close. Multiple times in multiple Genocide resets.

But like I said. No matter what, and I swear, no matter how much the player hurts him, kills him, resets the timeline, toys with him, over and over again…he still believes, just maybe if he just did something different each time, maybe just maybe that will convince you to stop. It’s only to a certain point where his trust in you dwindles into a small spec of hope, and the big push to really stopping you really begins. He tries to shove himself out of his comfort zone which is sparing you, Papyrus legit tries to be more aggressive with his attacks in order to get you to give up. But it’s hard, it’s so so damn hard for him to…kill you. How on Earth did any monster do this?? He hesitates, every time he’s close to making it all stop, he gets scared.

“I HAVE TO STOP YOU. I CAN’T GIVE UP. NOT NOW. NO MATTER WHAT. I CAN’T LET YOU KEEP TORTURING MONSTERS LIKE THIS…I’LL DEFEAT YOU. I’LL STOP YOU!! I WILL STOP YOU EVEN IF I HAVE T-……WHAT?…WHAT AM I DOING…??…NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO. THIS…THIS ISN’T RIGHT…I…I CAN’T DO IT. I WON’T DO IT! THIS ISN’T HOW I WANT TO STOP YOU!! I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU! I NEVER WANTED TO…WHY…WHY ARE YOU PUSHING ME TO DO THIS. YOU-…WE…WE’RE FRIENDS!! FRIENDS DON’T HURT OTHER FRIENDS…IS IT BECAUSE YOU FORGOT? I WOULDN’T BE SURPRISED KNOWING HOW MANY TIMES YOU’VE RESET THIS TIMELINE ALREADY!! GOOD THING I CAN’T FORGET A SINGLE THING FROM THOSE RESETS. NYEH…HEH…HEH………WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS.…WHY I JUST- I DON’T UNDERSTAND!! I’M TRYING SO HARD TO HELP YOU. I WANT TO HELP YOU, PLEASE. [PLAYER NAME] “FRISK”…I KNOW…YOU…COULD DO BETTER…PLEASE, I-I KNOW YOU’RE TIRED RIGHT NOW. YOU MUST BE EXHAUSTED. YOU HAVE MADE SO MANY RESETS SO MANY TIMES THAT YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE DISCOVERED EVERY SECRET IN THE UNDERGROUND NYEH……HEH…WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT.”

Papyrus just wanted to be friends with you. To help you. That’s all he could ever ask for now.

So…if Papyrus does succeed in stopping the player from resetting again and actually convinces them to do a true reset, then he’d feel relieved. Exhausted, but really, really relieved that it’s all over.

And somewhat proud of himself for keeping his INTEGRITY after going through hell.

[cozymochi]

im so sorry people are being assholes in the comments of ur iz animatics :((( they bring such joy and are so well done!! forever grateful that you share you art <3 even if you decide to take them down i just wanted to let you know that you are appreciated <3<3<3 hoping your day goes well and you find small unexpected delights

I don’t plan on taking them down. That carnal part of me gets a lil’ joy when I still see nice comments anyway. It’s only been a year, but I still get comments! So that’s crazy.

BUT!!

Another fear I do have is the response if I do post again, and it’s completely different than what those 2.4k subs are expecting to see. I’ve already warned about it literally a year in advance, and then again very recently in multiple places. Idk why I SHOULD be uneased by it, but it’s not like IZ fans are quiet when it comes to their distaste when something changes. *cough.* It’s part of why I’ve distanced myself from that fandom (there’s a myriad of reasons but still).

Insanity incoming:

I don’t have immediate plans to make more animatics, they’re kind of long term thing to consider. Back when I used to make them I had NOTHING but free time and my biggest concern was feeding myself cuz my home environment was horrid and I had zero means of leaving since I lived in bum fuck nowhere! Since my last yt upload I moved out, was in a car wreck (not even 2 days in), my own car went through thousands of dollars in repairs, i got a job, went through a period where I worked nearly 100hrs for several months consecutively with hardly any breaks, and to think! It wasn’t and it’s still not sustainable. Things changed. And I do not want to go “home.” After being forced to visit family again a month ago I especially don’t want to go back.

The channel was literally a dumping ground. I got those 2k subs when I wasn’t posting for a year. So! You can imagine I might not be prioritizing a channel I only used as a dumping ground or in a state to make fully or even barely boarded videos and shitposts weekly or monthly. Idk what these people want from me schedule wise. I make $0 from it, and monetizing for a few cents isn’t worth it. I didn’t even get paid when I made thumbnails and assets for bigger channels lmfao. Yeah, I did do that. Wouldn’t know tho. Paid in “exposure” hurr hurr or “omg i need that money myself XDD cmon” whatever backwards excuse.

So what’s next in line but a bunch of strangers with fickle attention being passive aggressive and demanding I make more stuff when I say multiple times that I don’t intend to, and if I do (big if) it WON’T be what they came here for. They aren’t paying me. It’s not like I have a gajillion other things to be concerned about.

…Okay, that was a tangent.

Those few condescending comments make me just wanna outright cancel what iz stuff was left on the backburner. It was more like an indefinite hiatus until I can stomach finishing them. The files take up space anyway for the projects I’m actually interested in. Even if all of them are purely hypotheticals until I can get my focus together (which isn’t likely to happen anytime soon).

sorry about the TMI rant for a second but!! MAN!! It’s frustrating! If anything I could very well take them down. But, I won’t. Besides, for all I know some tiktok took some and it’s getting an exponentially higher amount of views anyway. I should at least keep mine…

It’s not like i don’t WANT to use it for actual new things, but the sheer pressure keeps me away. I get enough pressure to make animatics offline as it is. And if someone out there is gonna be all like “well who cares what those kids think” believe me, I get it and I promise don’t care. But at the same time it’s egghhhhhh. I delete the comments anyway.… however that doesn’t mean they still won’t bug me.

Considering all of the above it’s a miracle I don’t just take them down.

[cactiired]

Hello same anon from before with the Lis question,

I completely understand. I’m sorry you were in a dark place during that time where you were really into Lis. I truly am. And also you don’t have to explain yourself about archiving your old works it’s YOUR art at the end of the day. I get it must me hella frustrating when people keep asking about grahamscott or any old fandom. I understand you. Lis is a special game to you, but you were just in a very dark place that it just if you get back into it, it’ll might make you feel the same way you felt when you were in it. Also I get you might feel like you’re only known for Lis art of grahamscott art, but your dnd art is honestly I prefer it. This might sound weird, but I can see in your art that you truly enjoy your art now more than you used to. So i understand the archiving. You don’t have to get back into Lis so quickly or any time soon, it’s hard to just be into a fandom for so long. And god have you been in the Lis fandom for a really really long time.

Thank you for answering my question from before and keep on drawing beautifully❤️!

Hi, again anon!

I truly appreciate this so thank you :,)

It is a bit frustrating sometimes even though I know people don't mean any harm by asking about it. I guess that's the thing with social media. What you once posted will forever haunt you lmao

I was active in the fandom for a bit over 2 years I think? It is quite a long time especially when you consider that I am just 19 years old so that is a notable portion of my life. Also with that comes the inevitable cringing at your old self especially because big changes happen during those years. Simply put, I grew up.

I genuinely feel like I was such a child back then (I mean, I was 16 when I got into LIS so legally a kid still) and a lot of stuff that appealed to me was very much connected to my situation and life experience. This includes Life is strange. I wouldn't exactly say I grew out of it because that sounds too much like implying the game is "too childish" for me now but for example, the appeal of fanon Grahamscott was very much in the angst/comfort aspect of the ship because I related to Nathan as a character at the time. Probably mostly because of my experience with mental illness and dysfunctional family dynamics. After I moved out and cut ties with some family I was finally able to start recovering and respecting myself by setting boundaries. It truly did wonders for my health and self-image. I no longer needed LIS in the same way I had before. I remember a friend saying that he knows he's doing terrible mentally whenever Nathan Prescott as a character becomes relatable and I think that rings true for me as well.

But yeah end of LIS rant. It really means a lot hearing that because I feel that way about my art now. I don't know how to explain it but something about starting playing DnD with a group of close friends of mine really re-ignited a long-lost passion for fantasy art that I had had as a young kid. It reminded me of why I started drawing in the first place. I suddenly became so fixated on my own characters and their stories that it naturally improved my art because I started consuming more and more art from other fantasy artists that inspired me. Also since I have come to the conclusion that I want to make art my career I started taking my work more seriously than I had in my fandom days. I actually started thinking about what I truly wanted from art. Not just what would get me the most likes and comments but what makes me feel content. What I want to express and depict in my art.

To me personally, there is a stark difference in my art now compared to what it was in my LIS days for example. Not just in my technical skills but also in my passion for what I do.

[scorpionyx9621]

While the art is left to be desired (i'm hope i use this ohrase right, my english is awful). I suprised that i found future state!Jason to be more enjoyable than Urban Legend one. Like he's way more capable there and [spoiler alert] also Bruce depend on him and still call him son? So you can have a bad ass Jason and good son jason at the same time.

So I need to apologize because this turned into a rant about Jason's characterization as whole and MAN is it long-winded and I'm sorry.

I have to agree. I really like the characterization Future State/Dark Detective is going for with Jason.

Jason is still the typical Jason we've grown to expect. Cold, cynical, snarky, willing to cross the dark red line and kill if need be, but he's still shown to have emotions. When he's betraying the family it's vocalized by Jason that he's upset about the situation. He doesn't want to, but he must for the mission Bruce put him under.

Truth be told, I'm not fully caught up on Future State/Dark Detective. I've kind of been reading spoilers and just getting the general gist in the periphery from people like you on Tumblr. I've been more focused on Urban Legends, which, while I will say I still don't hate the story, hell we still have two issues left of Cheer, and I by no means think Chip Zdarsky is a bad writer by any means. His characterization of Jason irks me.

*God I was so on the fence about Eddy Barrow's take on Jason until Issue #3. That right there? THAT. That's a handsome ass man Maurry*

ANYWAYS: I'm irked by Zdarsky's take on Jason just because of how hot headed and brash Jason is. Now don't get me wrong, every main writer for Jason has taken a bit of a different spin and while the big characters who have written Jason (Judd Winnick, Scott Lobdell, Tony Daniel) and while Zdarsky seems to be what I'm hoping to be a bit of a medication of Jason & Bruce's relationship. He's doing it at the expendature of Jason's characterization of being a damn near criminal mastermind.

If we focus on Winnick and Daniel's interpretation of Jason (Winnick wrote the original Under the Hood & Lost Days. Daniels wrote Battle for the Cowl) as well as all Pre-New 52 versions of Jason. Jason is a monster. Like genuinely a horrible human being. He still fights for right moral side (he kills mostly child abusers/drug traffickers and the likes) but this Jason is genuinely unhinged and while smart, he's absolutely monster. Hell, in Battle for the Cowl after hearing Bruce's final words, he has a villainous breakdown. Dresses as batman, and starts killing people. Judd Winnick himself said he sees Jason as a 'Psychopath' and there are a lot of very vocal people who say Winnick's original interpretation of Jason as a violent, misanthropic villain is the superior version and that Jason should return to this.

*I love to point out that I made a post on my alt account questioning Jason's age in this issue. Turns out he's Like SEVENTEEN. I get why they draw him older and more mature because of his darker/more villainous tendencies. But there's something kind of True Crime Podcast host fascination I have with this greasy, crusty, 17 year old who just casually kills 30 mobsters in horrific gun violence and calls it a day.*

Then we have the New 52. And in comes Red Hood & The Outlaws + the eventual Red Hood: Outlaw series. Piloted by the one Scott Lobdell. Now I know a lot of people dislike Lobdell for his takes on certain characters, his all-over-the-place writing style. (Let's not forget his allegations of SA and the fact that he openly admits that he wrote Jason as a self-insert for a 'bad guy seeking redemption') this was my first comic experience with Jason and to be honest, I can't bring myself to hate it. Sure there's some parts that literally show how much of a dumpster fire Lobdell's writing can become, but for the most part I genuinely liked the characterization of Jason that Lobdell gives. Jason may be a bit more reactionary and just kind of making shit up as he goes along, but he's far from dumb. The intro to the series has Jason sneaking into a terrorist run nuclear sub and killing everyone inside.

Again: Lobdell's writing is all of the place. But I do like that his take on Jason is a bit more subdued. I know in the New 52 they wanted to make Jason an Anti-Hero. Someone who very much still driven by emotion and revenge. But he's definetly more relaxed and even has a lot of fun. Intelligence wise he has is moments, but it does emphasize that while he may be the best read Robin, he does have a tendency to leap before he looks. Also all the art for RHATO with the exception of a few series were TOP TIER. I understand why they hired artists like Kenneth Rocafort and Dexter Soy to rehabilitate his image. I mean, come on.

Now if we're talking about Jason's intelligence, I'd be absolutely remiss if I didn't discuss Red Hood: Outlaw and the Price of Gotham Arc. Specifically this exchange between Bruce & Jason. To me, this is the single best part of Lobdell's run and shows Jason's true intelligence.

To give a rundown: After Bruce banished Jason from Gotham after seemingly killing the Penguin. Bruce proceeded to find Jason and literally beat him to within an inch of his life. It took MONTHS for Jason to recover. A lot happens but mostly Jason finds out (from Bruce no less) that Penguin is still alive. Jason hatches a devious plan. He takes over the iceberg lounge, kidnaps and holds Penguin hostage. Publically outs himself as Jason Todd, the dead ward of Bruce Wayne, as alive and well, and the new owner of the Iceberg Lounge.

When Bruce finds out he's clearly pissed and goes to confront Jason because he's banished him from Gotham. But because Jason outed himself as alive and one of Bruce's sons. Batman can do NOTHING. Jason has Bruce by the balls. If Bruce does anything to Jason while he's out and alive as Jason, all Jason has to do is tell the truth. And the whole Batman jig is up in an instant. And Bruce? After these panels? He runs off with his tail between his leg because he can't touch Jason. And all Jason did was capture penguin, and come out as alive. THIS is the Jason that I love. This is the Jason that strikes fear into people's hearts.

I think a lot of the general complaints we see about Jason as a whole is just how inconsistent he is with his writing. Which I agree. It's hard to characterize Jason well when there's been a character like Lobdell who was at the Helm of Jason's character for 10 years and then forced to leave. And I don't really know if DC has any really solid plans for his character and development. There's a lot of hype surrounding the end of Cheer and them saying it'll 'change Red Hood & Batman's relationship forever' as well as with Jason being featured in the new Suicide Squad coming this August, and Jason getting a feature in an issue of Robin. It'll be interesting to see where they take the character. Personally I do want a resumption of Jason. But like Harley Quinn where they're taking their sweet time redeeming her. Jason has done A LOT of awful things and of they wanna make him a hero, I want a few years to pass in terms of monthly issues before we see Jason become a hero again.

*edit: spelling*

[icequeenbae]

Dior Vernis | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Domestic au, husband!Baekhyun, pregnant!Reader, established relationship (obviously), slight angst, fluff, bits of humor (it’s Baek, y’all)

Rated: G

Warnings: husband!Baek’s so sweet you may need to visit your dentist after this

Word Count: ~1.5k finally

Summary: Baekhyun came home to find his pregnant wife crying. He’s ready to do what it takes to make her happy again. And it’s probably not what you think.

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Author’s Note: This is just a cute little something while I work on bigger stories – those are taking forever to get edited… :( Feel free to DM me in case you want to help out with some of it (check out my beta reader post). I was trying something new in terms of structuring this, I hope it’s not too confusing. Anyways, please enjoy and let me know if you’d like more of these!! Thanks baekshoney for taking a quick look!

Baekhyun was incredibly focused.

The task at hand was not something he was used to undertaking, neither had he expected to be in this position tonight, crouched uncomfortably on the living room floor in front of you. He was pretty tired after work, and the stoop was making both his knee and his neck hurt. Not that he was going to say anything about the inconvenience anyway.

It was strangely quiet, seeing that this was your home, always boisterous. Loud with your laughter, your endless chattering, your purposefully bad singing, or even your arguments. But right now, the only sounds reverberating around the room were your residual sniffling and his concentrated breathing. You tried to take a closer look at his hands, quite unsuccessfully since your massive seven-months pregnant belly was in the way.

‘Don’t move,’ he asked, when you shifted slightly.

You nodded, effectively doing that again, so he shot you a dirty look and held you in place by the ankle, to which you muttered something apologetic.

‘Are you trying to make me mess up?’

‘Sorry,’ you mumbled, chewing on your lip to control your impatience.

You better let your husband do this – he definitely took his mission seriously. Of course, there was no way he’d mess up and make you cry the way you were when he came through the door. Simply no way.

Even if he had to crouch and do this for the next hour.

~

It couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes since he arrived home. At the time, Baekhyun expected you to be happy that he came early to spend some more time together, but instead found you sitting at the edge of the couch, bawling your eyes out.

At the sight of this he felt his heart skip a beat in fear. He very rarely got like this, usually the one to take a step back and look at any issue calmly and with a bit of humor. But now was a special time – you were getting ready to become parents for the very first time – which made him overly cautious and uncharacteristically fussy around you. Hence, while he stood frozen in the doorway, a million scary thoughts went through his panicked mind. His eyes searched your body frantically: there were no visible injuries, no blood, the bump was intact…

‘What’s going on? Y/N?’ He was trying so hard to cover up his terror that he instantly gave himself away by using your name like this. Too serious. ‘Are you hurt?’

He reached you in a second, kneeling in front of you and touching your wrists as you covered your face while crying.

‘Baby, tell me what’s wrong,’ he almost pleaded.

He wanted to help but had no idea what was happening. You looked fine from what he could tell and the TV was off, so it definitely wasn’t due to any tragic plot twist in your favorite series. Your shoulders shook with more sobs and he shifted his palms to rub them in calming motions. There was an unusual lump in his throat. He could barely stand seeing you, his partner and future mother of his child, like this. Sure, these past few months of your regular hormonal crying taught him some resolve, but that dreadful time was over weeks ago. He’d never even seen you this discomposed before, so the reasoning behind your state was to be determined as soon as possible.

‘Hey,’ he tried again, putting his gentle palm on your belly absentmindedly. ‘I need to know if you’re hurt, babe, so that I can help. Do you need me to call someone?’

You shook your head no, and he nodded to himself.

‘Okay. Why don’t you breathe with me for a second?’

With you getting upset during a good portion of your early pregnancy, Baekhyun had to train himself at the art of figuring out the reason and calming you down to talk about it. Breathing exercises seemed quite helpful whenever he could get through to you, and this was one of those cases. You must’ve been crying for a bit, since before he arrived even. That thought made his heart clench.

‘Breathe in with me, like this,’ he took a deep breath through his nose, ‘And exhale from your mouth.’

He guided you by example, and you subconsciously followed the suggested pattern.

A couple minutes later, your sobs were reduced to sniffling, and you lowered your palms enough for Baekhyun to see your red, watery eyes.

‘Aw sweetheart,’ he bemoaned, carefully investigating your blotched face.

He took his time wiping the tears off your cheeks while you sat there with your sweater paw pressed to your runny nose.

His touch was always so comforting in times like this. There was nothing like it. And everything about your husband gave you a sense of tranquility and security when he was near. Even Baekhyun’s breathing was doing its part in relaxing you.

He allowed you to bask in his affection, stroking your arm lingeringly and tracing the remaining wet trails on your cheeks with his fingertips. As your breathing slowly came back to normal, he could finally pay attention to the surroundings. There was a small colorful item on the floor that he’d noticed only now. Curious, he picked it up and read the label.

‘Dior Ver- vernis? Is this nail polish?’ He asked in confusion and received a feeble nod from you.

Baekhyun could barely place this item in ‘the big picture’, so he tried asking you again.

‘So… Can you tell me what happened?’

You looked away, avoiding his eyes. He examined your face and was mystified by the embarrassed look that appeared on it out of the blue.

‘Y/N?’

‘It’s- I think it’s hormones again,’ you croaked and looked away.

While this was an excellent excuse, he’d known you well enough to understand that it was one.

‘Tell me everything, honey. What got you upset?’

His palm went back to caressing your baby bump, and you instantly felt loved and cherished from the simple action. Your fidgety fingers lowered to play with his.

‘It’s- nothing serious,’ you confessed. ‘I just- my feet got hideously swollen today… And I had a pedicure appointment. Had to cancel.’

Baekhyun nodded, still unsure of what exactly caused this outburst. Your feet tended to get swollen often these days, this wasn’t news to either one of you, and it was fine, your doctor had said. It couldn’t have been some randomly cancelled appointment that got you in tears, right? Or could it?

‘I- tried doing it myself,’ you continued reluctantly, noticing his puzzlement. ‘But it’s impossible. I can’t even see anything because- because I’m so huge,’ you stifled a sob. ‘And swollen, and clumsy, and-’

‘And beautiful,’ Baekhyun interrupted your rant that was headed the wrong way already.

He could see it now. This was definitely hormone infused but there was also something else underneath. Your husband hummed, a playful expression creeping up his face.

‘Why would this upset you though? You’re only ‘huge’ because you’re carrying our healthy boy,’ Baekhyun’s tone was thick with fondness as he said that. ‘He’s going to be a big one. At this rate I’m willing to bet that he’s going to be taller than Chanyeol. All thanks to his miracle mother.’

You snorted a laugh at his non-scientific statement, finding his warm palm on your stomach. He just loved touching it at all times.

‘What if it’s a girl?’ You whispered, and your husband gasped, now pressing both hands to your belly protectively.

‘Why would you say that! She’d be a model then, and I don’t want my little girl to be one. She’s mine to look at and cherish,’ he pretend grumbled before adding a softer, ‘Just like you.’

Nudging his shoulder timidly, you giggled and bit your lip to contain your bashful smile.

‘Hm, you know what?’ He clicked his tongue, looking like he’d had a revelation. ‘I’m sure pedicure isn’t rocket science; I can do it.’

You barely reacted as he swiftly took the fluffy slipper off your right foot and rested it over his knee.

‘No!’ You tried to retract the limb but he held you by the ankle. In any case, you were way too lumpish to do it gracefully.

‘Oh, come on! You think this can scare me? Those are just feet, Y/N,’ he scolded and looked down, almost jumping. ‘Holy mother of-!’

You squirmed and hid your eyes in your sleeve as he proceeded to laugh at your reaction.

‘I’m kidding, I’m kidding!’ He said in an amicable tone before continuing, ‘I’m sure I can find your toenails in there, somewhere.’

You whined at this and shoved your mischievous husband in the side with the ball of your foot.

‘Alright, alright, calm down. I’m going to put this exquisite shade of pink onto them as neatly as I can. But you have to promise me that you won’t cry if I mess up!’

‘Don’t you dare mess up. Or else you’ll have to make it up to me with three hundred foot rubs,’ you groused, sniffing again to keep your nose from running.

‘Got it. Phew, glad you won’t be able to see it up close anyways,’ he smirked, expertly shaking the nail polish in preparation.

‘Baekhyun!’ You reproached for his shamelessness.

Your husband let out a cheeky laugh and announced:

‘My foot’s falling asleep, so let’s do this!’

He was fully concentrated on your pedicure after that.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I was blown away by the feedback I received for the Duality of Baekhyunie, so I wanted to keep you entertained while I’m working on the sequel and other stuff. I hope you weren’t disappointed ❤

P.S. Tell me in the comments how fast you realized that it’s all about nail polish 😂

[noctualilith]

Our Past Got Us Here

We all love the Harvard FinnLo pining, but after the amazing and painful art Haz posted today we needed an extra dose of fluff to balance the feels. Co-written with the amazing and eloquent @ais-for-alex , the characters and universe by queen of the hazelhoots @lumosinlove 

The box with the ominous title Harvard in blood red sharpie should have been heavier for all the memories it carried, Logan thought as he hefted it on his desk in his new room. He was all moved in with Finn and Leo, unpacked and fitting seamlessly in their space just as he did in their lives… but for this one last box.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that whatever he unearthed was firmly in the past now, and his present was so much lighter and happier than anything he would find in there. 

He heard Finn and Leo moving around in the apartment and he knew they were there for him if he needed them. He knew Finn saw the box and suspected what was inside, if the way he was lurking close to his door was any indication. He also knew that this was his task first and foremost - to unpack the past and claim it fully as his own, with all the good and the bad it brought. This was where he met Finn. This was where he fell for Finn. This was where he carried the burning flame of all he felt for him, held it close and hid it away from everyone including himself, until it burned him from the inside. He could still feel the hot rush of shame and hurt he was so well used to pushing back under and avoiding at all costs. 

Opening the box would mean coming face to face with it for the first time after years, no more deflecting. 

He was ready. He was home, their home, the three of them together and he was ready. 

He pulled the lid off the box and was met with Finn’s warm gaze staring at him from a treasured photograph lying on top, the two of them only a few weeks after Logan got to Harvard, throwing him back into a memory that cut with precision right into those places that hurt the most. Years ago, he had packed that box in a state of numb resignation, putting away his heart piece by piece, alone in his room back at Harvard because Finn had left him for a dream and it hurt too much to see the reminders all around him. He had been crying too hard by the time he placed that last photo in the box, Finn’s smiling face blurred by the tears and hidden away when he closed the box and tucked it away. Now the feeling roared to life in his chest, loud and hungry for a resolution. 

He wasn’t ready.

He must have made a noise, or maybe Finn had a sixth sense for when Logan needed him because the next thing he knew were his arms wrapping him in a hug, the safest place on Earth as far as Logan was concerned. 

“Lo, baby, we’re okay.” Finn murmured into his hair as Logan hid his face in his neck, breathing him in. They were okay, they were great, but there were still some things unsaid between them, an unspoken agreement to leave that box unopened for another day. 

Well, it was open now and waiting for them on the desk innocently.

Logan took a breath and lifted his head, searching for a kiss and the reassurance that came with it. He wasn’t alone, with Finn thousands of miles away, both of them silent and hurting. He was here, with his boys, allowed to touch whenever he wanted. They were good at reminding him of that, too. He needed that reminder now. 

“Tell me.” He knew Finn would understand what he was asking for. Logan wasn’t good at talking, but Finn could read him like an open book after all those years. Logan only realized how much after he stopped pushing him away and allowed himself to love and be loved exactly how he’d yearned for. 

“We’re okay. I love you. I’m never leaving you. Leo is never leaving us. You moved in with us and everything is finally as it should be, because being away from you feels like I’m missing a part of myself and fuck, I’m done with that. Do you know how important you’re to me? I’ll spend the rest of our lives telling you, Lo.” Finn was cradling his face in his hands and pressing a kiss to his lips after every declaration.

Logan’s hands were grasping at the fabric of Finn’s hoodie - Leo’s hoodie, actually - and that brought an unbidden smile to his face, helping the words hit home. Finn, in Leo’s hoodie, in his room. He didn’t have to do this alone, do anything alone, ever again. 

“I know, mon amour. It’s just-- we haven’t really talked about-- I know I wasn’t in a hurry to unpack all that and you probably weren’t either but I want to, now. I think I need to.” He gestured to the innocent-looking box, watching Finn step closer to it and look inside, emotions playing across his face. He knew what it represented, of course he did. He probably had one just like that at some point, or maybe his was still unpacked too.

Finn reached into the box and picked up the photo from the top, the same one that Logan could barely look at just moments ago. He held it out to Logan with a wistful smile. “Let’s unpack this one together, what do you say?”

“Yeah, I’d really like to do that.” Logan’s voice was shaky, but he was determined. They’d probably end up crying, he could already feel the hot press of tears behind his eyes just thinking about all the memories that they were going to bring to light, but he wanted them all. He wanted to touch them, to put them up on his walls and see them every day without hurting for their past selves. A story of how they got to here and now, of how they lost each other and then found each other again. How they found their missing piece and built a home together. 

He took the photo from Finn, their fingers brushing and unfailingly sending sparks across Logan’s skin. It’s been like that since he could remember, Finn’s touch like a brand, whether accidental and forcedly platonic for the longest time, or purposeful now but no less exciting with the promise of forever. It made him feel brave, so he cast around for the tape and tore a piece to stick it to the back of the photo. First one for the wall. First memory to unpack. 

“You remember this one?” he asked Finn while he picked a place for it, pressing it to the wall and making sure it held. “I loved you already, when we took this photo. I was trying to convince myself that I couldn’t, but I did.” He heard Finn behind him suck in a breath, but he stayed quiet, letting him speak. Logan turned a bit, just enough to reach his hand back, wordlessly asking for the next photo, sticking it to the wall without looking at it first. 

It was a photo of the two of them at a party. At the party. 

“Lo--” Finn started behind him, already gearing up to tell him they could do this another day, Logan could hear it in his voice. It’s happened often enough. Logan was sick of it, of swallowing the pain and the tears and hiding in the safe topics of their everyday life, like what to get for dinner and who should drive. 

“I’m sorry.” He interrupted Finn, softly but with determination, still looking at the photo. He felt Finn pressing himself along his back, one arm coming up to drape over his shoulder, his hand pressing over his heart. There was another photo of them, just like this, a favourite of Logan’s and currently in Finn’s room, another piece of his heart captured forever. He leaned back into the embrace, drawing strength from the unwavering support. Now, then, always, Finn was by his side no matter how often Logan pushed him away. He was done pushing him away.

“I shouldn’t have done that, at the party. It was a shitty thing to do. I’m sorry. You deserved so much better.” Logan felt the first tear roll down his face, felt Finn’s breath stutter in his chest. 

“I’m sorry too. You weren’t the only one not talking about it, you know? It’s on me, too. And we’re better now, aren’t we?” 

Logan nodded wordlessly, breathing through the swell of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him when he thought about that night. A miracle turned into a secret and sitting heavy and unaddressed instead of being treasured as it should have been. 

Finn spoke for the both of them, needing to acknowledge in words what happened. “That was our first kiss, Lo. I still remember it, like it happened just yesterday. I loved you already, when we took this photo. I couldn’t believe what happened after. I’m glad it did.”

Logan turned to him at that, surprised. “You’re glad? I blamed it on being drunk and then never talked about it. It might as well not have happened at all! Our first kiss was a lie and I can never change it. How--” Finn pressed a kiss to his lips and stayed there, interrupting his rant and waiting for him to kiss back before pulling away again, keeping their foreheads together. 

“I’m glad because we’re here now. We’re talking about it now. It was real to me, Lo. I was afraid then, too. I’m not anymore, you’re not anymore. We found each other. We found Leo. That’s what matters.” Finn���s eyes were swimming in tears but he was smiling, and Logan couldn’t help but kiss that smile right off his lips. “You’re right. That’s what matters. Gimme the next one. Let’s talk about all of them.”

The wall was slowly filled with memories and their weight was lifted from their unspoken past word for word as they remembered each moment for the good and the bad. So often Logan had felt close to crumbling under the guilt, but Finn was right there holding him close and offering him absolution with each new piece out of the box, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Beside photos, there were other things too. Movie tickets, four of them from the same movie they kept going back for. A receipt from a dinner at a roadie, just the two of them, where Finn doodled stick figures playing hockey while they waited for dessert. Crumpled notes that Finn would sometimes leave stuck to Logan’s door, sometimes a shopping list, sometimes an inside joke. Logan kept them all. 

FInally, the box was empty and the wall was full. Logan felt exhausted but his heart was lighter than it had been in years, brimming with love for his boys and gratitude for the road that brought him here. He and Finn stood shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the room, looking at the wall, tears drying on both their faces. 

“I want Leo” Logan spoke into the comfortable silence, pulling on Finn’s arm, suddenly eager to have them both close, to bask in the reality of having them, of being loved by them. “Come on Harz, let’s find him.” 

Finn reeled him back in for one more kiss. “Love you, Lo.” 

“Love you, too. Love Leo. Want Leo now.” 

“Yeah, me too. Come on, he’s in the kitchen.” Logan was already squirming away and Finn let him pull them from the room and towards the kitchen where they could hear the clatter of utensils. He did the hard work and now he wanted his rewards. He wanted his boys close. 

Hand in hand, they padded down the hall towards the kitchen, towards their missing piece, towards their future, leaving all the guilt and the hurt finally where it belonged; in their past. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Leo brushed a bit of flour from his hands. He suppressed the urge to wander into Logan’s room where he knew his partners were unpacking more than just the old boxes beaten by years of hiding in the closet. Those old boxes that carried memories of Finn and Logan’s days spent so close to each other but separated by an ocean of feelings that fit between their dorm beds. 

No, Leo had to let them unpack together. Finn and Logan needed to be the ones to pull each memory from the moth eaten cardboard. They needed to be the ones to hold them close to their hearts and feel, and once the hurt of all those years  past had been aired away they could finally hang those memories on the walls to look at without that bitter hurt anymore.

Leo would wait though, he would wait for them to emerge from the solemn confessional of Logan’s room, he would wait for them to be ready, he would wait until they wanted him there to pull them back together. He would wait for them forever. Luckily though he didn’t have to wait forever. Leo turned as he heard their footsteps padding closer to the kitchen. 

“Hello, my loves,” he said as Finn and Logan peeked their heads in to see what he was doing.

“Mmm,” Finn hummed in greeting and came up to press a soft sweet kiss to Leo’s lips. Out of the corner of his eye Leo saw Logan hop up to sit on the counter. When Finn finally pulled away his lips were pulled into a gentle smile and his eyes as warm and sweet as melted chocolate. Leo sighed at the sight, but turned to Logan who was softly kicking the cabinet doors where his feet dangled from the counter. 

“Hi baby,” he whispered, slotting himself between Logan’s knees and running his hands soft against his thighs. Logan sighed and wrapped his legs around Leo’s waist pulling him in closer. 

“You all unpacked?” Leo asked so softly for a moment he wasn’t sure Logan had actually heard him. But he saw that look in Logan’s bright green eyes that meant he was thinking, choosing his words carefully before he tried to speak. So Leo waited, he reached up to lightly trace his fingers against the scratchy stubble on Logan’s jaw as his partner gathered his thoughts. Leo felt Finn settle in behind him, pressing his chest flush to his back and rest his chin on his shoulder. He turned his face inwards pressing closer just to place a kiss to the soft skin on Leo’s neck.

“Yeah,” Logan finally answered with a sigh, he turned his face to nuzzle into Leo’s palm. “It was- it was hard,” he whispered, then looked over at Finn still resting his head on Leo’s shoulder and smiled softly. “But as hard as it was to live through, and remember, I don’t think I would change even a minute of it.” 

Leo gave him a bit of a puzzled look at that, why on earth wouldn’t he change it if he could? Why would he be willing to live through that pain? Logan chuckled lightly at his confusion and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Leo’s mouth.

“Mon amour, I would live every minute of it again and not change a thing, because mine and Finn's past is what led us to you. And you know what? Thinking of it like that, it doesn’t hurt at all.” 

Leo couldn’t help the sheen of tears that glazed his eyes, or the sniffles as he reached forward to pull Logan fully into his arms, holding him tight like he couldn’t bear to leave even an inch of space between them. 

“We love you so much Nutty,” Finn whispered, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck, “you make it easier. God, you make everything better.” 

“Guys,” Leo sighed at the feel of them pressed so close against him, “this wasn't supposed to be about me.” 

Logan reached out to cup his face, his eyes bright and sure as they gazed into Leo’s own, “sweetheart, it’s about us, all three of us, together. Our past, and yours, they were stepping stone to get to this exact moment.” 

“Leo,” Finn said softly, he pulled away slightly and turned Leo to look at him so his back was now pressed against Logan's chest where he was still sitting on the counter. Logan twined his arms around Leo’s torso as Finn tilted his chin just so until he couldn't look anywhere but those chocolate eyes. “It’s time we all moved on from the past, ok? Instead, lets focus on building a future, one for all of us, that we’ll get to spend the rest of our lives cultivating.” 

Leo swallowed hard, Finn's words seemed to crawl into his heart mending cracks and fissures he hadn’t realized were there. His words put to rest that horrible feeling that crept into Leo’s mind in the dead of night, in those moments he was all alone with no one to soothe away the fear, that he was the odd man out. That one day Finn and Logan would realize that they didn't need him, because they already had a foundation to build on. 

“I love you guys so fucking much,” he breathed, and felt Logans arms tighten around him. Finn smiled and leaned in, pressing closer gently until they were so close they were breathing the same air. 

“D’accord, d’accord,” Logan mumbled into his shoulder, he breathed in deeply then continued, “no more sad for tonight.” 

“I think I can get on board with that,” Leo said with a chuckle.

“Same,” Finn agreed before finally pulling away. 

Leo grinned and padded back to the other side of the kitchen where he had left ingredients for dinner strewn across the counter, “Well, do you guys want to help me make dinner then?” 

“Le, my precious Peanut Butter, I need you to understand this;” Finn said seriously, “just because we have grown emotionally does not mean our skills in the kitchen have improved in the slightest.”

“Well yeah, and they never will if you don’t let me teach you,” Leo teased, snagging a dish towel and snapping Finn in the thigh. 

Logan laughed at Finn's pout as he rubbed the welt now forming and jumped down from the counter, “Alright Nutty, teach us your ways, impart your vast cooking wisdom upon us.” 

Leo rolled his eyes at their dramatics but set them to work nonetheless. Finn was tasked with peeling potatoes, with a stern warning from Leo about slicing off his finger. As he was prepping the meat, Leo glanced over at Logan who seemed to be having far too much fun smashing the crackers to make a breading. He couldn't help but grin as he felt warm affection rush through his veins, like he had injected pure love directly into his bloodstream. Leo couldn't wait to feel this for the rest of his life, to build and grow with them, and love them for as long as humanly possible. 

It wasn't long before their kitchen was filled with laughter, and banter, and music played over the bluetooth speakers. The three of them worked in tandem, until the delicious aroma of home cooked food was wafting through their apartment. And so what if Finns mashed potatoes were a bit soupy, and what if the veggies Logan chopped were a bit uneven, it was something that they created together, Leo wanted to savor every bite. 

[stray-kids-react]

Making jewelry with them

Masterlist

@mariafeh

...

Bang Chan

° Walked through your apartment doors, arms filled but buckets of string and many different assortments of beads.

"The craft store had a sale on."

° Makes you a bracelet with a cute wolf charm in the middle, just so you have one more thing to remind you of him.

° Ends up staring at you rather then finishing his bracelets, loving your focused pout and giddy behavior when you finish one.

° You kept working on this bracelet secretly, not wanting him to ruin the sickly sweet surprise you had prepared for him.

"Baby I want to seeeee~"

° When you finally finished the bracelet, you still kept it behind your back. Asking him to close and cover his eyes, walking behind him just in case he decided to peek.

° You placed the black and white bracelet on his opened palm, the letters arranged to say 'Forever'.

° He loved the colors and how much thought you out into it, but wondered why you put forever on it out of all things.

° That is until you raised your wrist to reveal the letters spelling 'Together'.

"Aw, baby~ you're too cute. C'mere I want to kiss your face."

Lee Know

° You were both bored, wanting to do something cute and simple without having to go out into the cold weather.

"Let's make bracelets."

° You knew he secretly just wanted to make bracelets with the cat's names on it. But you didn't mind, you loved the cats too.

° You began to head Minho giggle to himself as he assembled another bracelet. He hid it behind his arms, still chuckling.

° Once he finally finished, he cupped it in his hands and asked for your attention. A smug smirk stretched across his soft lips.

"I hope you *chuckle* like it."

° The cool beads fitted into your palm perfectly, you looked down to see the start of a word. My Second Love, you soon realized the meaning of the bracelet.

° You pouted cutely as the cats came first once again, but you could stay mad at him for being an adorable cat father.

° Minho kissed your pout away, leaning closer and closer until you pushed onto the floor of your apartment.

° His smug smirk returned once again, this time much more apparent and sly.

"Don't pout and expect no kisses, your still my sweet lil kitten."

Changbin

° Changbin knew that the fast few weeks have been hard on you, due to the lack of time spent with him.

"Sweetheart, want to hang out?"

° The way your eyes lit up with extreme amounts of joy, melted and broke his heart at the same time.

° He loved hanging out with you, swooning over your small habits and quirks. But he felt bad for not doing it more often.

° You stuck your tongue out for the tenth time as you tried to tie the bracelet together, failing once more to your disappointment.

"Here let me help you."

° You both never realized how close you were until he looked up at you, his hot breath fanning across your skin. Before you could even say a word, his lips were on yours.

° This kiss wasn't usual from Changbin, it was very cautious as if you were going to break. He only did this when apologizing.

° You knew something was eating him up inside, just by the glossy layer on his eyes. He looked on the edge of tears.

° Changbin didn't have to explain, you just held him close, knowing he needed it.

"I'm so sorry, I really don't deserve you sometimes. I love you y/n."

Hyunjin

° You were having a tough day, being miles away from your family. And not being able to visit them due to the risk of the virus.

"Why don't we send them something?"

° Hyunjin was your positivity throughout these tough times, encouraging you to keep moving forward with him.

° He placed the buckets of beads from art projects that never happened, and handed you the different colors of string.

° Hyunjin played your favorite movie on for background noise, sometimes getting lost in the scenes and dropping his bracelets.

"You look so cute when you're focused."

° His messy ponytail lost small strands of hair that kept blocking his vision. He constantly shook his hair away, making you giggle at the annoyed scoffs he made.

° As he finally finished his bracelet, he gently tugged at the sleeve of your sweater. Asking to place it across your wrist.

° You smiled gently as the mint green and brown beads spelled out 'My Home'. His lips landing gently across your head.

"Well get through this together, I'm just glad we have each other during this."

Han

° After winning an award for Back Door, you wanted to give them something as a congratulations gift.

"Pumpkin, what are you up to? ~"

° You showed off the five bracelets you've already finished, each holding a different symbol and different color patterns.

° Jisung's face beamed only pure joy, seeing your criss crossed on the floor as you focused on congratulating them.

° He knew that none of them asked you to make these and your company was far enough, but that made it even sweeter.

"I swear you are the cutest person on earth."

° He didn't tell any of the members, knowing they'd melt just as much as he did. Especially Felix and Jeongin, since they were already quite close to you.

° For the rest of the night, Jisung ordered your favorite take out and helped you finish your adorable project.

° The next day, sent his heart into a frenzy as you shyly passed them to each member. Hoping they like the gifts.

"This is why I love you, you're just so damn cute and it ruins me."

Felix

° You and Felix were known to always do cute activities like this, even fitting in time during his busy schedules.

"Let's make some cute bracelets."

° His hair was messy from the recent dance practice, clearly tired from his hard work. Yet he still insisted to spend time with you.

° You worried that he felt the pressure of having to spend time with you, even though you reassure him that you don't mind.

° After the long silence as he concentrated on a pastel based bracelet for you, you confronted him on your concerns.

"Spending time with you calms me down."

° The beaming grin with his sweet tone, melted away all of your concerns. Giggling like one of his many admirers as he fluffed your hair playfully.

° After around bracelet 4 he began to get increasingly tired, crawling his way to your lap. Burrowing his way into your grip.

° You both just lied there quietly, playing with his hair as he places small kisses to your shoulder blade.

"Thank you for calming me down love, I truly owe you for always being so amazing."

Seungmin

° You were currently in quarantine after your landing to south Korea, only having the virtual company of your boyfriend.

"Only two more days til I can see you again."

° You laid on the carpet of your hotel room, creating a bracelet for him when you see him face to face finally.

° Seungmin ranted to you about how much he misses his fans, thanking you for making his days brighter and more pleasant.

° His messy bed head and cute glasses always sent you heart into a frenzy, wishing you were there to play with his fluffy locks.

"Is that bracelet for me darling?"

° You quickly hid the cute gift behind your back, chuckling softly as you tried to tease him on his "secret" gift from you. Seungmin laughing with you, as you failed to hide it.

° As the laughing quieted down, both of you smiled sadly. Never knowing how long two days could truly feel when waiting.

° He could see the sad look in your eyes, and wished he could just kiss all of it all better. But the only thing he could do was talk.

"Don't worry darling, the days will go by in no time. And we'll cuddle non stop."

Jeongin

° You were spending quality time with your boyfriend and your best friends, all of which happened to be in Stray Kids.

"Y/n made us some cute bracelets!"

° The excited shimmer in his eyes made all of you feel just a bit happier, his energy always contagious to anyone.

° Throughout the bucket of handmade bracelets, he searched to find the one you specifically made for him.

° An adorable confused pout when he couldn't find it, knowing you were hiding it due to the shy smirk on your lips.

"I know you too well baby, hand it over. ~"

° You reveled a beautiful bracelet, with a shining ring in the middle of it. Which happened to be detachable. The admiration that filled his eyes, made you shiver.

° He knew it was a promise ring, and loved how you took so much effort to make something for him. It swelled his heart.

° Before you could explain the meaning of anything at all, Jeongin molded his lips against yours. The members going wild.

"You're so thoughtful and caring, I'll cherish this forever my adorable y/n."

[lovelylogans]

the warmest hello (to the coldest goodbye)

once a spy, always a spy forever, forever the warmest hello to the coldest goodbye remember, remember -spies are forever, the tin can bros

warnings: undercover spy work, mention of weapons, drugging someone into unconsciousness/giving someone a roofie, essentially the start of an enemies to lovers fanfiction

pairings: virgil/logan, offscreen roman/patton

words: 4,465

notes: this is for day 7 of @analogicalweek! the prompt of the day is “free day” and i have decided to write a combination soulmates and rival spies au! please enjoy!

⁂

Not that Virgil would admit it, but, like literally every other marked person, he's tried to imagine how he might meet his soulmate. He just didn't ever spare any thought on what he'd do if it happened on the job.

His official cover to his friends (which was mostly his cousin Roman and Roman’s husband Patton) was that he was an analyst—he was always vague about what exactly it was he analyzed, but since neither of them were particularly mathematically inclined, and both were maybe a bit too trusting for their own good, they took him at his word.

Even when he was sent off on various unusual "business trips.”

It’s not like Virgil’s mark is very specific about when and where it’ll happen. Virgil knows that variations of "sorry about that” make for a large percentage of common soulmarks. 

There’s protocols in place, of course, but Virgil had never really paid attention to those classes while training to be a spy. The Lewis clause is the kind of thing Virgil didn’t pay as much attention to, because it didn’t seem as useful as understanding the technology or how to make a cover. The Lewis clause is what to do when someone meets a soulmate on the job—there are specifications for if the soulmate is a target, a team member, or an enemy.

Virgil hadn’t really cared at the time. He’d kick himself for that later.

Any number of meetings occurred accidentally—knocking something over, bumping into someone, or, like his cousin Roman's soulmate did, take Roman's coffee thinking it was his own hot chocolate. They got married two winters ago, just so they could serve hot beverages in cold weather.

He thinks the iteration stamped in black along his left inner arm, "I'm very sorry about this," with the addition of "oh no, it's you” tacked on at the end of his makes it likely that whatever he says will, A, likely be first, B, be somewhat unique, or unique enough to be immediately recognizable, and C, be in the aftermath of some kind of accident.

He ends up being partially right. What he says is first and it is somewhat unique. What his soulmate apologizes for is no accident, though.

Virgil does undercover work, sure, but it's very rare for him to enter the James Bond style locale he's at today, and that he’s been working for the past couple months; the marble ballroom he's circling is dripping with gold chandeliers and matching heavy, velvet curtains that accent the floor-to-ceiling windows. There’s a string quartet in the corner, barely audible over the chatter of rich socialites. Virgil, deeply uncomfortable in his white-tie attire, is circling the room in an attempt at looking like he attends charity balls all the time.

He sucks at it.

As if on cue, his earpiece crackles to life.

"How the fuck did you ever qualify to be a spy?" Janus, his tech man and eye in the sky, snickers into his ear. "Your acting skills are horrendous. If you auditioned for The Room right now, they wouldn't let you into the cast.”

"Fuck off,” Virgil fake-coughs into his shoulder.

"Christ, at least try to look like you're mingling, not like you've stalked the target here."

Unable to stop himself, he glances toward the target he's meant to be watching.

The target, who is so staggeringly wealthy it could make Virgil, who is trying to pay off his student debt on a spy's salary (not as high as one might think) burst into tears. Or, much more likely, start ranting about the myriad flaws of capitalism. If so inclined, he could honestly probably steal the amount of money necessary from one of her offshore accounts, and it would be as unnoticeable as someone taking a penny from him.

Mary Lee Truman is standing amidst a flock of suited men, like a dove amidst a flock of dour crows; her dress is slinky silk, a shade of champagne that glimmers rose-gold in the right shade of light. She’s standing leaned to one side, her hip popped out and an arm crossed over her stomach, a crystal-cut champagne flute dangling in her fingers as if she was born to hold one.

Her husband, Lee Truman (fuck if that wasn’t confusing, it was really easier to think of them by their codenames) is off by the bar, seemingly getting himself another drink. 

His eyes stray to Mary Lee again; he can tell a couple of the suits are hired muscle, bodyguards, which makes sense, as the Trumans are allegedly a massive crime family, doing their dirty dealings in plain sight. A couple of the suits he recognizes from dossiers; one is a business partner of Lee’s father, who might not even know what the Truman family really gets up to; one absolutely knows what the Truman family gets up to, as Virgil’s read his rap sheet and knows he’s been in and out of jail due to his assignments from the mob.

There’s one suit there that really doesn’t seem to fit the mold of either category.

For one thing, he’s around Virgil’s age; for another, he isn’t rippling with muscle. Not that he doesn’t look fit; his well-tailored suit shows off his broad shoulders, his biceps, his lean waist. He’s dark-haired, and pale, and blue-eyed, and he’s standing next to Mary Lee with a look that Virgil would think of as dour, but now that he’s looking closely, the blue-eyed man looks almost... calculating.

This man wasn’t in the dossier.

Almost everyone at this ball was in the dossier.

Virgil looks away from Mary Lee and the handsome man, and instead decides to start taking up Janus’ advice; he slowly moves through the room.

Well. He's doing it to get closer to Mary Lee, but sure, he can attempt to mingle.

He traverses through the room, his fancy shoes clicking on the marble floor, mindful to not step on any dress hems—he has it easy, as his directive was simply to wear his white tie with his hidden weapons, his ear piece, and his lapel pin that records everything he's seeing. The women in the room provide the only splashes of color outside of the black suits and white shirts of the men, the gleaming marble, the gold- accented glasses and dishware. Even what little art he's seen follows that color theme -- white marble busts, abstract black and white paintings in their gilded frames, a gold statue outside the front steps, as if to greet the partygoers.

But the women of the party aren't beholden to this strict color scheme. Gowns of pink chiffon, red lace, blue taffeta, deep violet velvet, Virgil passes them all, keeping one eye out for rose gold silk.

He ends up instituting himself in a ring of people listening intently to an art history professor talking about the architectural significance of his building—he introduces himself with his cover name, James Walker, to the man next to him, who Virgil already knows is a Truman cousin. He gives a fake first name too—he says his name is Alex, when Virgil knows it’s really Bruce. Okay. Something to take note of.

He listens to the art history professor talk about art deco with just one ear, the other straining to eavesdrop on Mary Lee and her suits.

“Do you think our beneficiary approaches?” Mary Lee murmurs to the blue-eyed one, the one that wasn’t in the dossier.

“Oh, I know he does,” the blue-eyed man says to her. He has a pleasant British accent, the kind of voice that would be right at home on a nature documentary calmly narrating the eating habits of wolverines, or something like that. “According to all my research, our previous beneficiary is no longer within our purview. A new one will have been instilled in hasty time. As a matter of fact, I believe I would be able to point him out to you right now.”

Mary Lee sighs, a little, and the man continues talking about their charity. Virgil’s mind races. He knows the Truman’s “charity work” almost always acts as a sieve to run dirty money through, so what would it mean, that they got a new beneficiary? A new target, maybe? A new directive?

Either way, this is almost definitely some kind of code they’re talking in. He tunes a bit more into the art history professor’s impromptu lecture—he’s taking a brief tangent into talking about Tamara de Lempicka—as he ruminates on that particular conversation between the blue-eyed Brit and Mary Lee.

Then he ends up in conversation with an elderly woman beside him, who wants to know who he is—James Walker, I run a business a state or two over, I’m interested in diversifying my assets—and if he’s been to any art museums in town. Both he and the man he is meant to be have not, but it turns out she’s a curator and has numerous suggestions for him.

He also knows this woman, Ida Kelly, has been paying into the Truman business for quite some time, and has potentially ordered hits using the Truman’s muscle.

“Madam,” a suited waiter shows up at her side, as if on cue, and hands her a small glass full of what looks like a gin-and-tonic.

“Oh, yes, thank you,” she says, taking her drink immediately.

The waiter turns to him. There is a singular champagne flute on the tray. “Sir.”

“I didn’t order anything,” Virgil says stupidly, before he realizes that almost everyone here is taking champagne flutes off of trays, and he supposes this waiter just wants to clear his before he has to double back and get more. “Oh, all right.”

He takes it. It’s a delicate, crystal-cut glass. He’s almost a little afraid that if he holds it wrong, it’ll break.

“Really, we’re doing an Impressionism exhibit, and it is positively divine,” she says.

Very suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder, emanating warmth through his suit and Virgil jumps, a little—he hopes whoever it is didn’t feel one his knives. Or, God forbid, his gun.

He turns to see no one, when a hand touches his opposite arm, and he turns again. It turns out to be the blue-eyed Brit, who is staring only at Ida, brushing past him, allowing his hand to trail down Virgil’s arm, touching his hand as if to say, please stay there, I do not want to bump into you.

At such a close range, Virgil can smell his absolutely incredible cologne, see his defined jawline, the way his blue eyes gleam.

Ida brightens. “Darling!”

“Ida,” the Brit says warmly. “I visited that display myself, it was simply wonderful.”

“Oh, you’re too kind,” she says, clearly drinking up the praise. Virgil looks between them, feeling even more awkward than he has all night.

“Wait a goddamned minute,” Janus murmurs in his ear, after such a long stretch of silence that it makes Virgil jump again. There’s the sound of rapid typing.

“A victory!” The man says, lifting his glass—it looks to be full of whiskey. “A toast, to your latest triumph.”

“Oh, now,” she says, but when the other surrounding suits start lifting their glasses, Virgil lifts his, as well.

“To Ida Kelly,” the Brit says. “One of the finest artistic minds to walk the earth at our time!”

Virgil takes a sip of his champagne at the same time as everyone else; another woman in a deep green gown with a shawl edged in feathers takes Ida’s arm, rhapsodizing about the Impressionism movement and the latest event that her art gallery had put on.

It takes about a minute for Virgil to notice his vision going blurry in the corners.

It takes him about ten seconds of blinking hard and rubbing his eyes, hoping to clear it, to stumble over his own two feet.

It takes five seconds for Janus’ voice to buzz to life in his earpiece, urgent, “Virgil, get out of there, get away from that man, that’s Lo—”

It takes him about two seconds after that to notice that the blue-eyed Brit is looking at him with an expression clearly lacking remorse.

It takes him about half a second to realize the finger tapping one shoulder, his hand at his hand—the same hand that had been holding his champagne flute. He hadn’t been looking at his drink. The Brit had made him turn away from his drink.

The Brit put something in his drink.

Virgil’s been made.

“Good God, man,” another suited man says, when Virgil stumbles over his own two feet, “had enough of the bubbly, have you?”

Virgil ignores him; even as his vision is growing blurrier and blurrier, his eyes are intent on the Brit, staggering towards him, and he doesn’t even really know why. He’s been made, he should be running, but—

"Did you just fucking poison me, you fucking asshole?" Virgil slurs, and his sudden lack of physical control resoundingly answers the question before the Brit can; the arms that catch him before he can full flat on his face are muscular and warm. He’s distantly aware of the crystal-cut grass slipping from his hand and shattering on the marble.

The warm, muscular arms are more pressing than that. And, for a dirty rotten criminal who has probably killed people, the man is quite handsome. His bespectacled face swims in Virgil's vision.

"'I'm very sorry about this," he says smoothly, before his eyes widen in alarm. "Oh no.”

As Virgil is on the verge of unconsciousness, he hears, "It's you."

His last three thoughts before he slips under: did he just fucking say what he thought he said, then, good God his eyes are so blue, then, fuck, I should have paid way more attention to the Lewis clause.

⁂

Virgil is aware of three things as he wakes up: one, he feels like he has a dreadful hangover. Two, he’s pretty sure he’s in a plane or train or car or something moving, which makes him feel motion sick.

Three, he’s been stripped of his earpiece and his weapons.

He blinks his eyes open slowly, squinting; it’s night time, but even the low light is making Virgil’s eyes hurt.

This is a limousine, he can tell that much off the bat; the partition is closed, the glass tinted as dark as it legally can be, the interior leather light-colored, the bar fully stocked with different sodas and crystal-cut decanters full of various liquors, which makes him wince in memory of the champagne.

He feels like shit, but when he looks over and sees the blue-eyed Brit—his soulmate—his soulmate who had fucking drugged him and was working with the mob—it makes him feel even shittier.

“Ah,” his soulmate says. He’s sitting with one ankle resting on his knee, a squat glass of whiskey in hand. He has glasses on now that he hadn’t had on before. Also, his accent is no longer British; he’s got a nice Italian lilt to his voice, now. “Good. You’re awake.”

Virgil stares at him. He doesn’t say a word.

“I’ll admit this,” he gestures between them, “rather put a cinch in my plan on how to deal with you.”

“Would you have killed me?” Virgil asks. His voice comes out a croak. “If we weren’t...”

He trails off.

The man’s eyebrow arches, before he shrugs, and rolls up his sleeve. His soulmark is in the same place as Virgil’s—stamped across his left inner arm, in the spiky handwriting Virgil only uses in his personal notes, not the more uniform one he writes reports with.

Did you just fucking poison me, you fucking asshole?!

Undeniably a matching soulmark to his.

“My parents were quite bemused by it, when it showed up,” the Brit—or American?—the blue-eyed—his soulmate says. “I suppose we have our answers now.”

“Do we?” he says. 

The man takes a sip of whiskey. Then, he says, “Your predecessor was FBI. Are you the same?”

Virgil tenses. The man rolls his eyes again.

“Please,” he murmurs. “For an organization meant to be secretive, your lot are quite obvious when you trade moles in and out. One comes in, goes out, and coincidentally someone new is knocking on the door within the week. It’s absurdly simple to pinpoint who’s reporting back to your government. So. FBI, CIA, military...?”

“Who gives a fuck,” Virgil says.

“One should know what one’s soulmate does for a living, shouldn’t they?” he says. “This is a very unique situation. I’m simply trying to find out—”

“What do you do for a living, then?” Virgil snarls. His head is pounding, his mouth is dry and it tastes dreadful, his soulmate is an asshole working for the other side, and he’s being carted off to God knows where. This day is one of the worst of his life. Why couldn’t he have had a nice little café meet-cute, like Roman had had?

The man smiles at him, not particularly kindly. “I diversify.”

Virgil pulls a face, because he knows that’s poking fun at his cover.

“What,” Virgil says, “poison people on Monday, go to Ida Kelly’s resort on Tuesday, with a fun little Friday jaunt of killing people who cross the Trumans?”

“I’ve never actually been to the museum Ida Kelly curates,” the man admits. “It was an easy way to insert myself near you, to put it in your drink. And for goodness’ sake, it wasn’t poison.”

“Roofie. Drug. Whatever.”

The man’s eyebrows pull together, in a rather petulant expression. “I designed that myself, you know.”

“Well, it’s shit,” Virgil snaps. “I feel like I have the worst hangover of my goddamn life.”

“Yes, that was part of the design,” the man says, and offers him a glass of water.

Virgil stares at him. “Seriously.”

“No trust between soulmates?” He says.

“Yeah, well. Fool me once.”

The man shrugs, putting down the glass of water into a cupholder, before digging out a sealed water bottle. Virgil takes it and places it into a cupholder near him. No fucking way he’s accepting any food or drink from this man.

His lips quirk up into a smile.

“Where are you taking me?” Virgil says, ignoring the way that smile makes his heart pound.

“That rather depends,” he admits. 

“On?”

“Well.” He says. He uncrosses his legs, planting both feet on the floor. “I’m assuming that now the man in your little earpiece—he was rather rude—is aware that you have been, what is it you say? Made?”

Virgil nods.

“Well. Now that he, and therefore your employer, knows that you are made, you won’t be poking your nose into Truman business anymore, will you?”

Virgil grits his teeth. “Not undercover.”

The man ignores that. “And I know that no matter which you work for, the Lewis clause has been adopted across every arm of that government, and as such you’ll be prohibited from any mission that might bring you into contact with me.”

God damn it. How does he know the spy lessons better than Virgil does?

And then it occurs to him: Janus knew that man. He warned Virgil to get away from him, to get away from Lo—

He rolls this information around in his head. The Lewis clause isn’t exactly a widely advertised part of being a spy; there was a whole trilogy of novels that got adapted into secret agent movies, years ago, that concerned opposing agent spies coming to face each other again and again, and the secondary soulmate agents teamed up together. Which the Lewis clause would prevent, but the public who went and read those novels or saw those movies wouldn’t know that. 

So either this man—Lo? Lo what?—either knows a lot about spies, because he’s one of those know your enemy types, or...

Or he sat down and learned about the Lewis clause the same way that Virgil did, except he actually sat down and listened. Maybe he defected, maybe he’s dirty? Or maybe Virgil’s just overthinking it.

Look. Virgil’s got a lot of questions here. Chief among which:

“Where are you taking me?”

“Away,” the man says vaguely, looking at him. “Are you gay?”

Virgil gapes at him.

“I’d be perfectly fine with a platonic soulmate, but for the sake of disclosure, I am gay.”

“For the sake of disclosure,” Virgil repeats disbelievingly, and pinches the bridge of her nose, rubbing it. God, his head hurts terribly. 

“Bisexual, or pansexual, perhaps?” He prompts. “Asexual? Or... you could be straight, I suppose.”

“Ugh,” Virgil says reflexively, then shakes himself. “I’m not—okay. Fine. Yeah, I’m gay too.”

“All right,” the man says, as if noting it. “What’s your name?”

Virgil snorts.

“What?”

“Okay, I don’t—” he gestures to the limousine around them. “Again, you just drugged me. I don’t know where you’re taking me. You probably would have killed me if I hadn’t said those words.”

The man makes a moue of distaste.

“Or had someone kill me, I don’t know,” Virgil amends. “Either way, you’re working with that family, who I’m assuming aren’t pleased at having a spy getting caught trying to work himself into your ranks, so I’d rather you not know all that much about my life, thanks.”

“It’s not like I’m asking for your,” an infinitesimal pause, as if he’s wracking his brain, trying to remember something, “social security number or anything. A name.”

Virgil stares at this man. Lo—. Lo something. Lochlan? Loyd? Or was it a codename?

“Yours first.”

The man pauses.

“You drugged me,” Virgil says.

He smiles at Virgil. “Will you hold this over my head for the rest of our lives?”

The rest of our lives. Yes, that’s meant to be the fairytale ending for soulmates, isn’t it? A nice little meeting, the swell of overdramatic violins in the background, falling into each other’s arms and forming a life together. That’s the popular answer.

More and more recently, though, people have been advocating for choice; that soulmates are not always the best person for you.

Virgil doesn’t know which camp he and this man will fall into, just now.

“Yes,” Virgil says quietly. “Yes, I think I will.” 

The man sets aside his whiskey.

“Logan.” He says at last, and his accent has changed again; it’s vague, almost indecipherable, but if Virgil had to guess he’d say Midwestern American. Virgil wonders if it’s his real one. “My name is Logan.”

Logan.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Since discovering you’re my soulmate? I haven’t lied to you at all. Not a word.”

“Except for the accent.”

Logan laughs.

“Habit, sorry. It’s a long story that perhaps the man screaming in your earpiece will be able to tell you one day.”

Virgil jolts with surprise. “You know—?”

He cuts himself off before he can say Janus’ name.

“Reputationally,” Logan says, and, as strange as it is, Virgil believes him. In this, at least.

His soulmate’s name is Logan.

“Virgil.”

Logan smiles, his blue eyes glittering. “It’s nice to meet you, Virgil.”

There’s the sound of a soft knock on the partition, and it lowers; Virgil can’t see the driver.

“Sir? We’re here.”

“Right,” Logan murmurs, shaking himself. He reaches into his jacket and withdraws an envelope, offering it for Virgil.

Virgil hesitates.

Logan rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I’ve laced it with anything. I’m holding it with my bare hands.”

Virgil huffs, but he takes it, opening it and pulling out a thin piece of paper.

It’s a commercial flight ticket to Washington, D.C.

“Why D.C.?” Virgil says quietly.

“Most of those organizations are based there,” Logan says. “Is it too far a jump to assume that you are, as well?”

It is actually too far a jump; it’s not even remotely close, he lives in an entirely different part of the states. But. To be fully honest, he doesn’t want Logan to know the state he lives in, and therefore the state that Patton and Roman live in, until Virgil knows if he can be trusted or not.

Logan opens the limousine door from inside, revealing they’ve pulled up to the local airport.

“What, no private plane?”

“I assumed you wouldn’t trust that,” Logan says with a shrug. “The Trumans may be powerful, but you know as well as I that manipulating a flight of this nature is well outside their purview.”

Logan’s right, he absolutely wouldn’t have trusted that, but. This limo’s pretty swanky. For the time he wouldn’t have been obsessively running over every crack and seam in a private jet and interrogating the pilot, he probably would have had a pretty swell time.

Virgil swallows, looking up at Logan. “There are programs, you know? If you wanted to be a witness. Be in service to—”

Logan smiles at him in a way that’s almost pitying. “I left that life behind a long time ago.”

Virgil looks to the airport, then back at Logan.

“Will I see you again?”

Logan shrugs again, almost delicately. “Who’s to say?”

Virgil nods, once, and he says firmly, “I’ll see you later.”

Logan grins at him. “Not if I see you first.”

Virgil slips out of the limo, slams the door shut, and, with what feels like Herculean effort, manages to get into the airport without looking back to see if he can see Logan through the tinted glass.

He does exchange the ticket for another that’s an hour and a half later, though. He’s not a total idiot.

He gets through security pretty quick, and sits in one of the incredibly uncomfortable chairs, his brain pounding with his headache, the questions swirling around in his head making it even worse. Virgil puts his head in his hands.

He just met his soulmate.

His soulmate is working for a mob family.

He just met his soulmate.

His soulmate is apparently smart enough to specifically engineer a roofie.

His soulmate, though!

Janus knows his soulmate. Janus recognized his soulmate.

His soulmate knew about the fucking Lewis clause.

Was his soulmate a spy too? Was his soulmate in deep cover? Had he betrayed his organization? Was he a good person, or had the universe seen fit to hitch Virgil to someone awful?

How had Logan gotten entangled with the Trumans in the first place? Why wasn’t he in the dossier? 

Where was Logan even from? Did he like coffee? Hot chocolate? What had he studied in school? What was his favorite food? If they were normal people, would he have asked him on a date and not drugged him and dragged him off in a limo? 

Who was Logan?

Whatever the answers to his questions are, though. Virgil knows himself enough to know that he isn’t about to let this case go. Not the Trumans. Not him.

Lewis clause be damned.