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Os Casinos Controlam As Vitórias De Arne Slot? A Verdade Por Detrás Dos Mitos!

Arne slot é uma das atrações mais populares em casinos físicos e online. No entanto, muitos jogadores acreditam que os casinos controlam quando e como as slot machines pagam.

A ideia de que os casinos manipulam os ganhos das máquinas de jogo é um dos mitos mais persistentes no mundo do jogo.

Mas até que ponto é isso verdade? Neste artigo, vamos desmistificar os mitos que rodeiam as vitórias nas slot machines e descobrir a verdade por trás de como elas realmente funcionam.

Compreender Como Funcionam As Máquinas Caça-Níqueis

Para compreender verdadeiramente se os casinos controlam os ganhos nas máquinas de jogo, é essencial saber primeiro como funcionam estas máquinas.

Os geradores de números aleatórios (RNGs) garantem um jogo limpo

As máquinas de jogo operam utilizando um sistema conhecido como Gerador de Números Aleatórios (RNG). Este software garante que o resultado de cada ronda é completamente aleatório e independente das rondas anteriores.

O RNG gera números continuamente, mesmo quando a máquina não está a ser jogada.

Assim que um jogador pressiona o botão de rotação, a máquina seleciona um número aleatório que determina os símbolos que aparecem nas colunas.

Isto significa que cada rotação é completamente independente, sem qualquer slot real, e não existe nenhum padrão ou ciclo que possa ser previsto. Os casinos não têm controlo direto sobre os resultados de cada ronda.

Máquinas Regulamentadas e Auditadas

Tanto as máquinas de jogo físicas como as online estão sujeitas a regulamentos e auditorias rigorosas por parte das comissões de jogo e das entidades reguladoras.

Estas organizações, como a Gaming Laboratories International (GLI), a eCOGRA e a Malta Gaming Authority (MGA), garantem que as slot machines operam de forma justa e de acordo com as percentagens de Retorno ao Jogador (RTP) definidas.

Se os casinos pudessem manipular slot win à vontade, perderiam as suas licenças e enfrentariam multas pesadas.

Esta supervisão rigorosa garante que os jogos de slot são justos e oferecem igualdade de condições para todos os jogadores.

Desmascarando mitos comuns sobre vitórias em máquinas de jogo

Agora que temos uma compreensão básica de como funcionam as slot machines, vamos explorar e desmascarar alguns dos mitos mais comuns que rodeiam o controlo do casino sobre as vitórias nas slot machines.

Mito nº 1: Os casinos podem decidir quando uma slot machine paga

Uma das crenças mais comuns entre os jogadores é que os casinos podem ajustar manualmente os pagamentos de uma slot machine para aumentar ou diminuir os ganhos à vontade.

Verdade:

Os casinos não controlam quando uma slot machine paga. O resultado de cada ronda é determinado pelo RNG, o que garante resultados aleatórios. O casino pode definir a percentagem de RTP (Retorno ao Jogador) a longo prazo, mas não pode determinar o momento exato em que uma máquina ganhará um jackpot.

Mito nº 2: As slot machines têm sequências de “quentes” e “frios”

Muitos jogadores acreditam que se uma máquina de slots como a slot real não paga há algum tempo, "está na hora" de ganhar muito, ou que uma máquina que pagou um jackpot recentemente não voltará a pagar durante muito tempo.

Verdade:

Cada ronda numa máquina caça-níqueis é independente das rondas anteriores. Só porque uma máquina rodou muitas vezes sem ganhar, não significa que o prémio máximo esteja iminente.

Da mesma forma, uma máquina de jogo que pagou uma grande quantia recentemente não está programada para ficar fria. O RNG garante que cada ronda tem as mesmas probabilidades que a anterior.

Mito nº 3: Os casinos apertam os slots em noites movimentadas

Alguns jogadores afirmam que os casinos ajustam as definições das slot machines para pagar menos em noites movimentadas, quando há mais pessoas a jogar.

Verdade:

As percentagens de pagamento das máquinas de jogo de casino são definidas pelos criadores do jogo e aprovadas pelos reguladores. A alteração das percentagens de pagamento requer uma alteração física no software do jogo, o que não pode ser feito remotamente.

Além disso, ajustar as máquinas de jogo com demasiada frequência violaria as regulamentações dos jogos, tornando impossível para os casinos manipular os pagamentos com base no tamanho do público.

Mito nº 4: Usar o cartão do clube de um jogador afeta os pagamentos

Muitos jogadores acreditam que a inserção de um cartão de fidelidade do casino ou de um cartão do clube do jogador pode aumentar ou diminuir as suas hipóteses de ganhar.

Verdade:

O sistema de cartão de fidelização é completamente separado do RNG que controla os pagamentos das slot machines. O objetivo do cartão do clube de um jogador é acompanhar a atividade do jogador e oferecer recompensas, e não influenciar os resultados do jogo.

Mito nº 5: Os casinos online controlam mais os pagamentos do que os casinos físicos

Alguns jogadores acreditam que os casinos online têm mais controlo sobre os pagamentos das máquinas de jogo do que os casinos tradicionais.

Verdade:

Os casinos online utilizam a mesma tecnologia RNG dos casinos físicos para garantir justiça. Os casinos online licenciados são regulados pelas autoridades de jogo que realizam auditorias frequentes para garantir que os jogos cumprem os padrões de imparcialidade.

Na verdade, os casinos online têm frequentemente percentagens de RTP mais elevadas em comparação com os casinos físicos, o que significa que os jogadores podem ter mais hipóteses de ganhar online.

Mito nº 6: Apostas mais altas aumentam as suas hipóteses de ganhar

Alguns jogadores acreditam que se tiver slot mestre e agora apostar mais dinheiro por ronda, isso aumentará as suas hipóteses de ganhar o jackpot.

Verdade:

Embora alguns jogos de slot machine possam oferecer jackpots maiores para apostas mais elevadas, as probabilidades gerais de ganhar permanecem as mesmas, independentemente do tamanho da aposta.

O RNG garante que cada ronda é aleatória, o que significa que tanto as apostas pequenas como as grandes têm a mesma probabilidade de conseguir uma combinação vencedora.

Apostar mais pode aumentar os potenciais pagamentos, mas não afeta as hipóteses de ganhar.

Conclusão:

A ideia de que os casinos controlam diretamente quando e como as slot machines pagam é um mito! As slot machines operam com base na tecnologia RNG, garantindo que cada ronda é aleatória e independente. Os casinos não podem ajustar os pagamentos manualmente, e as suas operações são estritamente regulamentadas pelas autoridades de jogo.

Embora a casa tenha sempre uma vantagem devido às percentagens de RTP, os jogadores ainda têm hipóteses justas de ganhar. Ao compreender como funcionam as slot machines e jogar com responsabilidade, pode desfrutar da emoção do jogo sem cair em equívocos comuns.

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I Wanna Be Yours

Summary: You're a hacker for The Organization, a secret group that is currently working on dismantling a mutant trafficking ring. You've been working with Logan for months but neither of you have met each other in person and he doesn't even know your real name.

Word Count: 14.7k+

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

Notes: this is something i've wanted to do for a while- playing with the idea that logan can totally fall in love with someone just through their voice (and vice versa). i hope y'all enjoy it!

warnings/tags: reader has a code name, pet name (darling), light violence, mentions of (mutant) trafficking, some uses of y/n

“Bet you look good in that suit.” You say, tapping on your keyboard, hacking into the security cameras of the seedy casino where the deal was taking place.

Logan huffed, covertly adjusting the small earpiece as he blended in with the crowd of the dimly lit casino. His tuxedo felt too tight, but then again, it wasn’t like he was made for fancy suits and shiny shoes.

“Don’t go gettin’ all sentimental, Phantom. This thing barely fits,” he muttered, keeping his voice low and steady. He glanced around, taking in the sight of gamblers, dealers, and a few shifty-looking men gathered near a corner. Probably the ones he was here for.

“Must be hard to hide all those muscles,” you teased through the comm, your voice a steady whisper in his ear. “But I’ll try not to distract you, just this once.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as he slipped past a group of laughing tourists. He scanned the room, zeroing in on his target: a short, balding man with an expensive suit and a smug look on his face. Logan’s senses sharpened. He could practically smell the guy’s nervous sweat. This had to be one of the trafficking ring’s major players.

“Any idea where they’re at?” he asked, his tone shifting from playful to serious in an instant.

“Second floor. Private poker room,” you said, enlarging one of the camera feeds to get a better view. “Security’s tighter up there. You’ll need a distraction if you wanna get past those guards.”

Logan glanced at the stairway leading up. Two burly men stood in front, arms crossed, eyes scanning for any sign of trouble. “Can’t just slice my way through ‘em,” he grumbled. “What’ve you got for me, Phantom?”

“Patience,” you teased. “Trust me, I’m working on it.” You typed a few more commands, initiating a loop in the security feed of the second-floor hallway. “You’ve got a 30-second window. Move now.”

Logan didn’t need to be told twice. He slipped through the casino floor, dodging between slot machines and card tables until he reached the base of the stairwell. The guards barely glanced his way as he strolled past, looking for all the world like another high-roller with a chip on his shoulder.

“Almost too easy,” he muttered under his breath, taking the steps two at a time.

“I make it look easy,” you corrected, monitoring the shifting feeds as Logan made his way to the second floor. “Just keep moving. The loop’ll hold, but not for long.”

Logan reached the hallway, his eyes narrowing at the closed door leading to the poker room. He slowed his pace, ears straining to pick up any sounds on the other side. “Tell me you’ve got eyes in there.”

“Not yet, working on it,” you said. “This system’s layered, gonna take a sec.”

Logan let out a quiet growl. “Great. No pressure or anything.”

“Hey, if you’re in such a hurry, I could always—”

“Don’t,” he cut in. “Just—stay on it.” He pressed his back to the wall, inching closer to the door, waiting for your go.

There was a pause, and then, “Got it.” Your voice softened, like you were focusing extra hard. “Four guys in there. Three playing cards, one pacing by the window.”

“Let me guess,” Logan grunted. “The bald one’s pacing.”

“Bingo.”

Logan’s fingers flexed, the subtle urge to unsheathe his claws growing. But this was a delicate operation. No bloodshed if it could be helped.

“You’ve got any ideas how to get me in without turnin’ this into a brawl?” he asked, half-expecting you to come up with something clever.

“I’ve got a couple,” you replied, a smile evident in your tone. “But you won’t like them.”

Logan sighed. “Why do I feel like you’re about to mess with me?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” you said sweetly, then paused. “Okay, maybe a little. There’s a closet down the hall to your left. Go there.”

He frowned but did as you instructed, slipping into the darkened space, filled with cleaning supplies and boxes. “Now what?”

“Well, I could trigger a fire alarm, but that’s a little loud and obvious. Or, and hear me out, I could disrupt the air conditioning. Make it so hot in there they’ll be begging for an excuse to step outside.”

Logan chuckled under his breath. “That’s your big plan? Make ‘em sweat?”

“Worked on you, didn’t it?” you teased.

“Funny.” He shook his head, glancing at the vent above him. “Think they’ll all leave?”

“Probably not all at once, but it should get the ball rolling. Just be ready. I’ll handle the rest.” Your fingers flew over the keys again, tapping into the building’s climate control system.

After a moment, you heard Logan’s quiet grunt. “Feels like it’s workin’ already.”

“Yeah, I see the temp rising in their room.” You pulled up the camera feed again, watching as one of the guys at the table tugged at his collar, then another wiped at his brow.

“Ten bucks says Mr. Baldy cracks first,” you said, amused.

Logan smirked. “You’re on.”

Not even a minute passed before the bald man swore, yanked off his suit jacket, and threw it on the back of his chair. “I’m stepping out for some air,” you heard him mutter to the others.

Logan’s eyes flicked to the door, his body tense. “Here we go.”

As the door opened, Logan moved fast. He grabbed the guy, pulling him into the closet before he could make a sound. With a quick, non-lethal chokehold, the guy slumped to the ground unconscious. Logan checked his pulse—alive. Good.

“Nice work,” you whispered in his ear. “Bet he’s not going to wake up happy.”

Logan crouched down, frisking the guy’s pockets. “Let’s hope he’s got something useful on him,” he muttered.

“He’s got a keycard,” you said, watching the screen as Logan pulled out the small plastic card. “That should get you into the back office.”

Logan glanced down at the unconscious man. “You were right. I didn’t like your plan.”

You laughed softly through the comms. “You’ll get over it. Now go, before they notice their friend’s gone.”

Logan straightened up, giving the unconscious man one last look before slipping out of the closet. “You better have a plan for what’s next, Phantom.”

“I always do,” you said, smirking as you pulled up the building’s blueprints. “Just follow my lead. Take the hall to your right. There’s an access door near the end. It’ll get you closer to the office.”

Logan moved quickly, the soft thud of his footsteps barely audible. “You sure about this? That door doesn’t look like it’s meant for guests.”

“I’m sure,” you replied confidently. “It’s an employee access. You’ve got the keycard, remember?”

He grunted in response, holding the card up to the reader. The door unlocked with a faint beep. “You really do make this look easy.”

“I try,” you said, voice laced with amusement. “Now, once you’re inside, there’s a small hallway. You’ll want to hang a left, then a quick right. The office is at the end.”

Logan opened the door, slipping into the narrow hallway. “What’s the deal with this office? Anything I should know?”

“Could be where they’re stashing data on the trafficking network. Either that or it's where they’re counting money.” You were typing again, eyes scanning multiple camera feeds. “But I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

“Good feelin’, huh?” Logan muttered, carefully making his way through the corridor. “Hope that feelin’ is worth something.”

“It always is,” you shot back playfully. “You’ve got about a minute before someone notices the guy you knocked out is missin’. So… chop, chop.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan growled, reaching the door to the office. “And you said I was the impatient one.”

Before you could respond, he swiped the keycard again and pushed the door open. Inside, the room was dimly lit, filled with filing cabinets, a desk cluttered with paperwork, and a few old-looking computers. Logan’s nose twitched at the faint scent of stale cigarettes and cologne.

“Jackpot,” you whispered in his ear, pulling up the feed of the room. “There should be a terminal near the desk. Get me plugged in, and I’ll handle the rest.”

Logan looked over at the outdated equipment and scowled. “This stuff’s ancient. Hope you can work with it, Phantom.”

“Please, I’ve hacked worse,” you said, brushing off the concern. “Just get me connected.”

Logan knelt down, finding a small port on the side of the computer and pulling out a cable from his gear. As soon as he plugged it in, your fingers danced across the keyboard, breaking through layers of security.

“There we go,” you murmured. “This’ll take a second. How are things on your end?”

Logan stood back up, glancing around the room. “Quiet. For now.”

“Good, because I’ve got eyes on another guy heading your way,” you warned. “He’s probably checking in on his boss. You might wanna handle him before he stumbles on Baldy.”

Logan’s fists clenched. “Great. Any more good news?”

“Depends. You want the good news or the bad news first?” you asked lightly, your tone casual despite the urgency of the situation.

“Just spit it out.”

“Good news? I’m almost done here. Bad news? You’ve got about thirty seconds before that guy reaches you.”

Logan let out a low growl. “Any suggestions?”

“Well,” you said thoughtfully, “you could go for subtle and knock him out—again. Or you could do the Logan thing and scare the crap out of him.”

Logan smirked. “And here I thought you were gonna say ‘no bloodshed.’”

“I’m flexible,” you teased. “Your call.”

Logan moved toward the door, listening carefully. The approaching footsteps were getting closer. “I’ll try subtle,” he muttered. Then, almost as an afterthought, “for you.”

“Aw, how sweet,” you quipped. “I’ll be sure to remember this moment.”

He cracked the door open just as the guy turned the corner. Logan grabbed him by the collar, yanking him into the room before he could shout. A quick punch to the gut, and the guy doubled over, gasping for air. Logan pressed him against the wall, one hand firmly over his mouth.

“Stay quiet, and I won’t hurt you,” Logan growled, his tone low and threatening.

The guy’s eyes widened, and he gave a shaky nod. Logan let him go, and he slumped to the floor, half-conscious.

“Nice work,” you praised, your voice a soft murmur in his ear. “You’ve still got it.”

“Didn’t lose it,” Logan muttered, stepping over the guy and returning to the desk. “You done yet?”

“Just about,” you said. “And… there. I’ve got everything. You’re good to go.”

Logan disconnected the cable, glancing around the room once more. “And you’re sure this’ll help us track the ring?”

“Positive,” you replied confidently. “Now, get out of there before someone else shows up.”

Logan took one last look at the unconscious man on the floor. “You got a clear path for me?”

“Always,” you said, your fingers flying over the keys again. “Head back the way you came. I’ll loop the cameras again. And don’t worry, I’ll keep them busy downstairs.”

Logan smirked as he stepped back into the hallway. “Sometimes I forget how useful you are.”

“Only sometimes?” you teased.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t push your luck, Phantom.”

You smiled to yourself, watching the feeds as Logan made his way through the building. “Whatever you say, Logan. You owe me one.”

“Add it to the list,” he said, his voice gruff but laced with a hint of amusement.

“Believe me, I am.” You took a bite of your cake, an orange cardamom one you made the other day.

“The hell are you doin’?” Logan asked.

You shrugged, “I’m eatin’. Thought now was a better time than ever. Let’s my fingers have a break. Got a problem, Wolf?” you ask, taking another bite of your cake, your tone teasing through the comm.

Logan’s voice grumbled in your ear, low and irritated. "We're in the middle of a mission, and you’re havin’ dessert?"

"Hey, a girl’s gotta eat," you reply casually, wiping a few crumbs off your keyboard. "I’ve earned it. You’re lucky I’m not eating popcorn with the way this operation’s going. Besides, I’m the one doing the hard work behind the scenes, remember?"

"You’re sittin’ in front of a computer, Phantom," Logan shot back, though you could hear the faintest trace of a smirk in his voice. "Not exactly the front lines."

"Exactly. Where would you be without me?" you retort, savoring another bite of cake. "I’m the reason you’re not punching your way through the entire casino right now."

Logan stayed quiet for a beat. You could imagine him clenching his jaw, trying to decide whether to argue or just let you have your moment. "You done?"

You chuckle softly, leaning back in your chair. "For now. You make it out of there yet?"

"Almost," Logan muttered, his voice low as he moved through the hall. "Place is still crawling with these scumbags. Any chance you can keep ‘em distracted?"

"Already ahead of you," you said, your fingers flying over the keyboard again. "Looping the feeds, and I’ve got a little surprise coming for the main floor. Keep your eyes open."

Logan grunted in response, his boots making soft thuds as he crept through the back corridors. "Surprise, huh? What kind of surprise?"

"You’ll see," you said cryptically, unable to hide the amusement in your tone.

There was a pause before Logan spoke again, quieter this time. "You always this chatty during missions?"

You tilted your head, curious. "Depends on who I’m working with. Some people are all business, no fun. Others… well, they don’t mind a little conversation. Keeps things from getting too tense."

"Huh," Logan responded, noncommittal. But then, after another beat, he added, "Guess it ain’t so bad."

Your eyebrows shot up. "Was that a compliment? Did Wolverine just say something nice?"

"Don’t push it, Phantom," Logan growled, but there was a hint of a smile in his voice.

You grinned to yourself, pleased that you’d gotten under his skin a little. "Alright, alright. I’ll stop before you start getting sentimental on me."

Logan was quiet for a moment, then muttered, "Not much chance of that."

Before you could reply, you heard footsteps in the feed, heading in Logan’s direction. Your tone shifted, all business now. "Logan, hold up. Someone’s coming your way, about twenty feet ahead."

"Great," he grumbled, already moving to the side, pressing himself into the shadows.

You watched the camera feed, tracking the figure’s movement. "Wait… looks like it’s just one guy. Should be easy to handle."

Logan’s low growl rumbled through the comm. "Easy for you to say."

You rolled your eyes, but your focus stayed on the screen. "You’re Wolverine. You’ll be fine. Just make sure he doesn’t see you."

A few seconds passed, and then you heard a soft thud. Logan’s voice came back through the comm, sounding slightly breathless. "Handled."

"See? Told you. Easy," you said smugly.

Logan didn’t respond right away, probably too busy moving again. You kept your eyes on the security feeds, tracking his progress. Finally, you heard his voice, a little softer this time. "Thanks."

Your fingers paused over the keys. "For what?"

"For not gettin’ in the way," he said, almost gruffly, but you could tell he meant it.

You smiled, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "Anytime, Wolf."

There was a brief silence, and then Logan cleared his throat. "So, you gonna tell me what this surprise is, or you just keepin’ me in the dark?"

You leaned forward, grinning. "Oh, right. Almost forgot. Check the main floor in about… five seconds."

Logan didn’t say anything, but you imagined him looking around suspiciously. Then, just as you’d planned, the lights in the main casino flickered before the fire alarms started blaring. You heard Logan’s quiet chuckle through the comm.

"That your idea of subtle?"

"I prefer ‘effective,’" you said, watching as the casino patrons started panicking, scrambling for the exits. "Should give you the distraction you need to get out clean."

Logan let out a low laugh. "I’ll give you that, Phantom. You make one hell of a distraction."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," you teased, though you couldn’t help the slight flush creeping up your neck. "Now hurry up and get out of there before someone starts putting two and two together."

"On it," Logan muttered, the sound of the alarm still faint in the background as he made his way out. "I’m guessin’ you already got us an exit plan?"

You leaned back in your chair, tapping your fingers against the desk. "I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that. Side door, west end of the building. You’ve got about three minutes before the cops show up."

Logan moved swiftly, his footsteps barely audible now. "You really are somethin’ else, y’know that?"

You smirked. "I’ve heard that once or twice."

As Logan slipped through the side door, you watched him disappear from the building’s cameras, your job mostly done. “You’re clear. Ricky wants you to meet him tomorrow morning, 8 sharp for a debrief.”

Logan let out a short grunt. “Ricky, huh? Great. I’ll bring donuts.”

You smiled, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “You could at least try to pretend you’re not completely over these meetings.”

Logan’s voice crackled through the comm, rough but with a hint of humor. “I’m over a lotta things, Phantom. Meetin’s just one of ‘em.”

You leaned back in your chair, stretching out your arms. “Well, don’t be late. You know how Ricky gets when he’s kept waitin’.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan muttered. There was a pause, and then, “What about you? You gonna be there?”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised at the question. “You think I just show up to these things? I’m the behind-the-scenes tech genius, remember? My job’s done.”

Logan huffed. “Yeah, well… guess I figured after all this time, I’d finally meet the mystery hacker.”

There was something in his voice—something almost like curiosity—but you brushed it off with a light laugh. “Aw, are you saying you miss me already, Wolf?”

“Don’t push it,” Logan shot back, though there was a playful edge to his words. “Just seems weird, is all. Workin’ together this long and never even met you face-to-face.”

You paused for a moment, considering his words. It was weird. You’d been guiding Logan through missions for months now, your voices constantly in each other’s ears, but you had never been in the same room. A part of you liked it that way—it kept things professional, detached. Safer. But another part of you… well, maybe you were curious too.

“Maybe one day,” you said lightly, dodging the subject. “But for now, I think it’s better this way. Keeps the mystery alive, right?”

Logan snorted. “Yeah, real mysterious. You sittin’ there eatin’ cake while I’m out here doin’ the heavy liftin’.”

You smirked. “It’s called multitasking, Logan. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

Before he could respond, a soft beep on your computer alerted you that the building’s security systems were coming back online. The loop you’d created was about to end.

“Looks like my window’s closing,” you said, typing a few last commands. “Everything’s going back to normal on their end. You’re officially off the radar.”

“Good. Was gettin’ sick of the place anyway,” Logan muttered. You could hear the sound of traffic now, indicating he was out on the street. “You sure you don’t wanna show up tomorrow?”

“Why?” you asked, amused. “So you can finally see if I really do eat cake during all your missions?”

Logan grumbled something under his breath. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Meeting him in person… it’d be a big step. The dynamics between you two would change. And honestly, you weren’t sure if that was a good idea. But at the same time, a part of you was curious about the man behind the gruff voice and dry humor.

“We’ll see,” you said, keeping your tone light. “But don’t hold your breath, Wolf.”

Logan was quiet for a second before he let out a low chuckle. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it. See you around, Phantom.”

With that, the line went dead, and you leaned back in your chair, staring at the screen. You could still hear Logan’s voice in your head, and for a moment, you wondered what it’d be like to finally meet him. But then you shook the thought away, focusing back on your monitors.

It was safer this way. Easier. Less complicated.

But as you closed down your systems for the night, a small, nagging part of you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever get the chance to see the man behind the voice.

---

The next morning, you found yourself up earlier than usual, sipping coffee and thinking about Logan’s mission. You knew he was already at the debrief with Ricky, probably sitting there with that irritated look on his face. The thought made you smile.

You were in the middle of pulling up some new data on the trafficking ring when your phone buzzed with a message.

Logan: Missin’ you at this meeting. Ricky’s talkin’ my ear off.

You blinked at the screen, surprised. You weren’t expecting a text from Logan, let alone one like that. He wasn’t usually the type to check in.

You: I’m sure you’re handling it like a pro. Should I send donuts as a peace offering?

His reply came almost immediately.

Logan: Yeah, make it two dozen.

You snorted into your coffee, shaking your head.

You: I’ll see what I can do. How’d the debrief go?

There was a pause before Logan replied.

Logan: Fine. Got another mission lined up. They want you back on comms. Same setup.

Your fingers hesitated over the keys before you typed back.

You: Guess that means you’re stuck with me a little longer, huh?

Logan: Could be worse.

You smiled to yourself, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. It was a small thing, but the fact that Logan had reached out to you, even if it was just to complain about a meeting, felt like progress.

You: Just let me know when you’re ready for another round, Wolf. I’ll be there.

Logan: Yeah, I know you will.

You stared at the screen for a second longer, feeling something stir in the pit of your stomach. You shook it off, downed the rest of your coffee, and started pulling up the files for the next mission.

There was no time for distractions—not when the stakes were this high.

But still, a small part of you couldn’t help but look forward to hearing Logan’s voice in your ear again.

---

“Why don’t you tell me something ‘bout you?”

You raised an eyebrow at Logan’s question, momentarily pausing your typing before resuming. “I don’t know… don’t want a strange man knowin’ about me, do I?”

There was a low chuckle on the other end of the line. "Strange man, huh? Thought we were past that by now."

You smirked, leaning back in your chair. “Well, I guess you’re not that strange, Wolf. But still. Not sure I’m ready to spill all my secrets.”

“I’m not askin’ for all your secrets. Just one.” His voice was rough, but there was a hint of curiosity behind it, like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you. Which was… unexpected.

You tapped your fingers against the keyboard, considering. “Alright. Something about me, huh? Let’s see… I used to hate coffee. Couldn’t stand the taste.”

Logan snorted. “That’s it? C’mon, Phantom, give me somethin’ better than that.”

“Hey, you didn’t specify what kind of fact,” you shot back, a grin creeping onto your face. “But fine, if you want something more interesting… I got kicked out of my computer science class once.”

There was a beat of silence. “You? Miss hacker extraordinaire? What the hell did you do?”

You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see you. “Maybe I hacked into the school’s system to change a grade or two. Not mine, though. A friend’s. The professor wasn’t too thrilled about it.”

Logan’s laugh came through the line, deeper this time. “Should’ve known you’d be trouble.”

You smiled, leaning forward again. “Well, you’re stuck with me now.”

“Seems like it,” he muttered, a hint of something in his voice that made your stomach flip.

You cleared your throat, steering the conversation back on track. “Alright, your turn. Tell me something about you.”

“Not much to tell.” Logan’s voice was gruff, almost dismissive, but you could hear the hesitation.

“Come on, fair’s fair,” you pressed. “You can’t ask me for something and not return the favor.”

He was silent for a moment, and you could almost picture him sitting there, deciding how much he wanted to give away. Logan was driving, he had finished another mission with you on the line like always. Except this time, it ended with a man tied up and unconscious in the trunk for Ricky.

Finally, he sighed. “Alright. You want something about me? I used to be a lumberjack.”

You blinked, thrown off by the admission. “A lumberjack? Like, chopping down trees and all that?”

“Yeah. Chopping down trees, clearing land. It was… quiet. Simple.”

You let that sink in, the image of Logan swinging an axe somehow fitting. “Sounds nice. Bet you looked right at home doing it.”

He huffed a short laugh. “Not sure anyone’s ever ‘at home’ doing that, but yeah, it wasn’t bad. Kept me grounded, I guess.”

There was something unspoken in his voice, something heavy. You knew enough by now to not push too hard, so instead, you kept it light. “So, from chopping trees to chasing bad guys and mutants. Quite the career change.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Logan’s tone shifted, and you could tell he was ready to move on. “Enough ‘bout me. What’s the status on those files? You find anything new?”

You glanced at your screen, where the data on the trafficking ring was slowly coming together. “A few new leads. Cross-referenced some names from the last mission, and there’s definitely a connection between the ring and a shipping company based in Miami. Could be our way in.”

“Good.” Logan’s voice was steady, all business again. “Send me the details when you’re done. Ricky’s gonna want to know.”

You nodded to yourself, already pulling up the files to forward to him. “You got it. And Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Try not to let Ricky drive you too crazy. I’m not sending donuts again.”

Logan snorted. “No promises.”

---

Two days later, you were back at your desk, knee-deep in code, when the comms crackled to life.

“You ready, Phantom?”

You smiled to yourself, hearing Logan’s voice in your ear again. “Always. You good to go?”

“Locked and loaded,” he replied, the sound of a car door shutting in the background. “What’s the target this time?”

You tapped a few keys, bringing up the map. “Warehouse in Miami. Based on the intel we pulled, this is one of their main distribution points. High traffic, lots of movement at night.”

“Security?”

“Pretty tight, but nothing we can’t handle. I’ll be your eyes and ears. You just focus on getting in and out.”

“Like always.” There was a pause, then, “You ever been to Miami?”

You raised an eyebrow at the question. “Once or twice. Why?”

“Just curious. Thought maybe you’d have some recommendations on where to go after all this is over.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “What, planning a vacation already?”

“Maybe. Depends how fast we wrap this up.”

Shaking your head, you brought the focus back to the mission. “Alright, Wolf. Let’s get through this first, then we can talk about your beach plans.”

Logan chuckled, low and rough. “Deal.”

As you guided him through the back streets of Miami, tracking his every move on the security cameras, you couldn’t help but feel that familiar sense of anticipation. Working with Logan had become second nature by now, and yet there was always this underlying tension, this unspoken connection between you two that made every mission just a little more intense.

“Left at the next alley,” you instructed, your eyes flicking between the camera feeds. “You’ll see a door around the corner. Should be unlocked.”

“Got it,” Logan replied, his voice steady. You could hear his footsteps echoing off the alley walls as he approached the warehouse.

“Any movement inside?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

You scanned the interior feeds. “Three guards on the ground floor, two patrolling the upper levels. They’re not on high alert, though. You should be able to slip past them.”

“Easy enough.”

You listened to the sound of him moving, the slight creak of a door opening, then the soft thud of his boots on concrete. You kept your focus on the screens, heart rate picking up as Logan made his way deeper into the building.

“There’s a stairwell to your left,” you whispered, though no one but Logan could hear you. “Take it up. The control room’s on the second floor.”

“On it.”

Everything was going smoothly—until it wasn’t.

“Shit,” Logan muttered, his voice tense. “Got company.”

Your eyes flew to the nearest camera, catching sight of two guards rounding the corner, guns drawn.

“Hang on,” you said quickly, fingers flying across the keyboard. “I’m looping the camera feed—there, they shouldn’t be able to see you now.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, but you heard the scuffle over the line, the sound of fists meeting flesh, followed by a grunt of pain. You held your breath, watching the screens intently.

“Logan? You good?”

There was a beat of silence before his voice came through, breathless but unbothered. “Yeah. Just had to put a couple guys to sleep.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “Jesus, give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”

“Don’t worry, Phantom. I’ve got it under control.”

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, and despite the tension, you couldn’t help but smile. “Well, next time, maybe give me a little warning before you go all Rambo on me.”

“No promises,” Logan’s voice crackled through the comms, and you could practically hear the grin in his tone. There was a brief pause before he added, “You still with me, Phantom?”

You shook your head, trying to suppress a smile. “Barely. I swear, you’ll be the death of me one of these days.”

His laugh came low and rough, and for a moment, you let yourself relax a little, the tension from earlier easing. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that.”

“Yeah, well, I mean it,” you shot back, eyes scanning the multiple screens in front of you. The warehouse was sprawling, but you had a pretty good read on the layout by now. “You’re clear to move. No one else on this floor.”

“Got it.” You heard the soft thud of his boots again as he moved forward.

“So, what’s the next step?” Logan asked, keeping his voice low. “You got me runnin’ around this place, but you haven’t told me what I’m lookin’ for.”

“Patience, Wolf,” you teased, tapping a few more keys to bring up the rest of the building’s security system. “I’m working on it. There’s a secure server room on the north side of the building. That’s where they’re storing the data we need. You’re gonna have to bypass their security to get in.”

“Piece of cake.”

“Funny you mention cake,” you said, grinning to yourself as you tapped into the server’s firewall. “Because after this, I’m thinking you owe me some. Maybe even pie. You’re racking up quite the tab.”

Logan chuckled. “Yeah? We’ll see. First, let’s get through this alive.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

As you worked, your mind drifted for a second, the familiar rhythm of the job taking over. It was almost unsettling how natural it had become to guide Logan through these kinds of missions. You weren’t sure when you’d started looking forward to them—maybe it was the banter, maybe it was the trust you’d built. But either way, it had become a part of your routine.

“Server room’s on the right,” you said after a beat, focusing back on the task at hand. “Two guards outside, but they don’t seem too alert. Shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

Logan’s voice was smooth as he replied, “Already ahead of you. On my way.”

You kept your eyes on the screen, watching as he moved through the shadows, blending in with the dark corners of the warehouse. It was impressive, really. The way he worked was so fluid, like he’d done this a thousand times before. And, well, he probably had.

“There’s an override switch on the wall next to the door,” you instructed. “Flip it, and you’ll have access.”

Logan grunted in response, and a moment later, you heard the soft click of the door unlocking.

“Inside,” he muttered. “Now what?”

You were about to respond when a sudden blip on your screen caught your attention. “Wait, hold up,” you said quickly, fingers flying across the keyboard. “We’ve got movement. Someone’s heading toward your location. Two guards, second floor.”

Logan’s voice was calm, even as he moved into action. “How long do I have?”

“Not long. They’re coming fast.” Your heart pounded as you watched the dots on the map converge on his location. “You need to get out of there, now.”

“Too late for that,” Logan muttered, the sounds of heavy footsteps echoing through the comms.

“Logan—”

“Don’t worry, Phantom,” he cut you off, and you could hear the smirk in his voice again. “I’ve got this.”

The next thing you heard was the unmistakable sound of fists hitting flesh, followed by a low grunt of pain. You winced, even though you couldn’t see what was happening.

“Logan? Talk to me.”

More sounds of a struggle came through, and then finally, Logan’s voice, slightly breathless but unbothered. “Two down. Told ya, no problem.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, well, maybe next time don’t wait until the last second to handle it.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even though your nerves were still on edge. “You’re impossible.”

“That’s what they tell me,” he replied, and you could hear the faint rustle of him moving again. “Alright, I’m at the server. How much time do we need?”

“Give me five minutes,” you said, fingers flying across the keyboard as you initiated the download remotely. “I’m pulling the data now. Just stay put until I finish.”

“Five minutes? Thought you were faster than that, Phantom.”

“Don’t push it, Logan,” you shot back, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “I’d like to see you hack into a secured server faster.”

“Maybe I’ll give it a shot one of these days,” he muttered, the humor still in his voice. “Bet I’d be a natural.”

“Please. You’d probably smash the computer before you even logged in.”

“Only if it pissed me off.”

You shook your head, focusing back on the task at hand. “Alright, I’m almost done. Just a few more seconds.”

There was silence on the line for a moment, and you could hear Logan shifting in place, his breaths slow and steady.

“You ever think about doin’ this full time?” he asked suddenly, his voice lower now, more serious.

“Hacking?” you replied, thrown off by the question. “I mean, I’m not exactly doing this for the money. Why?”

“Just curious,” Logan said, and you could tell by his tone that he wasn’t pressing the issue. “Seems like you’re good at it. You could make a real difference.”

You hesitated, fingers hovering over the keys. “I’m already making a difference,” you said softly, your voice quieter than usual. “I don’t need to do it full time to feel like it matters.”

There was a pause, and for a moment, you thought maybe the line had cut out. But then Logan spoke again, his voice low and almost… thoughtful.

“Yeah. Guess you’re right.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you didn’t. Instead, you focused on finishing the download, the soft hum of the servers filling the silence between you.

“Got it,” you said finally, leaning back in your chair with a sigh of relief. “Download’s complete. You’re good to go.”

Logan didn’t reply right away, but you could hear the soft sound of him moving, his footsteps heavy against the concrete floor.

“Logan?” you prompted after a moment, the silence starting to make you uneasy.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice a little distant. “I’m on my way out.”

You nodded to yourself, watching his dot move across the map on your screen. “Good. Let’s get you out of there.”

As you guided him back through the warehouse, you couldn’t help but wonder what had changed in his voice during those last few minutes. Something about the way he’d asked that question—about doing this full time—had caught you off guard.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. You had a job to finish, and Logan needed to get out of there safely.

“Alright, you’re clear,” you said once he reached the exit. “No one’s around. Just make sure you don’t—”

“Yeah, I know,” Logan interrupted, and you could hear the smirk in his voice again. “Don’t get shot. You’ve told me a thousand times, Phantom.”

“Then maybe this time you’ll listen,” you shot back, grinning despite yourself.

Logan chuckled, the sound low and rough. “No promises.”

And with that, the line went quiet, leaving you alone in the soft glow of your computer screen.

---

"Alright, your change is $2.87. Have a good one.” You handed the change and a paper bag to the customer, smiling politely. After brushing your hands on your pastel blue apron, you turned to the next person in line. "How can I help—”

You paused mid-sentence as you looked up, surprised to see Ricky standing in front of you with a smirk on his face. You let out an exaggerated sigh. “The regular?”

“Always.” Ricky leaned against the counter, watching you with that usual casual attitude. “You know me too well, Phantom.”

You scoffed lightly at the use of your codename in the middle of your bakery. "Could you not call me that here?" You motioned to the line behind him. “I’d prefer not to blow my cover in front of customers.”

Ricky grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Relax, I’m just messin’ with you. Your secret’s safe with me.”

You shook your head and started prepping his order, grabbing a coffee and a chocolate croissant, which he always got whenever he visited your bakery. “What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have something better to do than bother me at work?”

“Maybe I just missed my favorite hacker-slash-baker,” Ricky teased, crossing his arms as he watched you work. “Figured I’d stop by and see how you’re holding up.”

You raised an eyebrow, handing him the coffee. “I’m holding up fine. Business as usual.”

“Yeah. This place looks better than before. New paint job?”

“Actually, no. New tables and chairs.” You replied. Computer programming had always been something you enjoyed and loved, but when you started working for a big tech company, you couldn’t help but feel like your talents were going to waste.

You found Ricky, or rather, Ricky found you, and you were recruited into ‘The Organization’ to take down mutant trafficking rings. You still needed money, so you decided to put to use your other skill, baking. You opened a small bakery in New York City and have been running it for close to 2 years now.

Ricky leaned against the counter, eyeing the new setup. “So this is what you do when you’re not saving the world? Whip up some cupcakes?”

You rolled your eyes as you placed the croissant in a bag. “Something like that. Gotta pay the bills, right?”

Ricky took the bag from you, giving you a knowing smirk. “You know, it’s still hard to picture you as a baker. I keep waiting for the day I come in here, and all the pastries are bugged with tiny microphones.”

You snorted. “Please. Like I’d waste good croissants on something like that.”

He laughed, then took a sip of his coffee. “You heard from Logan?”

Your fingers froze for a split second, but you quickly masked it by busying yourself with wiping down the counter. “Why? Did something happen?”

Ricky raised an eyebrow. “No, not that I know of. Just thought he might’ve reached out, is all.”

You shrugged, trying to keep your tone casual. “He’s probably busy. You know how it is.”

“Mhm.” Ricky gave you a look that suggested he wasn’t buying it. “Right. Busy.”

You shot him a glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He grinned, shaking his head. “Nothing, Phantom. Just… you two seem to get along pretty well. That’s all.”

You felt a warmth creeping up the back of your neck and quickly turned away, focusing on the pastries again. “We work well together, if that’s what you mean.”

“Sure, sure,” Ricky said, clearly amused. “Just don’t let ol’ Wolf get too attached. He’s not exactly the sentimental type.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, I’m not worried about that.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t help but think back to the last mission. The banter, the small moments where Logan seemed to let his guard down—just a little. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you wonder.

Ricky stood up straight, crumpling the paper bag in his hand. “Alright, Phantom. I’ll leave you to your cupcakes and secret side missions. Just don’t go getting yourself into trouble.”

“Me? Trouble?” you grinned. “Never.”

He chuckled, heading for the door. “Catch you later.”

As soon as he was gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Ricky had a way of pushing your buttons just enough to make you think. And now you couldn’t stop replaying your recent conversations with Logan in your head. It was strange—this… thing between you two. He wasn’t like anyone you’d worked with before. And yet, it felt natural, like you’d known each other much longer than a few months.

Your phone buzzed in your apron pocket, snapping you out of your thoughts. You pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

Logan: Got some info for you. When’s your next shift with me?

You bit your lip, your fingers hovering over the keys for a second before you replied.

You: Whenever you need me. What’s the mission?

Logan: I’ll fill you in later. Just be ready.

You: Always am, Wolf.

A short pause, then Logan’s reply came through.

Logan: I know.

You stared at the screen for a moment longer, feeling that familiar flutter in your chest. Shaking your head, you shoved the phone back into your pocket. You had a business to run, after all. There was no time to dwell on this… whatever it was between you and Logan.

But as you served the next customer with a practiced smile, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that your next mission with him was going to be different. Maybe it already was.

---

“You ever been to New York City?” Logan asked.

You briefly stopped your typing on the keyboard, “maybe. Maybe not. Why?”

Logan’s voice crackled through the earpiece, low and rough as always. “Just curious. Figured you might’ve wandered through at some point, considering how close we’ve been workin’ together.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at the surveillance feed on your screen. “Is this your version of small talk, Wolf? Because I gotta say, you’re not exactly known for that.”

He chuckled. “Nah, just figured it was worth askin’. You ever get outta that basement of yours?”

You leaned back in your chair, smirking to yourself. “I’m not always in a basement, you know. I have other things going on. Like you, sweetie. You focusing on those wires?”

“Sweetie?” Logan’s voice came back with a low growl, amusement lacing his tone. “You know I don’t get distracted easy, darlin’.”

You smirked at the monitor in front of you, watching as he carefully maneuvered through the narrow corridor of the warehouse. “Just making sure. Wouldn’t want to have to bail you out if you trip a wire.”

“Funny,” he muttered. “You’re soundin’ real confident for someone sittin’ comfy at a keyboard.”

“Hey, I’m not comfy,” you shot back, leaning closer to the screen. “I’m on the edge of my seat watching your back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan said, the sound of a door creaking open in the background. “What do you see up ahead?”

You focused on the different camera feeds, your fingers flying over the keys to switch between views. “Two guards in the hallway to your left. Armed. They’re just patrolling, so if you wait about ten seconds, you should be able to slip by.”

“Copy that.” His breathing slowed, the sound of footsteps faint as he pressed himself against the wall. “Tell me somethin’, Phantom. What do you do when you’re not playin’ babysitter for me?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Logan grunted softly, the sound of his claws extending briefly as he took a peek around the corner. “Yeah, kinda. All I get’s that voice of yours—still gotta figure out the face that goes with it.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “You’re obsessed, Wolf.”

“Never said I wasn’t.” There was a beat of silence as Logan moved silently down the hallway, bypassing the guards with ease. “But you still didn’t answer me.”

You sighed dramatically, switching to another camera feed that showed a large storage room filled with crates. “What do you think I do? Sit in a dark room, hacking into firewalls all day?”

Logan snorted. “Ain’t that what you’re doin’ now?”

“Touché.” You shifted slightly, watching him take down a lone guard with a quick, precise movement. “But no. I do have a life outside of this, you know.”

“Like what?” He sounded genuinely curious now, and you could almost picture the way his brows would be furrowed in concentration. “You got a family? Friends?”

You paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Family? Not really. Friends? Also a stretch. But you didn’t feel like sharing that right now. “I’ve got… a business to run.”

Logan was quiet for a moment. “A business, huh? Didn’t think you’d be the type to deal with customers.”

“Why not?” you shot back. “I’m very good with people, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah, like the time you almost tore that guy a new one when he questioned your coding?” He chuckled, the sound low and deep in your ear. “Real people person, darlin’.”

“Okay, that was one time.” You rolled your eyes. “And he deserved it. But yeah, I’m pretty good with people—when I want to be.”

“Uh-huh.” There was a rustling noise, like he was checking through one of the crates. “What kinda business?”

You hesitated again. Part of you wanted to keep that piece of your life separate from Logan. But he’d been honest with you about a lot of things—his past, his work, even some of his regrets. It seemed only fair to give a little in return.

“...A bakery,” you finally admitted, almost cringing at how mundane it sounded compared to the world you two operated in.

There was a long pause on the other end. Then—

“A bakery?” Logan repeated, his voice thick with disbelief. “Like… cupcakes and cookies bakery?”

“Yeah, Wolf,” you said dryly, feeling heat creep up your neck. “I bake things. It’s called having a hobby.”

He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “Just tryin’ to picture it, that’s all. Our resident hacker pullin’ cookies out of the oven.”

“Is that so hard to imagine?” You switched to another feed, tracking his progress through the facility. “I bet you’d like my cookies.”

“Yeah?” There was a hint of teasing in his voice now. “You gonna make some for me sometime?”

You bit your lip, surprised at the sudden flutter in your chest at the thought. “Maybe. If you’re good.”

“Darlin’, I’m always good.”

“Debatable,” you shot back quickly, but your smile softened at the edges. “But I’ll keep that in mind.”

There was another pause, and you could hear Logan’s soft exhale through the comms. “You really own a bakery?”

“Yes, really,” you said, feeling oddly defensive now. “I’m not making it up just to sound cute.”

He chuckled again. “I didn’t think that. Just… didn’t see it comin’, is all. Got any specialties?”

You blinked at the sudden change in tone, a mix of genuine curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Well, I make a mean chocolate croissant.”

“Chocolate croissant, huh?” He sounded like he was mulling it over. “Could go for one right now.”

“Focus, Wolf,” you teased, but there was a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the coffee beside you. “Get through this mission, and maybe I’ll let you try one.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” His voice was low, a promise wrapped in that simple statement.

For a moment, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. It was strange how easy it felt, talking like this. Like you weren’t two people who only knew each other through voices and screens. Like there was something more.

“Alright, I’m in position,” Logan murmured, breaking the silence. “What’s next?”

You glanced at the feed, spotting the final target. “There’s a control panel just ahead. Shut it down, and we’ll have full access to the data we need.”

“On it.” There was a soft thud as he moved forward, the sound of his claws retracting. “Phantom?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks… for keepin’ me company. Makes this kinda work a little less shit.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you struggled to find your voice for a second. “...Anytime, Wolf.”

And you meant it.

---

After 5 months of The Organization searching, the base of the mutant trafficking ring was finally found. It wasn’t just you and Logan, but other’s out on the field searching, and now things were coming to a head.

Ricky had briefed everyone—the field agents and those, like you, behind the computers. Everyone was in position, and tonight, after months of planning, the mutant trafficking ring was finally going to be shut down.

You took a steadying breath, fingers hovering over your keyboard. The screens in front of you were filled with various feeds: security cameras, schematics of the building, comms channels. It was go-time, and as much as you liked to pretend you were calm, there was a knot of tension in your stomach. You knew what was riding on this mission—innocent lives, and for some reason, your thoughts kept circling back to one person in particular.

“Phantom, you there?” Logan’s voice came through your earpiece, low and steady.

“Yeah, Wolf. Right here.” You sat up a little straighter, adjusting the headset. “You good?”

“Never better.” He sounded almost amused. “How ‘bout you? Keepin’ those fingers of yours nimble?”

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “I’m ready to go. All feeds are online, and I’ve got eyes on every entrance. You’re at the west side of the building, right?”

“Yep.” He paused, and you heard the faint shuffle of boots against gravel. “What’s your status?”

“Locked and loaded,” you replied, scanning the feeds. “Looks like we’ve got a dozen guards outside, plus more scattered throughout the building. The main target’s in the central office on the second floor. You’ll need to cut through the lower levels to get there.”

“Got it. You got eyes on the others?”

You quickly toggled between the different comms channels, listening in on reports from the other teams. “Everyone’s in position. Team Alpha is covering the south, Bravo’s moving to secure the exit routes. You’re clear to start your approach.”

Logan grunted in acknowledgment, and you watched on one of the monitors as he started moving through the shadows, staying low and out of sight.

“Be careful, Wolf,” you murmured, your voice softer than you intended.

“Careful’s my middle name,” he drawled back, a hint of that signature cockiness coming through. “You just keep those pretty eyes on the feeds and tell me if someone’s gonna try and sneak up on me.”

“Always do,” you shot back, smiling despite the tension in the air.

There was a pause on his end, and then: “What’s the fastest way to the office from here?”

You glanced at the building’s layout, quickly mapping out a route in your head. “Take the staircase to your right, follow the hallway down two doors, then take a left. You should be able to bypass most of the guards that way. Just… watch for the tripwires.”

“Roger that. Stay on me, Phantom.”

“Like I’m ever not.” You kept your eyes glued to the screen as Logan moved through the facility with practiced ease. Despite the tension thrumming through your veins, there was a strange calmness in listening to his breathing over the comms, knowing you were right there with him, even if it was only in a digital sense.

“How’s it look up ahead?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“Two guards at the end of the hall,” you reported, zooming in on one of the feeds. “They’re armed, but they’re not paying attention. You should be able to take them out quietly.”

Logan didn’t respond, but you saw him slip into the corridor, moving like a shadow. A few seconds later, both guards were down, and he was back on the line. “Clear.”

“Nice work, Wolf.” You leaned forward, fingers flying over the keyboard to hack into the security system. “I’m disabling the cameras on the next floor. You should have a clear path to the office, but I’m picking up some chatter—looks like they’re getting suspicious.”

“Let ‘em get suspicious.” There was a low, dangerous edge to his voice now. “I’m ready.”

You couldn’t help but grin a little. “That makes one of us.”

“C’mon, Phantom, you know you love this shit,” he teased, but there was a warmth in his tone that made your heart skip a beat. “All that adrenaline. Gets the blood pumpin’, doesn’t it?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see you. “I’m not the one out there risking my neck. That’s your job.”

“Yeah, well… you’re doin’ a hell of a job keepin’ me from getting my ass shot off.” There was a pause, and then he added, almost softly, “Don’t know what I’d do without you, darlin’.”

You blinked at the screen, momentarily caught off guard by his words. “...Just stay focused, Wolf. I’m not pulling your ass out of this if you get cocky.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. I’m good.” His voice turned serious again as he approached the central office. “I’m at the door. How many inside?”

You quickly cycled through the cameras, counting the figures inside. “Three guards. One unarmed. That’s the target. If you move quick, you should be able to neutralize them before they call for backup.”

“Got it.” Logan’s voice was low, almost a growl. You watched as he shifted his weight, preparing to make his move. It was always a little nerve-wracking, watching him go in like this, but you trusted him. He knew what he was doing.

Your fingers danced over the keyboard, disabling the cameras in the immediate area. “I’m taking out the cameras around the office. You’re clear for entry. Make it fast, Wolf.”

“Don’t worry. I’m on it.” He paused for a beat. “How’s the rest of the team doin’?”

You glanced at the other feeds, tracking the movements of the different teams scattered throughout the building. “Team Alpha just took out the last of the perimeter guards. Bravo’s securing the exits—no one’s getting in or out without us knowing.”

“Good. Let’s end this.” There was a soft click as Logan pushed the door open, slipping inside the office with deadly precision.

The guards barely had time to react. You watched in awe as he took them down with a combination of swift strikes and quick, lethal movements. He was a blur of action, and within seconds, the only people left standing were Logan and the target—an older man who looked like he’d just seen a ghost.

“Please, don’t—” the man stammered, holding up his hands in a pathetic attempt at self-defense.

“Shut up,” Logan growled, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall. “You’re gonna answer a few questions for me.”

You leaned closer to the screen, keeping an eye on the other guards roaming the hallways. “Careful, Wolf. We don’t know if he’s got any backup on standby.”

“Yeah, I got it.” He gave the man a rough shake. “Who’s runnin’ this operation? Where’s the rest of the mutants you’ve been trafficking?”

The man sputtered, his face pale. “I—I don’t know! I just handle the logistics—transport, security—”

“Bullshit.” Logan’s claws extended with a sharp snikt, and you could hear the man’s terrified gasp even through the comms. “Try again, bub. And don’t lie to me.”

You zoomed in on the screen, checking for any signs of incoming guards. “Logan, I’m picking up movement on the lower levels. It’s not one of ours—looks like reinforcements. You need to hurry.”

“Copy that.” He leaned in closer to the man, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Last chance. Where are the mutants?”

“Storage room—basement level—cage twelve!” The man practically screamed the words, his eyes wide with fear. “Please, I swear, that’s all I know!”

“Storage room, basement level, cage twelve,” you repeated quickly, already pulling up the layout of the basement. “I’m sending the coordinates to Team Bravo now.”

“Good.” Logan released the man, who slumped to the floor, trembling. He stepped back, claws retracting. “Now sit tight. You’re gonna have some company soon.”

The man whimpered but didn’t move as Logan turned and made his way out of the office. You switched your focus back to the basement, watching as Team Bravo moved in to secure the mutants.

“They’re in position,” you reported, keeping your voice calm. “Looks like… ten, no, twelve mutants total. All of them are alive.”

“Alive, huh?” Logan’s voice softened just a fraction. “That’s somethin’, at least.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. After months of hunting down leads, false starts, and dead ends, it was finally coming together. “We did it, Wolf.”

“Not yet, we haven’t.” His tone turned serious again. “We still gotta get ‘em outta here. You got a path?”

“Working on it.” Your fingers flew over the keyboard, pulling up the building’s blueprints. “Okay, there’s an access tunnel two levels down from where you are. It leads straight to an underground parking garage. If you can get them there, we’ll have transport waiting.”

“Got it. I’ll head down now.” He paused for a moment, then added quietly, “Good work, Phantom.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at the unexpected praise. “Same to you, Wolf. Just… stay safe, okay?”

There was a soft chuckle on the other end. “Don’t you worry ‘bout me, darlin’. You just keep doin’ what you do best.”

You stayed on the line, guiding him through the lower levels as he made his way to the basement. The rest of the mission went off like clockwork—Team Bravo secured the mutants, Team Alpha kept the perimeter locked down, and Logan made sure no one got in their way.

By the time it was all over, the mutants were safe, the ring was shut down, and the remaining traffickers were either captured or taken out. It was a resounding success, and yet, as you watched Logan emerge from the building, something inside you felt… off.

“Logan?” you called out softly, your voice hesitant. “You good?”

“Yeah. Just tired.” He sounded a little rough around the edges, but that was to be expected after a mission like this. “What about you? You doin’ okay?”

You let out a soft breath, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… glad it’s over, I guess.”

“Yeah.” There was a pause, and then he added, “You did good tonight, Phantom. Real good.”

“Thanks, Wolf.” You smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

He grunted softly, the sound almost affectionate. “Bet you say that to all the guys you babysit.”

“Only the ones I like,” you teased, feeling a little bolder now that the mission was over. “But seriously… thanks for trusting me out there. I know it’s not easy.”

“Trust ain’t somethin’ I give lightly,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “But you earned it. Over and over.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you settled for a soft, “...I’m glad.”

There was another beat of silence, and then Logan’s voice came back, a little lighter. “So, when am I gettin’ that chocolate croissant?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Guess you’ll just have to swing by my bakery sometime, huh?”

“Maybe I will.” He sounded thoughtful, like he was considering it for the first time. “Soon as I figure out where the hell it is.”

“Good luck with that,” you teased, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nerves. “But if you do find it… first croissant’s on me.”

“I’ll hold you to that, darlin’.” There was a warm, teasing lilt to his voice now. “Take care, Phantom.”

“You too, Wolf.”

And with that, the line went quiet. You stared at the screen for a moment longer, a smile tugging at your lips. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a step—toward something new, something real.

Maybe one day, you’d get to see the look on Logan’s face when he finally tasted one of your croissants.

But for now, this was enough.

---

It had been a few weeks since the mutant trafficking ring was taken down, and since then, things from The Organization had been quiet. You were sure that soon, something would happen, and you’d have a new mission or cause to fight for, but for now, life was… normal. Or, as normal as things could get for you.

During the day, you focused on your bakery. The smell of freshly baked bread and sweet pastries filled the small space, the steady hum of business keeping you busy. You didn’t have to think about The Organization or anything outside of kneading dough and serving customers. It was a welcome change of pace, a grounding routine that gave you some much-needed breathing room.

But at night, when the bakery was closed and the streets outside your shop went quiet, your mind wandered back to Logan—and those long conversations over the comms. The teasing back and forth. The gruff but genuine praise. The way he’d been so protective of you, even when you were just a voice in his ear.

You leaned against the counter, wiping your hands on your apron as you glanced around your empty shop. The bell above the door jingled, and you glanced up, expecting to see one of your regulars who’d forgotten to grab something before closing.

But it wasn’t one of your regulars.

It was him.

Logan.

He stood in the doorway, his broad frame almost filling it completely. A beat of silence passed as you stared at each other, and then he stepped inside, his boots making a soft thud against the wooden floor.

“Hey, darlin’.” His voice was the same deep, rough tone you remembered, and yet hearing it in person made your heart skip a beat. He glanced around the bakery, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Figured I’d finally swing by and see if your croissants live up to the hype.”

For a moment, you couldn’t speak. He was here. Here. In your bakery, standing in front of you like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Logan?” You blinked, trying to wrap your mind around it. “How—how did you find me?”

He shrugged like it was nothing, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Did a little diggin’. Asked around. Turns out you’re not as good at hiding as you think.”

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, a mix of surprise and… something else. “And you just—decided to show up out of nowhere?”

“Thought you could use some company,” he replied easily, but there was a seriousness in his gaze that told you this wasn’t just a casual visit. “Been too quiet lately. I don’t do quiet well.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Neither can I,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he glanced at the display case filled with pastries. “But since I am… you gonna give me that croissant, or what?”

The corner of your mouth lifted, and you reached behind the counter, pulling out a fresh chocolate croissant. You placed it on a small plate, sliding it across to him. “First one’s on the house, remember?”

Logan took the plate, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest of moments. A spark shot through you, but you quickly pulled your hand back, pretending like it hadn’t happened.

He lifted the croissant, inspecting it with a critical eye before taking a bite. You watched, holding your breath as he chewed thoughtfully. Then, he swallowed and nodded.

“Not bad, Phantom. Not bad at all.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, a smile breaking out on your face. “Just ‘not bad?’ I think I’m a little insulted.”

He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Okay, fine. It’s good. Real good.” He took another bite, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t ya?”

“I could say the same about you.” You leaned against the counter, studying him. In the soft light of the bakery, he looked a little more relaxed, less guarded. There was still that roughness to him, but there was something else, too—a quiet sort of contentment. “So, what’s the real reason you’re here, Logan?”

He raised an eyebrow, finishing off the croissant before setting the plate down. “What, a guy can’t visit his favorite hacker?”

“Nice try.” You gave him a look, crossing your arms. “But I know you better than that.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe I just wanted to see for myself that you’re okay. That this place is real. That you’re… real.”

You felt something tighten in your chest, your gaze softening. “I’m real, Logan. You know that.”

“Yeah.” He looked around again, as if trying to memorize every detail of your little shop. “But it’s different, seein’ it with my own eyes.”

There was a weight to his words, a sincerity that made your heart ache a little. You’d spent so many nights talking to him, listening to his voice, getting to know him in a way that felt almost… intimate. And now he was here, standing in front of you, and it felt like a dream.

“Do you—” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Do you want to stay for a bit? I’ve got coffee. Or tea, if that’s more your style.”

Logan’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Coffee sounds good.”

You turned to make a fresh pot, your hands moving on autopilot as your mind raced. What did this mean? Why now? You’d thought maybe, someday, you’d meet Logan in person, but you hadn’t expected it to be like this—so sudden, so… normal.

“So,” Logan drawled, leaning against the counter as he watched you, “what’s next for you? Gonna hang up your hacker hat and just focus on bakin’?”

You glanced over your shoulder, giving him a wry smile. “You think I could actually stay out of trouble for long?”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Nah. Don’t think you’re cut out for the quiet life, darlin’.”

“Guess we have that in common, huh?” You poured the coffee, sliding a mug over to him. “But for now… I’m taking a little break. I think I’ve earned it.”

“Yeah, you have.” He took the mug, his fingers brushing against yours again. This time, neither of you pulled away. “So… what’s the plan now? Just you and the bakery?”

“For now.” You shrugged, looking around the shop. “It’s nice. Calming, even. Keeps me grounded.”

Logan studied you for a long moment, his gaze intent. “You know, I never pictured you like this. With flour on your apron and—what’s that?” He reached out, brushing his thumb lightly against your cheek. “Frostin’ on your face?”

You froze at the contact, your breath catching in your throat. His touch was surprisingly gentle, the roughness of his thumb contrasting with the softness of your skin. You stared at him, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy of the moment.

“I—uh—” You cleared your throat, feeling your face heat up. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Hmm.” His thumb lingered for a heartbeat longer, then he pulled back, his expression softening. “Guess it suits you.”

You swallowed, trying to steady your racing heart. “What about you? What’s next for the great Wolverine? Gonna go back to the X-Men?”

Logan chuckled, leaning back slightly as he sipped his coffee. “Who said I ever left? Maybe I was doin’ this as my side job.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a playful look. “Oh, so the big bad Wolverine has a side hustle now? Should I be worried you’re going to start making croissants too?”

He smirked. “Nah, I’ll leave the bakin’ to you. But maybe I’ll stick around, see how things go.” His eyes held yours, that familiar teasing edge mixed with something else—a quiet intensity.

“Stick around?” you asked, not entirely sure where he was going with this. “In New York? Thought you weren’t a fan of big cities.”

Logan shrugged, his gaze flicking around your cozy bakery again. “It grows on ya. Plus, I got reasons to hang around now.”

The way he said it, so casual but pointed, made your heart skip a beat. “Reasons, huh?”

He leaned forward, setting his mug down on the counter. “Yeah, Phantom. You think I spent all those nights listenin’ to you talk, gettin’ to know you, just to go back to business as usual?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the directness of his words. You tried to bring things back to normal, to calm your racing heart, but perhaps you only made it worse with his response. “Y- you don’t have to call me that, you know? Or- anymore, at least.”

Logan’s eyes locked onto yours, a spark of curiosity flickering in his gaze. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the counter. “Oh yeah? So, what should I call ya?”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his question. It was such a simple thing—your real name. Something you’d kept hidden, not out of fear, but because keeping a wall between your real life and Phantom had made things… easier. Safer, even. But you felt safe with him standing in front of you, even if it was the first time meeting face to face.

“Y/N.” You finally said, quietly with a small smile.

Logan’s eyes softened, something shifting in his expression as he repeated your name—almost testing it out. “Y/N, huh? Suits you.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the warmth spreading through your chest. “Figured it was time to be on a first-name basis, Wolf.”

His lips twitched into a smirk at the nickname. “Wolf,” he repeated, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. “You’ve been callin’ me that for months. Thought you’d drop it once I was standin’ right in front of ya.”

“Why would I do that?” you shot back, your smile growing a little more confident. “It suits you, Wolf.”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Fair enough.” He leaned back, his gaze never leaving yours. “Guess I’ll stick with ‘Phantom’ for old times’ sake.”

“‘Y/N’ is fine,” you said softly. “I think we’re past codenames.”

He nodded slowly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Y/N, then.” The way he said it—slow and deliberate—made your heart flutter. There was something so personal about it, so… intimate. You’d spent so long hiding behind ‘Phantom’ that hearing your real name in his voice felt almost surreal.

You glanced down at the counter, clearing your throat to break the tension. “So,” you said slowly, a hint of mischief creeping into your tone, “now that you’ve tried my croissants, what’s next on the list? Gonna critique my muffins too?”

Logan’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting. “Oh, I’m definitely stickin’ around long enough to try everything on that menu, darlin’. Gotta make sure it’s all up to snuff.”

“Uh-huh. Just don’t expect me to bake for you every day,” you teased, but there was a warmth in your voice that you couldn’t quite hide.

“I dunno,” he drawled, leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone. “Kinda like the idea of you makin’ me breakfast.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your throat. You chuckled back at him, putting the towel in your hand over your shoulder, “yeah? Bet you say that to all the women you meet.”

Logan’s smirk grew, the corner of his mouth lifting in that way you’d come to recognize as trouble. “You think I go around findin’ bakeries just to get breakfast from pretty hackers?”

“Pretty hackers?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t know I was your type, Wolf.”

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair with an easy confidence. “You’re my type if you keep makin’ croissants like that.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Nice recovery.”

There was a beat of silence, and Logan’s smirk softened, replaced by a more thoughtful look. His eyes swept around the shop again, taking in the cozy space as if trying to understand something deeper about it—about you.

“This place,” he said quietly, breaking the silence. “It’s yours, huh?”

“Yeah,” you replied, a touch of pride in your voice. “Bought it a couple of years ago. Did most of the renovations myself. Not the hacking kind, though.”

Logan nodded, his gaze lingering on the shelves lined with baked goods and the flour-dusted counter. “Figured you’d be in some high-tech lab or somethin’. Not… this.”

You smiled, glancing around your bakery. “What? Don’t think I can bake and hack at the same time?”

“Nah, it’s not that.” He paused, his brow furrowing slightly as if he were searching for the right words. “Guess I just never thought about what your life looked like when you weren’t on a mission.”

“Well,” you said softly, meeting his eyes. “This is it. Flour, sugar, and a whole lot of early mornings.”

Logan tilted his head, studying you like he was seeing a whole new side of you. “It suits ya.”

You shrugged, feeling a bit exposed under his gaze. “It’s not as exciting as fighting bad guys, but… it’s mine.”

“Doesn’t have to be exciting all the time,” he murmured. His voice was quieter now, more serious, and it made you pause. “Sometimes… it’s the quiet stuff that matters.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, your heart doing that annoying fluttering thing it did whenever he got unexpectedly sincere. “Yeah, well, quiet doesn’t seem to be your style, Logan.”

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. “Yeah, guess not. But maybe I’m workin’ on that.”

You gave him a playful smirk. “You? Working on ‘quiet’? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He leaned forward, his arms resting on the counter as he looked at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Maybe you’ll see it sooner than you think.”

Your teasing smile faltered slightly, your heartbeat picking up again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Logan held your gaze for a long moment, something unspoken hanging in the air between you. “Means I’m stickin’ around, Y/N. If you’re okay with that.”

Your breath caught at the way he said your name—your real name, not Phantom. There was a weight to it, like he wasn’t just talking about the bakery or the city. He was talking about you.

“Logan,” you started, your voice a little shaky as you tried to keep it light, “are you saying you want to be a regular customer?”

He smirked, but the seriousness in his eyes didn’t fade. “Somethin’ like that. Thought maybe I’d get to know the person behind the croissants… and the computer screens.”

Your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but smile, even though you felt a little breathless. “Well, considering you just showed up without a warning, I’d say you’re off to a good start.”

Logan’s smirk widened. “Always liked makin’ an entrance.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, shaking your head, “next time, maybe give a girl a little heads-up.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he teased, though his voice had softened.

You didn’t have a snappy comeback for that, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The bakery felt smaller, quieter, like the world outside had paused, leaving just the two of you in this little bubble. You’d known him for months, heard his voice in your ear during some of the craziest situations, but this—standing here in the same room, with him right there—felt different. Real.

“So,” you said after a beat, your voice a little quieter now, “what’s the plan? You just gonna hang out in New York for a while? Or…?”

Logan shrugged, but there was something thoughtful in his expression. “Dunno. Figure I’ll stick around, see how things play out. Been on the move too long. Might be time to slow down a bit.”

“Slow down?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “You?”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t sound like me, does it?”

You smiled, leaning against the counter. “Well, if you’re serious about sticking around, you’d better be ready for a lot of early mornings.”

Logan’s gaze flicked to the flour on your apron and the slight mess on the counter. “Early mornings, huh? Guess I can handle that. Long as there’s coffee.”

You laughed softly, feeling that familiar warmth in your chest again. “I think I can manage that.”

There was another pause, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that felt… nice. Like neither of you were in a rush to fill the space with words.

Finally, Logan straightened up, glancing toward the door. “Guess I’ll let ya get back to it. Don’t wanna keep you too long.”

You felt a flicker of disappointment, but you quickly pushed it down, giving him a smile instead. “You’re always welcome, you know. Next time, I’ll save you a muffin.”

Logan’s smirk returned, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ll hold you to that, darlin’.”

He took a step toward the door, but then he paused, glancing back at you. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat at the way he said your name again.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he said softly, his gaze holding yours for just a moment longer before he turned and walked out the door, the bell above it jingling softly in his wake.

You stood there for a long moment, staring at the door long after he was gone, your heart still racing.

---

Logan’s unexpected visit left you in a whirlwind. For the next few days, it was hard to focus on the usual routines of the bakery. Each time the bell over the door chimed, your heart leapt a little, thinking maybe, just maybe, it’d be him again. But Logan didn’t show, and you tried to remind yourself not to overthink it. He was just… being Logan. Coming and going as he pleased, without a word or explanation.

But then, one evening, just as you were flipping the Open sign to Closed, you noticed something slipped under the door—a folded piece of paper with your name scrawled across it in a familiar, rugged handwriting.

You picked it up, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, and opened it.

Got a place in mind. Be ready at 7. —W

No address. No other details. Just a time and a cryptic note.

You found yourself smiling despite your confusion. Of course, he’d pull something like this. He couldn’t just ask you to dinner like a normal person—he had to be all mysterious about it. But then again, it was part of his charm.

The day passed in a blur. By the time you were getting ready, nerves had settled in. What exactly did Logan mean by ‘got a place in mind’? Was this a date? Just… friends hanging out?

You pushed the thoughts away and focused on getting dressed. Something casual, but not too casual. Comfortable, but still showing you’d put in some effort. You settled on a pair of well-fitting jeans and a soft sweater that was flattering but not over-the-top.

Right at 7, there was a soft knock on your door. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and opened it.

Logan stood there, looking the same as always and yet… different. Maybe it was the way he’d traded his usual jacket for a dark button-down, or the fact that he looked a bit unsure himself, his gaze flicking over you in silent appraisal before settling on your eyes.

“You look good,” he said, his voice gruff, but there was an honesty in his tone that made your cheeks warm.

“Not bad yourself, Wolf,” you replied, earning a small, almost shy smile from him.

“Ready?” he asked, holding out his hand.

“Ready,” you confirmed, and you stepped outside, locking the door behind you.

---

Logan had borrowed a bike—one of those big, heavy motorcycles that roared to life when he turned the ignition. He tossed you a helmet, then helped you onto the back. Your hands found their way around his waist, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just that—your arms around him, the rumble of the engine beneath you, and the feel of his solid form against you.

“Hold on tight, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and rough in a way that made you shiver.

The ride through the city was exhilarating, the cool night air whipping past you as Logan navigated the streets with ease. You had no idea where he was taking you, but you trusted him. You’d always trusted him.

Finally, he pulled up to a secluded spot along the East River, away from the usual tourist traps and bustling crowds. You could see the lights of the city skyline reflected in the water, the soft sounds of the river lapping at the shore creating a serene backdrop. There was a small wooden table set up nearby, with a blanket laid out and a picnic basket resting on top of it.

You blinked in surprise, glancing between the setup and Logan. “Did… did you do this?”

Logan rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “Yeah, well. Figured we’ve had enough high-stakes meetin’s. Thought you deserved somethin’ different.”

Your heart melted a little at that. He’d gone through the trouble of planning something just for you—a quiet evening, just the two of you, away from the chaos of missions and comms.

“It’s perfect,” you said softly, meeting his eyes.

He gave a small nod, visibly relieved by your reaction. “Good. Now c’mon, let’s eat before it gets too cold.”

The two of you settled down at the table, and you couldn’t help but smile as Logan unpacked the basket. It was mostly simple stuff—sandwiches, fruit, a bottle of wine—but there was an almost endearing quality to it, like he’d put in effort but hadn’t tried to overdo it.

“Didn’t know what you liked, so I kinda… winged it,” he admitted, glancing at you almost nervously.

“It’s perfect,” you repeated, smiling at him. “And honestly? I’m just happy you’re here.”

Logan’s gaze softened, his eyes lingering on you in that way that made your stomach flip. “Yeah. Me too.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. You talked about everything and nothing—the bakery, old missions, even random bits about your lives that had never come up before. He was surprisingly open, and you found yourself sharing more than you usually would, the relaxed atmosphere making it easy to let your guard down.

As the evening went on, you found yourself inching closer to him. At some point, the two of you ended up side by side on the blanket, the picnic basket forgotten as you stared out at the lights reflecting on the water.

There was a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled. You glanced over at Logan, feeling that familiar flutter in your chest. He was looking at you with an expression that was hard to read—soft, almost contemplative.

“What?” you asked softly, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“Just thinkin’,” he murmured, his voice low and rumbling. “You’re even prettier in person, you know that?”

You felt your face heat up, and you looked away, letting out a soft laugh. “Logan—”

“I mean it,” he interrupted gently, reaching out to brush your cheek. His touch was light, tentative, like he wasn’t quite sure if it was okay. “Been drivin’ myself crazy, wonderin’ what you’d look like. But seein’ you now… Hell, Y/N, I don’t think I did you justice.”

Your breath caught at the way he said your name, his gaze intense and unwavering. There was something raw and honest in his expression, like he was laying himself bare in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Logan…” you whispered, the words dying on your lips as he leaned in, his face inches from yours.

“I shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he murmured, his voice low and almost regretful. But he didn’t move away. If anything, he shifted closer, his breath brushing against your skin. “But I’ve been wantin’ to since the moment I heard your voice.”

Your heart was pounding, every nerve in your body alive with anticipation. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered, your own voice trembling.

Logan’s gaze flicked down to your lips, and for a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze. Then, slowly—like he was giving you every chance to pull away—he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most tentative of kisses.

It was gentle at first, like he was testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull back—when you leaned in, your fingers tangling in the front of his shirt—something seemed to break. He deepened the kiss, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

The kiss was everything you hadn’t known you’d been waiting for—slow and sweet, but with an underlying intensity that left you breathless. You melted into him, the world around you fading away until there was nothing left but the feel of his lips on yours and the warmth of his hand against your cheek.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you were both breathing hard, your hearts racing in sync.

“Damn, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “Didn’t think it’d feel like that.”

You laughed softly, your own voice a little shaky. “Yeah. Me neither.”

Logan smiled—a real, genuine smile that made your heart ache. “Think we should do it again?”

You grinned up at him, feeling lighter than you had in ages. “Yeah, Wolf. I think we should.”

[mosaickiwi]

Home Away From

I love hopeless agony almost as much as tooth rotting fluff??

Post-kidnapping Angel adjusting (badly) to the new normal.

might do a part 2 where it gets even worse idk ← my last words before i get thrown out of the plane

Kidnapping, imprisonment, codependency, etc.

proceed with caution

Eyes straight forward, you had to keep yourself occupied fiddling with the edge of a couch cushion. Every single one had a few loose threads from how often you worried away at them. 

Twelve… thirteen… fourteen neatly aligned book spines on the lowest shelf behind the dark haired man kneeling in front of you. A full, hardcover collection of your favorite webcomic, each book signed and dedicated to you. Maybe you'd force yourself to read them all again. For the third time since your arrival.

"Angel."

It was hard to keep track of how long you'd been here—in this house far removed from Corland Bay, with everything you ever wanted in a forever home. All those wild, fantasy-ridden dreams you joked about with Ren, and then [REDACTED], were true now.

And yet your supposed fiancé carried you over the threshold of that forever home kicking and screaming. 

"Still not talking?"

His hand reached for yours, fingers gently lacing between your own before you eventually pulled away. You saw their real reaction in the corner of your vision. By now, you knew him as obsessively as he knew you—there wasn't much he could hide anymore. The pain in his blue eyes lingered for too long this time.

It hurt. You hated to see that look on his face. But you hated being trapped here so much more than that. Why couldn't he understand?

Realistically, a silent treatment would get you nowhere. A few hours had turned to days, then weeks, and he was still soft-spoken and doting towards you. There was hardly a difference in the man you proposed to, and the one that bolted the front door shut from the outside on the few occasions they left for supplies.

You were too used to domestic life, too docile compared to that first day—sometimes you'd lose yourself and forget you were a prisoner. All your old hobbies still occupied your days while he sat nearby, and it just felt natural to include the only person you ever saw. To call his name and read a passage from a book aloud for him to laugh, or casually scoot closer to him for warmth during a movie.

Those moments when you forgot felt like they could slot in between all your old memories with ease.

"I'm sorry, love. I only wanted t'keep you safe," he whispered.

His breath almost tickled your legs, followed by the feel of his forehead resting against them. The urge to brush a hand through their hair—an innocent gesture you did at least daily back home—hurt just as much to ignore.

Were it not for their words of apology, even now could've been another memory. Who could fault you for falling into habits of comfort with the one who lived for you, and you alone?

The silent treatment was the best you could do.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Tired and disoriented, you woke up alone in your bedroom. The pink haired plushie you normally cuddled had disappeared somewhere, probably tossed to a corner of the room in your fitful sleep. Your usual replacement for a space heater was nowhere to be found, either.

Had he stayed up late? You called their name. "Ren?"

A muted commotion in the hallway outside, then the door creaked open. "Angel?" your beloved hacker answered back cautiously.

"Are you coming to bed?"

There was no response for a long moment. But soon enough, his familiar footsteps sounded against the floor.

You sat up and pulled the blanket to the side for them. As he settled in, you cuddled close, resting one arm over their chest while your head laid in its rightful place atop his shoulder. You managed to lean up and find their lips for a quick kiss before closing your eyes.

Though you couldn't see his face, you imagined the blush that painted his cheeks at every piece of affection you gave. With the thought fresh in your mind, you drifted off.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Hours later you woke again, your rest this time far more peaceful in their embrace. A pitiful, lazy groan left you as you stretched, then opened your eyes to greet your partner.

[REDACTED] was silently looking down at you, propped up on one arm. 

You reached up to cup his cheek and smiled at him. He leaned into your touch like always, but their usual loving gaze was laced with hesitation. As if waiting for something. Anxious of what could bother him, your hand followed the line of his jaw down to their neck, past the tattooed heart of your name, and settled on a piece of jewelry. 

Was that correct? It felt off. A long moment passed as you fiddled with it, trying to figure out what was so out of place about that silver chain, until it hit you.

The golden ring was back on his necklace, instead of on your finger where it belonged. Where it used to belong.

Weeks, or maybe even months ago, when they kept you in a careful hold while locking the bedroom door behind them—you'd thrown that ring in his face the second he let you go. 

For all the scratches and bite marks you'd put on his arm, tearing at skin that was already long scarred, he hadn't shown a hint of worry. Not until they bent down to get the ring that hit their chest and clattered to the floor.

It was the same worried face you saw now.

Your hand stilled, and before you could even whisper the words you wanted to yell, he slipped from the bed to give you space. The door clicked shut behind them to trap you in with your thoughts.

How could you be so stupid? Weak? They didn't have to try at all to wear you down; you did it all on your own. He tore you away from friends and family, yet here you were, forgetting yourself to play house with him. Then you took it a step further and let him sleep in your bed.

Nails dug into the pillow under your head, but instead of throwing it you squeezed it tight to your chest. You bit your lip to hold back the tears, glaring down at the empty spot on your ring finger that had only now begun to match the skin around it.

Another foolish dream to pile with all the others.

As much as you wanted to hope they would see reason one day and bring you back home to make things right—a thought far past irrational by now—you had to mourn the life taken from you.

You knew them, you knew them. Always seeking your favor so quickly that any argument quelled before it had a chance to begin, but stubborn when he felt it necessary.

If the first answer was a no… the next one and the next one wouldn't change. You should've accepted it the second he locked the door.

Ren was the only person you'd ever see again.

[rcaptivated]

The way RC has been handling the security situation has really affected my trust in them, to the point where I'm reconsidering spending my own money on the app. Using something as important as the UID as a code to add friends was a huge mistake from the start, especially since one of its main functions is as a login method—something the hackers figured out. This lack of foresight is concerning, and it makes me wonder whether they didn’t realize the risk, or if the update was already delayed for so long that they rushed it out.

The hacked accounts were talked about for days on Telegram, yet it took so long for RC to officially acknowledge the security issue for players who were unaware or don’t use Telegram. Every day they didn’t put out an official statement put players at risk.

Reddit and Telegram were full of card swaps between players, with many not knowing that every time they gave someone their UID, they were at risk of having their accounts compromised, cards broken, slots deleted, and accounts stolen. I don’t even want to get into how the main sub moderators were deleting comments about it.

The security update was just another example of poor foresight from the company. If a hacker gained access to an account after the update, before the original user, they could easily block the original user from accessing their own account. Now what? The update only protects people whose accounts haven’t been stolen, not those who already have been. Their accounts are probably already sold to someone else, meaning all their time, effort, and money is gone. After the breach, what kind of support were affected users receiving? If the company failed to protect their users during the incident, it’s equally concerning if they didn’t provide the necessary assistance to victims afterward. Whether it’s restoring compromised accounts, offering compensation, or simply offering reassurance, it’s crucial for users to feel supported

If hackers managed to steal accounts once, they’ll likely look for another way. It’s just a matter of time.

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

I don’t know why, but I’m feeling oddly nostalgic for the good ole days when “Agents of SHIELD” was still premiering. I mean, today, it has a fairly solid reputation as a sci-fi action superhero show. But if you only started watching after the show ended, you have no idea just how much drama this show created. There’s like…whole arcs of drama with AOS. I actually kinda miss the drama, it was lowkey fun to follow.

Off the top of my head, there was the:

* “1st season is complete garbage, why is this even a thing” arc.

* “Stand With Ward” arc. Just…Grant Ward in general.

* “Jemma has a space boyfriend/the creators ruined Fitzsimmons” arc.

* “10 PM time slot is gonna kill this show” arc.

* “Fandom hates that Fitz has a Nazi Doctor alter ego” arc

* “Is this show even canon after season 5” arc

* “This show wants to be X-Men so bad with the Inhuman persecution” arc

* “Did the show blow its budget? Where are the lights?” arc (subplot: Ghost Rider really ate up the budget, that’s why we could only afford Gabriel Luna for 9 out of 22 episodes)

* “Season 6 was really fucking weird” arc

* “Fuck this show for killing Fitz. Wait, I forgot he’s technically not completely dead” arc.

* “Fuck this show for teasing which main member of the team will die in the S3 finale” arc (side note: the drama from this was milked so much that I remember Marvel actually made a poll in which you got to vote who you think was gonna die. Lincoln won the poll, followed by Fitz.)

* “I hate how the show just forgot that Daisy used to be Skye the hacker. It’s like they completely erased Skye from the canon in favor of the comic character. She doesn’t feel like the same character anymore.” arc (yes, this was an actual complaint I saw from people at the end of season 2/the beginning of season 3)

Ah…good times, good times. Marvel TV show drama nowadays feels much less interesting in my opinion. AOS was a drama goldmine.

[duckpasta-kamonabe]

Much to people's fear, I played the notorious new kaneko's game

(dat shining carpet)

And surprisingly, It was alright. (Aside from the AIslop)

I can't read japanese, but the game was simplistic enough. Put a card on the slots to block damage, or attack the enemy. Every cards has their own attack+defend stats and unique effects and being a roguelike, you'll need to collect the right cards to defeat the bosses and ascend. It was surprisingly challenging

obviously, one element that held it back was the AI

Kaneko's work isn't that fully washed yet. While it's not of a high output compared to his glory days of maken X, persona 2, soul hackers, nocturne and whatsoever. Some demons like Aillen are nice.

The problem with the AI, ethics aside (tho they stated that they used kaneko's own works as the pool, no other copyrighted stuff), was art cohesion. And this is causing some inability to form attachment

In a monster collecting game (or anything that's focused on creatures ensemble instead of human cast), obviously they'll get more priority in term of character designs so you'll feel more attached to them. The focus on monsters are the reason why many monster hunter clones fails to take off (Maybe god eater is the exception)

It's coz they focus too much on multiplayer experience, but never lets you care about the monsters beyond "Beat this guy and get materials to craft a better gear to beat a more stronger guy, repeat ad infinitum"

The problem with the AI generated content in the game was, the designs are so unmemorable and lacked the "iconic" part.

And worse of all, since there's demon cards I liked to use because of its usefulness and personal strategy, they fall flat into unmemorable territory because of its uninspired "art style and design" (due to AI)

"why are demons A looked like this? Why does monster B looked like this?" In religion. Most Gods gets attributed to certain objects.

When you think of a blue throat guy with snakes on his body, matted hair and his iconic trishula, it's obviously Shiva. Persephone with pomegranates, Poseidon with his trident, etc. etc.

Character designs are like that, simply there's an icon/fashion/attributes to represent their personality and role.

But AI are sadly biased to surface levels interpretation, which makes an uninspired forgettable depiction. (Usually they'll be remembered more for its coombait/COOL shock factor but that's another story)

it also looked out of place compared to kaneko's actual design, and hilariously enough, kaneko seemed to be more honest that these AIs are fake(?) but sadly inevitable.

Most (AA+) game studios these days probably secretly used AI in their backrooms. Once a staff who worked at southeast asian branch of bamco told me on how AI is rather widespread in bigger industries and human artists are only there to clean the AI's mess to hide its involvement

With art style being pigeonholed to hyperreal super detailed or flat anime with softer details (compared to 90s with stylized anatomy and stronger shading), it seems to be more easier for AI to seep through the cracks

---

Had this game ditch the AI and opt for collaboration, maybe it'll be more memorable compared to just utilizing AIslop, but that means colopl needs to pay more freelancers, and for obvious fucking reasons, studios really hates paying their artists.

Mobage/Gachas are known to have large roster of character designer anyways. Even niche ones like housamo/GYEE could still get one, why not Tsukuyomi?

I know there's still art direction problem, but humans are more easy to keep track of compared to AI's randomness (and limited pool since they didn't use copyrighted materials)

Plus a collab would've be cool. Imagine a return of Araki ft. Kaneko again

...Problem is, we know there's a community of artist to select for said collab. FGO/XC2 usually employs popular big name game artists (sometimes hentie ones), housamo/GYEE obviously selects from gay (men) media pool. But is there a community of people who loves folklore/myth/monster design...?

---

Another lost chance is to implement tarot card / card rider imagery to a game where cards are the main gimmick

I know personastans are gonna seethe at the game "IT'S PLAGIARISM!111" (wouldn't that make it self plagiarism?) since they thought persona 5 invented jazz and japan before izanami and izanagi went down to earth.

Card rider imagery would rather be funny since Tsukuyomi's bent towards tokusatsu aesthetic. (A big irony when you think how even more tokusatsu'd SMT was post IV with its super sentai odin and fang joker zeus) , but it'll be more fitting

There's so much missed opportunity to implement these aesthetic, which sucks since the game is rather well made (aside from the AI, which from my point of view. Feels more of a gimmick)

I know they inserted AI because it fits the random nature of roguelike, but I wish there's more better option than using AI to generate unmemorable slop

Well, at least Kaneko was more aware. This is a contrast to bunch of normie non artist bigwigs that worships AI like it's godjesus creator of mankind.

Sadly, this game feels more like a "Featuring Kaneko from the SMT series!" compared to a full fledged "Kaneko's game" like his past works

I'd say it's more of the industry problem opposed to Kaneko's problem. If you designed 600+ demons and humans, defined the image of a small company, and even made jack frost, but got no royalty from it. Wouldn't you be just pissed?

Maybe we're just too harsh on artists, man. Blame the higher ups for stirring horizontal conflict because no matter how much talent an artist have in their field, it's ALWAYS those higher up with privilege, money and higher position on their nameplates that always get the final say over everything, regardless if it's good or slop

It does make me wonder how Kaneko would be if he's faring better at freelance, at least Yoshitaka Amano returns to draw arts for new final fantasy games and still exhibits his works or freelancing

but KNK? zamn :(

--

Sauce :

Interview 1

Interview 2

[deltasaviorthemaker]

I’m starting commissions!!

Hey there everyone! I’m starting commissions as a way to get money to buy whatever the fuck I want! You can DM me here or Discord (@krissy_boy15) to as for a commission! On Discord, please inform me that your reasoning for messaging me is for a commission unless I know you, or I’ll assume you are a hacker or someone after me. When I am working on Deltasavior comic pages or promo content, it may take a few extra minutes to get your drawing in since Deltasavior is my priority.

Please have a visual reference of your character(s)! Once the drawing is done, I will send you a PNG image. YOU MUST PAY UP FRONT USING VENMO ONLY!!! PayPal isn’t user friendly to me. Venmo: @DSTheMaker

I will only take three at a time! Once one slot is open, I need a 1 day grace period before I start yours to prevent burnout. I will also update you on the progress along the way.

PRICES

- Headshot = $5

- Bust up = $8

- Hips up = $10

- Full body = $15

- Extra limbs/wings: $10 per set

——————————————

- Sketch = $5

- Lineart = $10

- Color = $20

- Shade = $30

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

March 2, 2025

Heather Cox Richardson

Mar 03, 2025

On February 28, the same day that President Donald Trump and Vice President J.D. Vance took the side of Russian president Vladimir Putin against Ukraine president Volodymyr Zelensky in the Oval Office, Martin Matishak of The Record, a cybersecurity news publication, broke the story that Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth has ordered U.S. Cyber Command to stop all planning against Russia, including offensive digital actions.

Both the scope of the directive and its duration are unclear.

On Face the Nation this morning, Representative Mike Turner (R-OH), a strong supporter of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) and Ukraine, contradicted that information. “Considering what I know, what Russia is currently doing against the United States, that would I’m certain not be an accurate statement of the current status of the United States operations,” he said. Well respected on both sides of the aisle, Turner was in line to be the chair of the House Intelligence Committee in this Congress until House speaker Mike Johnson (R-LA) removed him from that slot and from the intelligence committee altogether.

And yet, as Stephanie Kirchgaessner of The Guardian notes, the Trump administration has made clear that it no longer sees Russia as a cybersecurity threat. Last week, at a United Nations working group on cybersecurity, representatives from the European Union and the United Kingdom highlighted threats from Russia, while Liesyl Franz, the State Department’s deputy assistant secretary for international cybersecurity, did not mention Russia, saying the U.S. was concerned about threats from China and Iran.

Kirchgaessner also noted that under Trump, the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency (CISA), which monitors cyberthreats against critical infrastructure, has set new priorities. Although Russian threats, especially those against U.S. election systems, were a top priority for the agency in the past, a source told Kirchgaessner that analysts were told not to follow or report on Russian threats.

“Russia and China are our biggest adversaries,” the source told Kirchgaessner. “With all the cuts being made to different agencies, a lot of cybersecurity personnel have been fired. Our systems are not going to be protected and our adversaries know this.” “People are saying Russia is winning,” the source said. “Putin is on the inside now.”

Another source noted that “There are dozens of discrete Russia state-sponsored hacker teams dedicated to either producing damage to US government, infrastructure and commercial interests or conducting information theft with a key goal of maintaining persistent access to computer systems.” “Russia is at least on par with China as the most significant cyber threat, the person added. Under those circumstances, the source said, ceasing to follow and report Russian threats is “truly shocking.”

Trump’s outburst in the Oval Office on Friday confirmed that Putin has been his partner in politics since at least 2016. “Putin went through a hell of a lot with me,” Trump said. “He went through a phony witch hunt where they used him and Russia… Russia, Russia, Russia—you ever hear of that deal?—that was a phony Hunter Biden, Joe Biden, scam. Hillary Clinton, shifty Adam Schiff, it was a Democrat scam. And he had to go through that. And he did go through it, and we didn’t end up in a war. And he went through it. He was accused of all that stuff. He had nothing to do with it. It came out of Hunter Biden’s bathroom.”

Putin went through a hell of a lot with Trump? It was an odd statement from a U.S. president, whose loyalty is supposed to be dedicated to the Constitution and the American people.

Trump has made dismissing as a hoax what he calls “Russia, Russia, Russia” central to his political narrative. But Russian operatives did, in fact, work to elect him in 2016. A 2020 report from the Republican-dominated Senate Intelligence Committee confirmed that Putin ordered hacks of Democratic computer networks, and at two crucial moments WikiLeaks, which the Senate committee concluded was allied with the Russians, dumped illegally obtained emails that were intended to hurt the candidacy of Democratic candidate Hillary Clinton. Trump openly called for Russia to hack Clinton’s emails.

Russian operatives also flooded social media with disinformation, not necessarily explicitly endorsing Trump, but spreading lies about Clinton to depress Democratic turnout, or to rile up those on the right by falsely claiming that Democrats intended to ban the Pledge of Allegiance, for example. The goal of the propaganda was not simply to elect Trump. It was to pit the far ends of the political spectrum against the middle, tearing the nation apart.

Fake accounts on Twitter, YouTube, Instagram, and Facebook drove wedges between Americans over issues of race, immigration, and gun rights. Craig Timberg and Tony Romm of the Washington Post reported in 2018 that Facebook officials told Congress that the Russian campaign reached 126 million people on Facebook and 20 million on Instagram.

That effort was not a one-shot deal: Russians worked to influence the 2020 presidential election, too. In 2021 the Office of the Director of National Intelligence concluded that Putin “authorized, and a range of Russian government organizations conducted, influence operations aimed at denigrating President [Joe] Biden’s candidacy and the Democratic Party, supporting former President Trump, undermining public confidence in the electoral process, and exacerbating sociopolitical division in the US.” But “[u]nlike in 2016,” the report said, “we did not see persistent Russian cyber efforts to gain access to election infrastructure.”

Moscow used “proxies linked to Russian intelligence to push influence narratives—including misleading or unsubstantiated allegations against President Biden—to US media organizations, US officials, and prominent US individuals, including some close to former President Trump and his administration,” the Office of the Director of National Intelligence concluded.

In October 2024, Matthew Olsen, head of the Justice Department’s National Security Division, warned in an interview with CBS News that Russia was bombarding voters with propaganda to divide Americans before that year’s election, as well. Operatives were not just posting fake stories and replying to posts, but were also using AI to manufacture fake videos and laundering Russian talking points through social media influencers. Just a month before, news had broken that Russia was funding Tenet Media, a company that hired right-wing personalities Tim Pool, Dave Rubin, Benny Johnson, Lauren Southern, Tayler Hansen, and Matt Christiansen, who repeated Russian talking points.

Now back in office, Trump and MAGA loyalists say that efforts to stop disinformation undermine their right to free speech. Project 2025, the extremist blueprint for the second Trump administration, denied that Russia had interfered in the 2016 election—calling it “a Clinton campaign dirty trick”—and called for ending government efforts to stop disinformation with “utmost urgency.” “The federal government cannot be the arbiter of truth,” it said.

On February 20, Steven Lee Myers, Julian E. Barnes, and Sheera Frenkel of the New York Times reported that the Trump administration is firing or reassigning officials at the FBI and CISA who had worked on protecting elections. That includes those trying to stop foreign propaganda and disinformation and those combating cyberattacks and attempts to disrupt voting systems.

Independent journalist Marisa Kabas broke the story that two members of the “Department of Government Efficiency” are now installed at CISA: Edward Coristine, a 19-year-old known as “Big Balls,” and Kyle Schutt, a 38-year-old software engineer. Kim Zetter of Wired reported that since 2018, CISA has “helped state and local election offices around the country assess vulnerabilities in their networks and help secure them.”

During the 2024 campaign, Trump said repeatedly that he would end the war in Ukraine. Shortly after the election, a newspaper reporter asked Nikolai Patrushev, who is close to Putin, if Trump’s election would mean “positive changes from Russia’s point of view.” Patrushev answered: “To achieve success in the elections, Donald Trump relied on certain forces to which he has corresponding obligations. And as a responsible person, he will be obliged to fulfill them.”

Today, Kremlin spokesperson Dmitry Peskov told a reporter: “The new administration is rapidly changing all foreign policy configurations. This largely aligns with our vision.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[eduardosilvacg]

https://www.sympla.com.br/app-hacker-slot-20-funciona-vale-a-pena-app-hacker-slot-20-onde-baixar__2197980

[livingforthewhump]

could you pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaassseeeeeee continue the villain tortured livestreamed thing??

sequel to this

—

Hero surveyed their team, ensuring everything was properly in place. Of course, they’d already checked a dozen different times, but there wasn’t much else to do with their anxiety other than put it to good use. There was one area, probably the most important, that they lacked the expertise to check well.

“Medic?” They asked, trying not to let their anxiety seep into their words. They knew Villain would be in desperate need of medical care. How could they not know? After all, Supervillain had gone to great lengths to make them all aware of that fact. Hero was frustrated beyond all words that the thing Villain would need the most was not something they could provide them. Hero was terrible with anything to do with health, which was really a large part of the reason why they had been elected the leader. Process of elimination: they simply weren’t good at anything else.

Medic raised an eyebrow. “Everything is ready, Hero. Including you. You should sit down; You’re going to wear yourself down before you’re even out on the field.”

A shake of their head. “Can’t. Hacker is going to send the signal any moment now, and I need to be ready.”

And just like clockwork, a steady pinging noise hit Hero’s wristband, letting them know that the blackout of Supervillain’s cameras was about to begin. Hero was on the move instantly, hopping lightly out of the back of their camouflaged van with just a jerk of their head to tell Teammate to follow. As they walked they powered off their wristband. Their earpiece was left behind in the van—the electronic blackout was total, and any technology used by them would be like a foghorn in a cathedral: utterly out of place and infinitely noticeable. They knew without looking that Teammate was copying them.

The plan was simple: Hacker had gotten into their camera system from the van, locating where Villain was being held and copying down a map to it. They needed more controls to do a full camera blackout, so they froze a few frames in the security system while they went ahead of the company and took control of the security room. From there they would orchestrate a blackout that would last approximately ten minutes before someone noticed and fixed it. In the meantime they would be loading Supervillain’s files onto their own computer while Hero and Teammate went to get Villain. Five minutes in, five minutes out.

And the clock was already ticking.

The door creaked open in front of Hero, the lock having been disabled by Hacker just moments before. Without sparing more than a glance around to make sure no one was waiting in ambush, Hero took off at a sprint down the hall. The door they’d entered through was on a lower level equivalent to a basement, they supposed. Supervillain’s base was built on a slope, allowing for easy access to several different levels.

Hero hooked turns and opened doors without any hesitation. They had studied the map Hacker had made for them so many times they were certain they wouldn’t forget it as long as they’d lived. Without knowing what state Villain was in and if they were going to have to carry them out, Hero wanted as much of their time to be budgeted for their exit as possible. Teammate’s footsteps thudded just behind them, constant and reassuring.

Once they got to the door that Hero knew was Villain’s, they skidded to a halt. No one had intercepted them on their way in, which was ideal, but…unrealistic. They knew they had to be prepared for a trap. Hero took a split second to catch their breath and toss a look over their shoulder to Teammate, who gave a nod and pulled out their weapon, holding it at the ready.

Hero pulled a small kit out of their pocket, slotting a tiny explosive into the space between the door and the frame just over where the doorknob was. A small press of a button and a cautious step back later, a tiny explosion of various acids and chemicals corroded and broke through the lock much faster than Hero could have. Hero pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was easily recognizable as the one the ransom video had been recorded in. The concrete walls were the same, the same chair was set up in the center with knotted rope neatly coiled in its seat as though it were just waiting to be used again, even the camera was still set up on a tall tripod a few feet away from the chair. One wall was covered in knNives and grotesque tools for torture. Dark blood puddled on the floor, some dried and flaky, and some still pooling in the grim light.

In the opposite corner huddled a small form—Villain. They were not easily recognizable as the same one in the ransom video, the same one who came to Hero with a defiant scheme to take down Supervillain and spent late nights researching and planning and brought them coffee in the morning when neither of them had slept. No. This couldn’t be the same one.

But it was.

Their hair was lanky, falling over their face and hiding their eyes in shadow. Or maybe it was just bruising so dark that Hero couldn’t tell the difference. Their knees were tucked up to their bare chest protectively, arms wrapped around their legs and face buried down. Even from here Hero was struck by how loosely their pants hung, how scrawny and thin their arms looked compared to how they used to be. Slightly bloodied cuffs were holding their wrists together, and their arms were covered in mottling bruises and purposeful cuts and what looked like cigarette burns. Hero took a step forward, trying to shake themself out of their horrified stupor, and the small figure that they knew was Villain cowered back, eyes flicking up to them. Hero couldn’t see their eyes well enough to tell if there was any recognition or hope in them, or just fear.

They crossed the room quickly so they could kneel down next to Villain.

“Villain, it’s me, Hero,” they said quietly, eyes moving over Villain’s form without thinking. “You look awful.” Apparently their mouth also moved without thinking.

It was true, though. Up close, even more so. Now Hero could see that some of the cuts on their arms spelled out words, crudely carved into the captive villain.

“Are you here to break me out?” Villain’s voice came out hoarsely like they hadn’t used it properly in weeks. Still, there was a sardonic edge to their voice, a slight glint in their eyes telling Hero to stay focused and remember their mission. Hero was in awe of that strength that remained after they had been put through all hell.

“Of course,” Hero scoffed. It should have been obvious.

Villain’s face darkened. “But…Youngest. Supervillain said—”

“Can you walk?” Hero interrupted.

“Um,” Villain hummed noncommittally, face screwing up while they shifted their legs. They tried to stifle a whimper in their throat, but Hero heard it loud and clear. “Supervillain kind of, um. Broke my leg with a mallet?”

“They what?” Hero hissed, rage spiking red through their vision. They took a long, controlled breath. “Okay. I can carry you. We just need to get out of here.”

Without waiting another second they scooped their arms underneath Villain and stood. They were much lighter than they should have been. They tried their best to ignore that and just start walking. Hero met Teammate’s eyes as they exited the God-forsaken room with Villain in tow. Teammate’s face was blank, but there was a tightness around their eyes and mouth that spoke volumes to Hero about just how bad Villain looked now that they weren’t folded over themself against a wall.

Villain’s bound arms now lay demurely over their lap, by Hero’s chest. This close, it was hard not to look at the words etched into them with a lazy and sadistic hand.

Coward.

Traitor.

Mutt.

Hero swallowed bile and started jogging. Villain cried out under their breath at the jostling it required, but Hero just went faster. If they didn’t get out of there they couldn’t promise that they weren’t going to turn around and find Supervillain just so they could make them pay for each one of those marks.

They didn’t remember getting back to the van, but suddenly they were there, and Teammate and Medic were lifting Villain from Hero’s arms and onto a small gurney strapped in place in the back of the van. It was a slightly makeshift setup.

Hero made themself climb into the van just so they could get closer to Villain, to make sure they were okay. Medic had them laying down and was cutting through their pants so they could get to the broken bone to set it. Villain’s head tilted wearily to the side, seeking out Hero. Their hand reached out and Hero caught it easily, letting them squeeze while Medic reset the bone. Before Villain’s yell had even died down, Hacker had the engine revved and was driving away.

Villain was passed completely out by the time they reached their base, and Hero wasn’t far from it. They insisted they carry Villain inside, now swathed in bandages and cleaned as best as they could manage with the supplies they’d brought. They were frightfully thin, ribs poking out like knuckles through their battered skin. A deep red burn slashed down their chest, drawing attention to the bright and inflamed skin around it compared to the ombre of bruises and scabbed cuts covering them. Supervillain had even signed their name on them, like they were a damned canvas.

Time wasn’t really making sense to Hero when they set Villain down in the medwing. They noticed it was dark outside when they left the van, and the full moon was bright overhead, but they didn’t know the time. They remembered Hacker remarking something about being surprised that Youngest wasn’t waiting up for them, and the tired laughter that went around the group. They remembered the color of Villain’s skin against the clean white sheet, and the weariness in Medic’s eyes as they went to fetch their charts and IVs. They remembered being pushed into a nearby bed, but they weren’t sure who it was that pushed them there.

Then they felt sunlight hitting their eyelids as their consciousness swam back into awareness.

“How is Villain?” Hero was asking before their eyes were even fully open. Hacker sat in a seat beside Villain’s bed, computer open on their lap.

Hacker’s lips twitched slightly. “Good morning to you too. I slept great.” A beat of silence let their joke fall flat, and they sighed. “Villain’s doing fine. Malnourished and dehydrated and very weak, but stable. They still haven’t woken up. They needed the rest.” Their appraising eyes went back to Hero. “You did too. Medic made some coffee before I threatened them into going to rest. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Hero stood, swaying just slightly as they made their way to Medic’s office and the coffee machine on their desk. “Where’s Sidekick?”

Hacker shrugged. “I haven’t seen them. They’re probably taking advantage of having those training halls all to themself.”

“Find anything in those files yet?”

A heavy sigh filled the air with the cadence of something done many times already. “I have them loaded up, but they’re heavily encrypted, and the decoding has taken me hours. I think I just about have it, though.”

Hero had poured themself a mug and was seated in a chair opposite Hacker when they let out a triumphant shout that just about made Hero spill their coffee.

“I got it!” Hacker grinned, gesturing Hero over. Before they even got to Hacker’s side, their smile was dropping. The only folder on the drive was one titled “I hope you enjoy your trade :)”

Hero’s stomach dropped. The file was filled with pictures and videos of Villain, during their captivity, displaying in horrible detail everything that was done to them.

Except, at the very end, was a link.

Hacker clicked it, fearing the worst.

Youngest’s teary face filled the screen.

—

hero/villain taglist (and those who wanted to be tagged in the continuation): @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @twistedcaretaker @lonesome--hunter @poppys-writing @endless-whump @multifandoms-multishipper @shadowylemon @utopian819 @whumpkitty @journey-the-panda @freefallingup13 @prettyboysinpain @1becky1 @temporary-whump-sideblog @chartreusephoenix @thelazywitchphotographer @onestopheroxvillain @smolxhero @mylifeisonthebookshelf @broadwaybabe18 @grizzlie70 @sunflower1000 @digitalart-dwa @tobeornottobeateacher @wolfeyedwitch @canigetanamenforbritney @ladygwennn @onlywhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @classicplesiosaur @lemongrass404 @defectiveangel13 @alainayumira @spiccykels @jadeocean46910 @icarusinstatic @will-ruadh @pumpkin-spice-whump @michelleswhumpyreblogs @cyberneticfire @tinyreadinglifelight @savagelysarcasticsilence @void-fireworks @dead-whispers @strawberryglitterball @writing-with-olive @rose-pinkie @didieatyourdog @corvid-voidbur @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @princess-poopsicle @hollowgast1 @naturallyathief @equestrianwritingsstuff @yells-in-lowercase @antmeisteronion @ace-caz

[mosaickiwi]

Everything and Anything

I got too goofy about this kink ask with aftercare. [REDACTED] is ~so~ poggers for basic human decency (I am completely serious). An eventful evening leads into soft and silly aftercare. 1k-ish words, GN reader.

cw// sexual content in nature (nothing explicit), non-specific kinks implied and mentioned, degradation and impact play/spanking specifically mentioned, allusions to neglectful aftercare

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~

You had some vague idea of how things would go. By now, you knew your dark-haired boyfriend never held back in his dedication to your comfort—but you hadn’t expected this. Who knew your casual comments about a few kinks would lead to treatment better than royalty?

Endless conversations of boundaries and what was to come had slotted into the previous week during your nightly pillow talks. Each more thorough than the last, as [REDACTED] always came prepared with research and more questions. They'd even brought a strangely long list of potential degrading pet names for you to decide on—some in languages you didn't speak. Eventually, he was satisfied to put an end to what you were sure being interrogated felt like. That is, if the interrogator saw fit to cuddle and kiss the criminal into a confession.

So the fateful night came, and all had gone well. You had the sore muscles and countless bite marks to prove it. It was what came after that made you feel akin to something worthy of heavenly worship. 

Once you were both dried off from a much needed—and breathtakingly intimate—bath, [REDACTED] began taking inventory of you. Gentle fingers glided over your naked form as he stood behind you, lingering at every mole, mark, and reddened imprint of teeth. He noticed all the small reactions of your body at certain placements of his careful touch, gaze focused on your visage in the mirror while you brushed your teeth. They couldn’t help but bestow a feather light kiss to each spot you barely tensed at to serve as silent apologies.

"Ren," you said once you'd spit your mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. "I told you I'm fine."

Blue eyes pointedly met yours in his reflection. "Really? Y'so sure after that punishment you wanted?" Their hand moved from your hip to lightly pat your bare ass, taking note of the whining gasp you let out. "'Wonder how you're gonna do that little front desk job tomorrow."

"It probably won't hurt by then," you insisted with a rather unsure shrug. As you set your toothbrush next to his untouched one, you looked back at him. "Not gonna brush your teeth?"

"Not quite yet. 'M relishing in the taste of you, Angel." They sensually licked their lips for dramatic effect.

Your nose wrinkled. "I love you, but that's so gross." Still, you raised up on your toes to kiss him, nasty as he was.

~

Dressed in your favorites among their clothes, you were splayed out on your stomach over the bed sheets—in hopes to save your admittedly sore ass come morning. You stared up at your overly doting hacker, who'd resigned himself to playing with your hair in silence. Your mind only wandered at his caress.

You couldn't imagine how you'd gotten so lucky to be their first and only. 

Hours had passed since that intense encounter, and he hadn't left your side except to get things you meekly asked for—it was impossible to ask too much, he'd reminded you. A blanket to warm up, a hot drink to soothe your tired throat, a gentle massage to relax you, and even gentler words of reassuring praise as you'd bathed together in steamy water and afterglow. Their soft, loving touch to bring you to quiet bliss once again in their embrace as you soaked in the bath stayed settled in your mind. It almost completely overshadowed the rough treatment they had you pleading on the verge of tears about earlier.

His actions were above and beyond the bare minimum that others were elated to get. There were myriads of horror stories about terrible partners that completely withdrew after sex, and even more so when performing certain emotionally and physically vulnerable activities on their supposed loved one. You knew he’d never treat you in such a hurtful way. Despite that security, just the thought of it burdened you in the days leading up. To be left to your own devices after the things he whispered in your ear and did to your body—no matter how desperately you welcomed it all—would devastate you. 

"You know you mean the world t'me," he suddenly said, an uneasy frown on his face that brought you back to his focus.

Those words again. Words you'd heard plenty in your relationship, usually accompanied by an embarrassed shrug to explain away some bizarre habit of theirs you'd discovered, or a passionate kiss to soothe both you and themselves. You'd lost count of how much your lover repeated the sentiment tonight. He still must've been worried that you needed soothing in spite of his endless affections. 

You hadn't realized you were holding onto a frown of your own. "I know," you spoke his name with resounding devotion and a soft smile, "You mean the universe to me."

Familiar pink blossomed in surprise on his cheeks, but he quickly caught on to your game. "Y'mean everything to me, Angel. ‘Love you more than anything."

"You mean—" His thumb pressed over your lips to silence you. It was completely stunning. They'd hardly ever stopped you from speaking before, even if it was to scold them.

"Whatever you're trying t'one up me with is already included in everything. So you’re not beating me here," he explained, smug as could be while he loomed ever closer. Ticklish kisses came littered along your cheeks and anywhere else he managed to reach, further encouraged by your laughs of protest.

You successfully wriggled out from their grasp after a few torturous moments. You felt flushed, clothes in disarray from their calculated attack. As you tugged up the sheets to hide under, you teasingly tossed a pillow at him. "Go get me some water, asshole."

He was happy to let the pillow hit him square in the face for your satisfaction. "Anything for you, my love."