#and this of course is for the Greater Good also. they’re not thinking about this in terms of a kid and his autonomy

[vigilskept]

They couldn't though. The Jedi can only act on planets under the Republic and Tatooine is outside it; by killing someone from Tatooine over something that's legal there, it could've easily thrown Tatooine and the Republic into war because the Jedi are their ambassadors off world. I don't think it's great either, but being a non-republic planet and Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon not being there on a mission, they had to trade for Anakin because it was the only way to operate under the laws of Tatooine all while making sure the boy gets out of slavery.

i do understand what you’re saying. and i understand why they put The Republic™ first. that’s what they’re Supposed To Do as jedi.

however. what i am saying is that what they’re Supposed To Do as jedi is fucked!

[frostimochi]

second best

(logan howlett x reader)

summary: You and Logan are both in love with people completely out of reach. After a seemingly innocent joke made for you and him to get together, the two of you brush it off. But as days pass, the idea seems less ridiculous. Then one night, Logan approaches you, finally agreeing to the idea--and what starts as a fake relationship soon takes an unexpected turn.

word count: 17.6k chapter count: 10/10 (finished!) author’s note: ok this is my very first time posting any media i've made on tumblr...i can't guarantee i'll do it again, but i will def be writing more on my ao3 account if you wish to see more! this is also a mix of the x-men films and x-men ‘97 for context. it's a bit rushed but i hope you all enjoy! :)

chapter 1 - what we carry

The night was tense. Clouds of smoke, smoldering debris choked the air, and the distant sound of sirens echoed through the city. It was another X-Men mission coming to an end. You crouched low behind the crumbling remnants of an abandoned building, your heart hammering in your chest as you peeked around the corner. Flames flickered in the distance, casting shadows across the deserted street.

But you weren’t alone; Logan crouched beside you, eyes sharp and focused, his senses tuned into the slightest movement in the darkness. He grunted softly, the usual gruff in his voice present, even when he whispered. "They’re circling around. We need to move."

You nodded, adrenaline still coursing through your veins after the battle that had nearly gone sideways. The mission had been simple enough on paper, but nothing ever went as planned in the field. What was supposed to be a routine infiltration turned into an all-out firefight when the enemy showed up in greater numbers than anticipated.

"Stick close," Logan added, his eyes flicking to yours for just a moment, a brief concern crossing his usually impassive face. "You good, bub?"

"Yeah, I’m fine," you lied, already feeling the dull ache in your side from where you’d taken a glancing blow. You could push through it, just like you always did. This wasn’t your first mission, and it certainly wouldn’t be your last. But the fatigue was beginning to weigh on you, not just from the fight, but from everything else—specifically, your own personal endeavors from a few days back.

You and Remy have gotten awfully close. Closer than you probably should have allowed. But he was still wrapped up with someone else, and that reality gnawed at you. The thought lingered as you and Logan crept forward. It wasn’t just the mission weighing on you tonight.

As the two of you moved through the shadows, working your way toward the extraction point, your thoughts only continued stranding to Remy. The way he’d effortlessly deflected attacks earlier, how his movements were always so fluid and confident. You couldn’t help but admire him, desire him. A familiar pang hit your chest, knowing the truth deep down; he only had eyes for Marie.

Just like Logan only seemed to have eyes for Jean.

The thought made you glance at Logan, who was scanning the area ahead. Even now, you knew he was thinking about her, about Jean. The woman who could never be his, no matter how much he wanted her. In the end, you were both stuck in this endless cycle of wanting someone who was just out of reach.

The extraction point wasn’t far, but just as you neared it, a gunshot cracked through the air. You flinched, instinctively ducking as Logan pushed you back against the wall, his body shielding yours.

"Stay down," he growled, his claws extending with a sharp snikt. He didn’t hesitate, charging toward the threat before you could react. The sound of a struggle echoed through the alleyway as you pressed a hand to your side, wincing.

By the time you caught up, Logan had already taken care of the attacker, standing over him with a dark look in his eyes. His claws retracted as he wiped the blood off his knuckles with a grimace.

"Let’s get the hell out of here," he muttered, his voice low. 

You didn’t argue, following him in silence as you both slipped into the shadows, heading for the jet. You were the last few to escape, as the night felt colder, with the exhaustion hitting you full force as the adrenaline began to fade.

. . .

Later, as the two of you sat in the dimly lit jet, silence stretched between you and Logan. The mission was over, but the weight of everything else from your physical pain, to personal life still stuck at the back of your mind. You leaned back in your seat, staring out the window as the city disappeared beneath the clouds.

"You alright, Y/N?" Logan’s voice broke the silence, his gaze still on you, seeing you still holding onto your side.

"Yeah," you replied, though the aching pain had gotten worse, and your thoughts still scattered. But you knew he wasn’t asking about the mission.

"Doesn’t seem like it," he remarked, a knowing edge to his tone. “You’re awfully quiet.”

You looked over at him, unsure if you wanted to brush it off or actually talk about what was on your mind. 

"I don’t know, Logan," you admitted quietly. "Everything just feels... off lately.”

His eyebrows furrowed in questioning, as you continued. You didn’t feel any reason in hiding it anymore, since there wasn't anything left you could do at this point. The fatigue didn’t help either. Processing a single thought was a different pain on its own.

“Just wishin’ Remy looked at me the same way as Rogue.” you replied in a soft-spoken whisper. 

He didn’t respond right away, just leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment.

"You’re not the only one," Logan finally said, his voice low and rough. "Sometimes it feels like I’m just also going through the motions, you know?”

He paused.

 “Jean... she’s never gonna look at me the way I want her to. Not while she’s with Scott."

"You ever get tired of it?" you asked suddenly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. Logan looked over at you, one eyebrow raised.

“Of what?”

“Wanting someone you know you’ll never have?”

Logan let out a low, almost bitter laugh, leaning back in his seat. "More than you know. But it’s not exactly something I can just turn off, you know? Not in my nature."

"Yeah, well, easier said than done," you muttered, trying to shrug it off. "I have bad luck with these things.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, just watched you with that quiet intensity of his, noticing what others overlooked. You could feel his eyes on you, the weight of his presence grounding you, in a way that Remy’s never had.

"Luck’s overrated," Logan said finally, his voice low and steady. "We make our own way without it."

Another beat of silence passed, the air thick with everything left unsaid. But something about the quiet was comfortable now. You weren’t alone in your hurt anymore, and neither was he.

"We’re a real messed up bunch, huh?" you said, forcing a small laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Logan smirked, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah. A real bunch of idiots.”

You silently nodded in agreement, the heaviness in your chest finally settling. You both sat there, the weight of your unspoken heartaches still lingering in the room. It was strange how easy it was to talk to Logan about it, but you knew he understood it quite well. To want someone so badly, yet know you could never have them.

Maybe that's why, despite the exhaustion, despite the pain and confusion, you could finally let yourself close your eyes, knowing that even though you couldn’t have everything you wanted, at least you had this moment. This understanding. And maybe that was something worth holding onto. For now. 

chapter 2 - what we seek

Back at the mansion, things had settled back into a familiar routine. The mission was behind you, but it didn’t stop the heartache for Gambit slipping back in. The lingering feeling always felt like a stab in the chest, a constant reminder of what you couldn’t have.

The truth is, it was supposed to happen. You and Remy had planned it out several nights ago: a quiet, simple evening away from the team, just the two of you. There had been moments; rare, unguarded looks from him that had felt like a promise, a hint of something more. You’d felt it, that same, exhilarating thrill that always seemed just within reach, and for once, you’d let yourself believe in the possibility of something more. But in the end, the odds never seemed to work out in your favor. He stood you up, and was later found reconnecting, rekindling his love with another woman from his past.

Rogue. Marie. 

You had nothing against her—hell, you admired her deeply, and spoke with her several times outside of missions and training. You were sure she didn’t know about what had been happening between you and Remy. You couldn’t deny they were both drawn together in a way that was undeniable, magnetic. Whatever was between you and him had been put aside. You knew it would never compare.

In the end, it was easier to keep to yourself, easier to pretend nothing had changed, but the pain of wanting something just out of reach, kept you from finding any real peace. And in those moments, you found yourself drifting, walking the halls of the X-Mansion at odd hours, going places where you knew no one else would be.

One of those nights, you stumbled to grab any kind of sustenance. The kitchen was quiet, as you poured yourself a late-night drink. A few footsteps from behind broke the chaos of thoughts bursting in your mind, and you turned to see Morph entering with their usual grin. They slid onto a stool, giving you a once-over with exaggerated curiosity.

“So... heard you and Wolverine had a heart-to-heart last night,” they said, a smirk forming.

You rolled your eyes, setting the bottle down, visually annoyed. “Does anyone around here not know everyone else’s business?”

Morph shrugged, leaning back in their seat. “Hey, it's not my fault the walls are thin.”

You let out a sigh, swirling your drink absentmindedly. "And what does everyone think they know, exactly?"

Morph grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. "Not much... just that two lonely souls found a little solace in each other’s company after a rough mission." They paused, quivering an eyebrow. "Did I miss anything?"

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. "Sometimes, Morph, you’re worse than the tabloids."

"All I'm saying," they continued, "is that sometimes we get so caught up in what we can’t have, that we miss what’s right there."

Raising an eyebrow, you took a sip of your drink. It burned through your throat as you slammed it back down on the table. You took a heavy breath before responding. “Oh? Enlighten me.”

“You and Logan should get together. Problem solved.” Morph crossed their arms, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Right,” you snorted, but his comment gnawed at you. “And how exactly would that solve anything?”

Morph just grinned, tilting their head thoughtfully. “Well, think about it. You two already get each other. You're both in love with people who are already taken. So why not take some of that stress off? Might as well team up and have a pity party together.” 

“Funny,” you replied dryly. “But Logan and I both know where we stand. We don’t need to complicate things further.”

Morph leaned in, their playful smirk never wavering. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You’re telling me you’d rather mope around with this crush on a guy who can’t even remember your name when Rogue’s in the room? That’s some next level torture.”

You shot them a glare, trying to ignore how his words cut a little too close to home. “I’m not moping. I’m just—”

“Just what?” they interrupted, leaning back with feigned innocence. “Waiting for Gambit to realize he made a mistake? Please. At this point, he probably thinks you’re just his backup plan.”

“That’s not fair,” you snapped, your voice sharp. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“Sure I do,” Morph replied, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve got the whole tragic love story going on. It’s like a soap opera, only less exciting. So why not shake things up? You and Logan could make quite the team. Brooding heartthrob meets the queen of unrequited love? It’s practically a rom-com waiting to happen.”

They chuckled, and before you knew it, he morphed into the Wolverine himself. They adopted his brooding, eyebrow furrowing expression, capturing his essence flawlessly. “So, Y/N,” They said in a low, gravelly voice, “still hung up on Gambit? You know he’s not exactly waiting around for you, right?”

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your composure. “You’re really going to keep this up, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” they replied, their expression a mix of seriousness and playfulness. “Why settle for someone who’s already got his eyes on Rogue when you could be with someone who actually sees you? Like me.”

“If only the real Logan could see you now. You wouldn’t last a second if he was here,” you quipped.

 “He’d probably give me a high five for finally getting you to lighten up.”

“Sure, right before he throws you out the window,” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly. “Even if Logan and I bothered to give each other a chance, it's just another excuse for some love-hexagoned drama for the students to feign on.”

“Hexagon? I thought this was more of a straight line,” Morph said, shrugging playfully, returning back to their form. “How much longer are you going to let Gambit’s rejection keep you down?”

You sighed, feeling the weight of their words. “I don’t know, Morph. I’m still trying to figure out my feelings for Remy, and you know how complicated things are with Marie in the picture.”

Morph leaned in closer, their expression softening a bit. “Look, I get it. It’s a mess, but you can’t just let it stop you from exploring something new. What’s the harm in talking to the wolverine? You might be surprised.”

“Talking to Logan?” you repeated, rolling your eyes. “What’s that going to do? I’m not looking for a rebound or a distraction. I’m not that kind of gal.”

“Just a chat,” they insisted, his voice lightening again. “You never know. Maybe you’ll find out that you have more in common with him, more than just a mutual crush on unavailable people.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes, getting up from your seat. “I appreciate the pep talk, but I’m not ready for that right now. I need to deal with my own stuff first.”

Morph crossed their arms, the grin returning. “Fair enough, but just know I’m here, waiting, when you’re ready to make your move.”

“Thanks, but really, let’s just drop it for now,” you said, feeling a bit lighter in thought as you made your way out of the kitchen.

As you walked through the familiar halls of the X-Mansion up to your room, Morph’s words were still in your head. They had a point, no matter how much you denied it. Maybe this was something you needed, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

What could possibly go wrong?

chapter 3 - what we plan

The X-Mansion had another afternoon buzzed with its usual energy, the sounds of training and laughter echoing through the halls. You found comfort in your routine, but your thoughts often drifted back to Morph’s words from a few days back. Yet, every time you found yourself lost in those thoughts, a rush of uncertainty would follow.

After an intense training session, you retreated to the common room, seeking solace in the company of your teammates. As you entered, you spotted Logan across the room, leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he talked to Jean. Even bothering to talk about what Morph said to you with him was pointless. He had his own things to deal with, if it wasn’t clear enough.

You grabbed a nearby magazine, your eyes skimming the pages, but your mind wandered elsewhere. You recalled Morph’s words, their constant suggestion that you should pursue something with Logan. It felt too foolish to consider now. He had his own problems, and his own, personal interests. 

As you tried to concentrate on the text, you caught snippets of their conversation. Jean laughed at something Logan said, and your heart sank a little. You shifted in your seat, pretending to be engrossed in the magazine while you tried to make sense of your feelings. Was it even worth pursuing something with Logan, or was it just a fleeting thought sparked by Morph's teasing?

Lost in thought, you barely noticed the hours pass, and the only person left in the room was you. It was late. You threw the magazine back on the couch, and decided to head back to your room, making your way up the stairs. As you walked down the hall, you suddenly bumped into Logan, who was on his way back down.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You okay, bub?”

“Yeah, just didn’t see you coming,” you replied, trying to mask your heart pounding out of your chest.

He offered a small smirk, his expression softening. “You’re awfully lost in thought lately. What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. Should you mention Morph’s suggestion? Or the nagging feeling that there could be something more between you two? Instead, you shrugged lightly. “Just the usual stuff...training, missions, you know how it is.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “You sure–?”

“Yeah, well,” you interrupted, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, “there's a lot on my mind.”

He studied you for a moment, those intense hazel eyes piercing right through. “You wanna talk about it?”

The weight of his gaze continued to send your heart racing. 

This was it. You could either keep running from your thoughts or just finally spit it out.

 “I was thinking about what Morph said to me a few nights ago.”

A flicker of curiosity crossed Logan's face. “Morph? What’d that hellspawn say this time?”

You bit your lip, gathering your thoughts. “He mentioned us. Getting together. It’s ridiculous, I know.” The words tumbled out before you could stop yourself, leaving you feeling quite awkward. You tried presenting yourself enamored by crossing your arms and looking casual, but anyone could see right through that it was taking a toll on you.

Logan’s eyebrows furrowed, and paused for a moment, taking it into thought. He then let out a soft chuckle.

 “Y/N, don’t let Morph’s nonsense mess with your head. They're just trying to stir the pot, like always.”

You bit your lip, still unconvinced. It took him that long to form his sentence? You assumed the both of you were just not in the mood to discuss it, which was partially true. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It just had me thinking it over so much, that I–”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand, his expression shifting to one of playful exasperation. “Seriously, don’t overthink it. We’ve got enough to deal with without getting tangled up in that kind of drama.” 

And that was that. In the end, maybe it was a stupid idea after all. He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a nod of reassurance as he walked back off.

You took a deep breath, attempting to collect yourself as you reached the top floor when you stopped dead in your tracks. There he was. Remy, standing there, hands in pockets just right in your way, with his usual playful smirk softened by something unreadable in his expression. He straightened up when he saw you, his eyes flickering that made your heart clench.

"Chère," he greeted, voice low and smooth, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond with the same warmth you usually did.

“Remy,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even, standing still. Though, your emotions stirred uneasily beneath the surface. After everything that had happened, after he’d stood you up and had made the decision to be with someone else, you couldn’t ignore the pang of frustration gnawing at you.

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to steady yourself, but the words you’d been rehearsing came spilling out faster than you expected. "Have you figured out what I mean to you yet?”

His easy smile faltered, and he looked away for a second before meeting your gaze again, regret shadowing his eyes. “Y/N, it ain't like that. I never wanted to hurt ya...”

“But you did, didn’t you?” The question hung between you, heavy and thick with the nights he’d promised and didn’t show, the times you’d let yourself believe he might actually feel the same way.

His hand reached out, but you pulled back before he could touch you. "I waited for you, Remy. I thought—” You trailed off, hating the vulnerability in your voice, but there was no point hiding it now. “I thought we had something.”

He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck, frustration clear in his stance. “Y/N, you mean a lot t’ me, but Marie... she’s somethin’ I just can’t let go of. She’s always been there in a way I can’t explain.”

You swallowed hard, nodding slowly, the ache in your chest settling as a numbness began to take its place. “I see.”

“No, chère,” he protested softly, stepping closer, his expression earnest. “I care for ya, but Rogue... she’s part o’ me.” He shook his head, struggling to find the right words, but they felt like nothing more than just empty echoes.

In the silence that followed, you took a step back, pressing your arms around yourself to hold together the pieces of your heart that felt like they were splintering apart.

"Fine. Let’s just pretend it never happened."

With that, you turned and left him standing there, resisting the urge to look back. If you stayed, you’d only keep finding yourself hoping for something that would never be. Remy reached out as if to stop you, but you turned, stepping away before he could say anything more, with your footsteps echoing against the quiet walls of the mansion. You were done letting yourself be second place.

As you reached for your door, you took a shaky breath, attempting to swallow the wave of emotions that had been threatening to burst free. You’d tried for so long to keep those feelings buried, to push them aside and pretend that things didn’t affect you as much as they did. But tonight, it felt impossible. You would do anything to get back at him, just as he did to you.

Just as you were about to turn the doorknob and enter your room, a voice behind you broke the silence. “You sure you’re alright?”

Startled by his voice, you turned, finding Logan standing there.

He’d seen it, hadn’t he? The hurt, the anger, what had just happened a few moments earlier...he couldn’t have just let it go unnoticed.

As you stood there, still reeling from your conversation with Remy, Logan’s voice broke through your thoughts. His tone was unusually gentle, his gaze fixed on you.

“I, uh, heard some of that back there,” he admitted, his voice low. “...Kinda hard not to.”

You nodded, letting out a sigh of defeat. “Yeah...”

Logan took a moment to steady himself, his expression shifting as he gathered himself before speaking again. “So, you’re done waiting around for him to make up his mind?”

“Completely done,” you replied, crossing your arms. “I’m tired of this backup shit.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like Gambit and Jean could use a wakeup call...” His tone turned mischievous, and you could almost see the thoughts racing behind his eyes. “You up for causing a little trouble?”

“What do you have in mind?” you asked, intrigued.

Was he actually reconsidering what you told him?

“You know... I thought about what Morph said to you, after hearing all that earlier,” he admitted, looking a bit conflicted. “At first, I figured it really was just them stirring the pot, trying to rile us up. But then...” He trailed off, rubbing a hand over his jaw, clearly gathering his thoughts. “Then I started thinking that maybe they were onto something.”

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected confession. Logan, of all people, wasn’t one open to change, let alone do something like this.

 “If they want to ignore what’s right in front of them, maybe they need a reason to think twice. We show up, give ‘em a taste of what it feels like to be on the outside looking in. You and me... pretending we’re hitting it off.”

Your eyes widened.

 It was simple, maybe a bit petty, but the thought of flipping the tables felt too satisfying. And this was an opportunity that might never come again.

 “So, you’re saying... we should act like we’re into each other?”

“Exactly,” he replied. “A few meaningful looks and some well timed moments. It’ll have them second guessing everything they thought they knew about us.”

“Tempting,” you admitted, still in thought about wanting to go with this crazy idea, but still hesitant on what could happen from it. You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Okay, I’m in. But we need to set some ground rules; no crossing lines, and we keep it strictly for show.”

“Deal.” Logan extended his hand, and you shook it, sealing the agreement with a firm grip.

. . .

As you settled into bed that night, you stared up at the ceiling, replaying the day’s events in your mind. The idea sounded nice at first, and maybe it was originally Morph playing along, trying to play matchmaker. But now it was official. 

And you had no idea what you were about to get yourself into. 

chapter 4 - what we act

You woke up to the muted light of morning, filtering through the curtains. Your mind was already racing with thoughts of the day ahead. Today, you’d be putting the plan into action with Logan, and the uncertainty tormented you. How would it feel to pretend to be something you weren't? Taking a deep breath, you got out of bed, bracing yourself for whatever might unfold.

Making your way to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, you hoped to dodge any awkward encounters, but there he was. Logan stood at the counter, stirring coffee with an unreadable expression as he leaned against the counter, lost in thought.

As soon as he noticed you, a small smirk played on his lips, something almost conspiratorial. “Mornin’,” he said casually, but there was a spark in his eye that hadn’t been there before.

 He definitely had something in mind. 

“Morning,” you replied, trying to play it cool as you grabbed a glass of water. The room felt heavy with unspoken tension, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but feel a bit self conscious under his stare.

Logan set down his mug, his expression shifting to something slightly more serious. “You still up for this?” he asked, voice low, and quiet enough that no one else would overhear.

You took a deep breath, giving a decisive nod.

A moment later, you heard footsteps in the hallway, followed by the unmistakable sound of Jean’s laughter. Logan gave you a subtle nod, the silent signal that it was time to begin. You took a step closer to him, glancing up through your lashes just enough to catch his eye.

He responded immediately, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in, his hands lingering beneath the hem of your pants, just enough for the warmth of his touch to spread over you like a shockwave. “Play along,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

You tried to settle your heartbeat as the footsteps grew closer. Jean and Scott rounded the corner, stopping abruptly when they saw the two of you standing so close, Logan’s arm around you, that spoke of something far more than friendship. You saw the flicker of surprise on Jean’s face, quickly masked with a forced smile, and a hint of something else in Scott’s usual stoic expression.

“Oh,” Jean said, voice a touch higher than usual, “Good morning, you two.”

Logan just nodded, that small, mischievous smile barely hidden. “Mornin’, Jean. Scott.”

Jean’s gaze flicked between you two, as though trying to piece together how she’d missed this...development. Her eyes lingered on you, a flash of something unreadable crossing her face, and you had to resist the urge to smirk. You were definitely giving them both something to think about.

Scott cleared his throat, trying to break the strange silence. “Didn’t realize... you two were so close.”

Logan’s arm tightened around you just a bit. “Well, there’s a lot people don’t realize,” he replied smoothly. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you, and the flicker of jealousy in Jean’s eyes told you it wasn’t lost on her either. You were tensed up in his embrace, and it didn’t help that your body was heating up right at that moment. Your throat was suddenly dry, struggling to utter a single word.

Scott's eyes shifted between you and Logan, his normally composed expression giving way to slight discomfort. Jean, on the other hand, tried to maintain her composure, but you could see the question in her eyes, the slight arch of her brow as if she was piecing things together.

“Well,” Jean said, attempting a breezy tone, “it’s... nice to see everyone getting along.” But her gaze had more to elaborate, the forced smile not quite reaching her eyes.

“Yeah, who knew?” Logan replied, his smirk turning just a little more smug as he pulled you closer. He was playing it up perfectly, and the look of surprise on both their faces was strangely satisfying.

Scott gave a polite nod, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the scene. “Right. Well, don’t let us interrupt.”

With that, he turned, gesturing for Jean to follow him down the hall. As they walked away, she cast one last glance over her shoulder, her expression unreadable but unmistakably intrigued.

When they were out of your vision, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Logan finally released you, a satisfied look in his eyes.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he said, his tone teasing, still laced with an undercurrent of seriousness.

“Yeah, but this was just a warm up,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face despite the nerves churning in your stomach. “We’re going to have to keep going with this...show of ours.”

“Just keep it casual, and we’ll be fine.” Logan replied, getting up from his chair. He didn’t step away immediately, though; the space between you felt more charged than it had any right to be. His hand lingered again. This time, near yours on the counter, close enough that you could feel the warmth, and for a fleeting moment, it was quite easy to forget that this was all just for show.

You cleared your throat, shifting back slightly, giving yourself some breathing room. “Right, casual,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. 

The silence stretched, comfortable but weighted, almost feeling the unspoken change in his gaze.

“You’re overthinking it,” he murmured, his eyes glinting with a familiar spark. “If you keep acting like it’s a big deal, they’ll notice.”

You felt a slight heat creep up your neck, but shrugged it off. “I’m not overthinking,” you shot back, attempting to keep your tone light. “Just making sure I’m... convincing.”

He stepped a little closer, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Convincing? More like being stiff.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Not true.”

“Y/N, you looked like you had a stick up your ass.”

“I’m doing my best, okay? It doesn’t just happen overnight.”

Logan’s expression stayed steady. “Good,” he said, his voice softer but still direct. “That’s all we need.”

You took a breath, nodding slowly, feeling the weight of his words. “It’s just... a lot to think about.”

“Then don’t overthink it,” he replied with a slight grin. “We’re just giving them a show. Keep it simple, don’t force anything. They’ll see what they want to see.”

You nodded, only then remembering that once again, you had to continue this show of yours. You and Logan would be heading out on a mission tonight, with you alongside him. Together. They hadn’t told you who else would be joining, which left a gash of uncertainty in the pit of your stomach.

“Right, the mission,” you replied, trying to shake off any leftover tension. “No pressure, right?”

Logan chuckled softly, “No pressure at all. Just another night making sure no one dies.”

“Yeah,” you took a small breath, a smile breaking through your nerves. “And pretending to be in a relationship.”

“Remember to keep it simple,” he reminded you, a tease in his tone, while on your gaze before he walked off. “And maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you take the lead.”

 A knot of anxiety formed in your stomach as he left you alone in the kitchen. The mission ahead felt daunting enough, and the thought of maintaining the pretense of a relationship with him sent your mind racing. 

This wasn’t going to be so easy.

chapter 5 - what we suppress 

The evening air was cool and crisp as you made your way to the X-jet with Logan, Scott, and Marie, who was adjusting her gloves in silence. Scott’s gaze was steady, his expression all business, but you caught the slight hesitation as his eyes passed over you and Logan. Logan noticed too, throwing a quick, almost smug grin Scott’s way as he placed a casual hand on your shoulder. The warmth of his touch caught you off guard, but you willed yourself to keep a neutral expression, feeling the cool, easy role settling over you.

Marie, catching the gesture out of the corner of her eye, raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. If anything, the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips, like she knew something Scott didn’t. Scott, meanwhile, looked at Logan and then back at you with an expression somewhere between surprise and doubt, but he stayed quiet.

“Alright, listen up,” Scott began, folding his arms as he launched into the mission brief. “Intel indicates there’s a cache of prototype weapons and possibly experimental compounds stashed in the warehouse. Marie and I will sweep the perimeter. Logan, you will take the inner corridor. Y/N, secure the samples if you find any. We need evidence, so keep it quiet, keep it subtle, and stay on comms.”

“Understood,” Logan replied, the lazy smirk still lingering as he squeezed your shoulder for effect. You fought back the urge to shove him off, partly because his touch felt oddly...reassuring, but mostly because Scott’s slight frown felt like its own kind of victory. And seeing it any longer would make you cry of laughter. 

The X-jet lifted off, slicing through the night sky. You shifted your attention to watching your surroundings, taking a seat besides Logan, glancing at Scott who began to outline the plan once more.

“Alright, everyone. We’ll be approaching the warehouse in ten minutes. Rogue and I will cover the perimeter while you two head inside. Stay alert,” Scott instructed.

“Roger that,” Logan replied. “You just make sure to keep those laser eyes to yourself.”

“Very funny,” Scott shot back, his tone dry. “Focus on the mission, Logan.”

As the jet soared through the clouds, you glanced at Logan, who wore a smirk that could only be described as infuriatingly charming. “So,” he said, leaning closer. “You ready?”

“Yeah. Guess I'm being your emotional support tonight,” you uttered in a sarcastic manner. It happened almost naturally; turning your mind off to focus on what was ahead, you couldn’t deny it helped your case. “Someone has to keep you in check.”

“Good luck with that,” he retorted with a chuckle. “But I have to admit, having you by my side makes this whole mission a lot more interesting.”

“Glad to hear I can spice up your life, Logan,” you replied, trying to match his nonchalance. “Just don’t get too distracted by my presence.”

“Ah, you must be talking about your ability to look cute while doing nothing.”

You couldn’t help yourself but have a big smirk plastered on your face. “I can assure you, I’ll be doing plenty of ‘nothing’ while you’re busy kicking ass.”

Scott’s voice cracked through, his tone annoyed. “Are you two done flirting? We’re almost at the drop zone.”

“He’s right,” Marie chimed in with a sly grin, glancing over her shoulder at the two of you. “Save the romance for after we’re done.”

Logan’s smirk only grew as he leaned back, crossing his arms. “Don’t worry, Anne. It’s just mission talk. Mostly.”

The jet began its descent, and you felt the subtle shift in atmosphere as everyone went into mission mode. As soon as you touched down, the team moved quickly. Rogue and Scott split off to cover the perimeter as planned, disappearing into the shadows around the warehouse. Logan gave you a quick nod before signaling toward the side entrance, both of you slipping quietly inside.

The place was dark and still, the distant hum of machinery faint in the air. Logan took the lead, moving with a quiet precision that belied his usual rough demeanor. You stayed close, eyes scanning every corner, trying to ignore the fact that he was keeping just a little closer than necessary.

The comms crackled in your ear. “Y/N, Logan, we’re in position,” Scott’s voice came through, steady and calm. “Any movement?”

“Negative,” you whispered back. “Place is dead quiet so far.”

As you moved further into the building, a tense silence settled between you and Logan. He slowed, gesturing for you to check a nearby door while he kept watch. You edged forward, opening it just wide enough to peer inside. The room was packed. Crates, steel tables, shelves lined with sleek weapons and unknown tech. Jackpot.

“Found something,” you whispered into the comm. “Looks like prototype weapons, maybe more.”

“Copy that,” Marie replied. “Get what you can. Scott and I are still clear.”

You quickly snapped photos of the equipment, putting smaller prototypes in your pockets while Logan kept his gaze fixed on the corridor. But as you finished, footsteps echoed down the hallway, breaking the stillness. You froze, eyes darting to Logan, who signaled for you to keep low. You quickly ducked behind one of the tables, as he slid beside you.

“Company.” you murmured.

Logan gave a subtle nod, resting a steady hand over your lips as a signal to keep calm. His fingers lingered for a beat, sparking a warmth you tried to ignore, forcing your attention back to the sounds approaching.

Scott’s voice crackled in your ear. “Status?”

Logan cast you a sideways glance. “Just a little activity. We’re fine.”

The shadow of a guard passed just outside the doorway, pausing for a tense moment. You held your breath, clutching the edge of the table to keep from shifting, as Logan’s hand brushed yours in silent reassurance. The faint metallic clink of the guard’s gear sent a shiver up your spine.

The sound of boots hitting concrete grew louder. Guards. Too many to take head-on, especially in such a confined space. Logan’s sharp eyes darted around before locking onto a supply closet a few feet away. Without hesitation, he pulled you toward it, tugging the door open just wide enough for the both of you to slip inside.

The space was cramped, barely large enough to hold the two of you. Logan’s body pressed against yours as he adjusted his position, his arm braced against the wall to keep from crushing you entirely. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, his warmth seeping through the tension of the moment.

“Really?” you whispered, your tone dry despite the situation. “This is your big plan?”

“Unless you’ve got a better idea, quiet down,” Logan replied, his voice barely above a murmur. His tone was clipped, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

The voices of the guards grew closer, and the beam of a flashlight passed just outside the slats of the door. Your breath hitched, and Logan caught the sound, his gaze flicking to yours. He shook his head slightly, silently telling you to stay calm.

The guards paused right outside, their conversation muffled but tense. Logan’s jaw tightened, and his hand instinctively rested near his hip, ready to unsheathe his claws if necessary. But the seconds stretched on, and the guards eventually moved on, their voices fading into the distance.

Logan let out a quiet breath, his eyes flicking to yours. “Told you it’d work.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the tight space and the way his confidence somehow made the situation feel less suffocating. “Sure, if by ‘work’ you mean nearly giving me a heart attack.”

He shrugged, the movement almost brushing against you. “Heart’s still beating, isn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the corner of your mouth from twitching upward. “You’re impossible.”

The two of you stepped out, looking back and forth around the room to ensure no one else was around. But the momentary quietness didn’t last for long. 

Shouts from the guards grew louder, their heavy boots pounding against the concrete floors. Logan’s grip on your hand tightened as he tugged you forward, weaving through the maze of corridors.

“This way,” he urged, his voice low but urgent.

You followed close behind, heart hammering in your chest. The narrow hallway gave way to an open loading dock, the cool night air brushing your face like a lifeline. But the guards weren’t far behind.

“There!” one shouted, raising a weapon.

Logan didn’t slow, yanking you behind a stack of crates as bullets ricocheted off the walls. He growled low in frustration, eyes scanning for a way out. Spotting a gap between two trailers, he pointed. “Through there. Go!”

You didn’t hesitate, ducking through the opening and sprinting toward the perimeter fence. The sound of Logan’s claws slicing through the chain link sent a jolt through you. He gestured for you to crawl through first, covering your back before slipping out himself.

The two of you bolted into the cover of the nearby woods, the sounds of pursuit fading into the distance. You quickly turned on your comms for a moment.

“Scott, Rogue—they found us. We’re heading back to the rendezvous point.”

Marie’s voice crackled in response. “Got it. We’re still clear on our end. Stay low, and we’ll meet you there.”

Scott’s voice followed in. “What happened?”

“Guards,” Logan growled, keeping his pace brisk as he scanned the woods for any sign of pursuit. “Too many for subtlety. But we’ve got what we came for.”

“Just make it back in one piece,” Scott replied, an underlying tension in his voice.

“Always do,” Logan said with a smirk, cutting the comm connection before Scott could fire back.

The night pressed in around you, the sound of your breaths and the faint rustle of leaves filling the silence. After a few minutes, you slowed your pace, leaning against a tree to catch your breath. Logan stopped beside you, his sharp eyes still scanning the dark forest.

“You good?” he asked, his voice low but softer than before.

“Yeah,” you managed, your heartbeat finally beginning to settle. “Thanks for the assist back there.”

Logan shrugged, but his smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Wouldn’t have let you face that mess alone.”

You gave a small smile, feeling the weight of the moment settle. “Still, you didn’t have to...you know, drag me into that closet.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and for once, he didn’t have a witty comeback. Instead, he locked eyes with you, something unspoken flickering in his eyes before he finally looked away.

“Come on,” he said, breaking the silence. “We’re not out of the woods yet—literally.”

You rolled your eyes but followed as he led the way through the trees, the faint sounds of the team waiting in the distance.

The treeline opened up to reveal the sleek silhouette of the X-jet, its ramp lowered like a beacon in the darkness. The faint hum of its systems was a welcome sound, promising safety and a chance to catch your breath.

You and Logan dashed through the trees, the X-jet’s ramp now fully lowered, and you kept close, adrenaline propelling you forward. Breathing hard, the two of you made your way to walk inside.

Scott was already at the base of the ramp, his arms crossed and a scowl firmly in place. Marie stood beside him, leaning casually against the side of the jet, her sharp eyes flicking between you and Logan as you approached.

“You cut it close,” Scott said, his voice tight with barely restrained irritation.

“Yeah, well, we ran into a little welcoming party,” Logan shot back, his tone deliberately nonchalant as he marched up the ramp. He didn’t spare Scott a second glance, leaving you to catch up.

You hesitated, brushing a stray leaf from your sleeve as you met Scott’s gaze. “We’re fine. The mission’s intact. That’s what matters, right?”

Scott’s expression didn’t soften, but he gave a curt nod. “Get on board. We’ll debrief on the way back.”

You moved up the ramp, feeling Marie’s amused eyes on you as she followed. “What’s his problem?” you muttered under your breath.

Marie smirked. “Oh, you know Scott. He hates it when things don’t go perfectly. But between you and me...” She glanced toward Logan, who was already settling into his seat. “I think it’s something else that’s got him all twisted.”

Before you could respond, the hatch sealed shut, and the jet hummed to life. Scott took his place at the controls, his movements stiff, while Marie slid into the co-pilot’s seat. You dropped into the seat across from Logan, who leaned back with a sigh, his usual smirk creeping back onto his face.

“Something on your mind?” you asked, keeping your voice low.

“Nah,” he replied, though his tone didn’t match the word. After a beat, he added, “You did good out there.��

The simplicity of the compliment caught you off guard. You nodded, hiding a small smile as you turned your gaze to the window. The X-jet’s engines hummed steadily, the familiar sound almost lulling you into a sense of comfort after the chaos of the mission. You were both finally in the air, the tension of the night starting to dissolve with each mile that passed.

You shifted in your seat, feeling the exhaustion catch up with you. The adrenaline was wearing off, and fatigue hit harder than you expected. Logan, sitting beside you, seemed just as tired but still alert, his eyes scanning the cabin like he was always prepared for the next move.

You leaned slightly toward him, your head subconsciously moving toward his shoulder. At first, you told yourself it was just to ease the aching muscles in your neck, but as you settled against him, something else tugged at your chest. His shoulder was warm, a solid presence that somehow made everything feel a little less chaotic.

“Don’t get used to it,” you murmured, trying to push down the warmth flooding your cheeks.

Logan’s voice was low, teasing, but there was an edge of something softer to it. “Wasn’t planning on it.” He shifted, adjusting his posture to make you more comfortable, but you could tell he wasn’t going to make a joke out of it this time.

You let the quiet settle between you, eyes half-closed as your thoughts wandered. This isn’t supposed to feel this way, you thought, the weight of the moment suddenly heavy in your mind. It’s just supposed to be a game, a distraction. But the more time you spent with him, the more you realized that it was starting to feel like something else. Something real.

As the jet continued its steady flight, you let the thought drift to the back of your mind, pretending it wasn’t there. For now, you’d let yourself stay in this bubble, pretending this whole “fake dating” thing was still just that.

But deep down, you weren’t so sure anymore.

chapter 6 - what we hide

When the X-jet finally touched down at the X-Mansion, you felt a quiet relief. The doors opened with a hiss, and you stepped out first, walking briskly to the conference room where the debrief was set to take place. Scott, Marie, and Jean were already inside, sitting at the long table, their expressions unreadable.

Jean, ever the perceptive one, was the first to look up as you and Logan entered. Her gaze lingered on you both, a quiet smile tugging at her lips, but there was something behind it. A glimmer of knowing that made you feel suddenly exposed.

“Mission accomplished?” Jean asked, her voice warm but with that trademark sharpness that suggested she’d already read through the comms logs.

“Yeah,” Logan replied with his usual gruffness, dropping into a seat beside you. His knee brushed against yours, the contact so subtle it could’ve been an accident. You fought the urge to look at him, to acknowledge the sudden shift in the air.

Scott didn’t waste time getting down to business. He slid a tablet toward you, showing the photos of the prototypes and weapons you’d collected. “Is this all of it?” he asked, his voice more controlled than before, but the underlying tension between him and Logan was still palpable.

“Yeah,” you replied, your eyes still on the tablet. “Everything’s documented. No casualties on our end.” You searched through the pockets of your uniform, putting the mini prototypes down on the table. “And...these too.”

Jean nodded, tapping her fingers lightly on the table. “Good work,” she said, her tone still warm, but there was an edge to it now as her gaze shifted between you and Logan. She seemed to linger on you for a moment longer than necessary, her eyes narrowing just slightly in that knowing way.

“Everything went smoothly?” Jean asked, her voice casual but with a hint of something deeper. “No... surprises?”

You swallowed, not sure if she was referring to the mission or to something else entirely. You glanced at Logan, who was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. His expression was unreadable, but there was something about the way his jaw tightened that gave you the feeling he was just as aware of Jean’s subtle probing as you were.

“Yeah, no surprises,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Everything went as planned.”

Scott slid the tablet back toward the center of the table, his gaze lingering on it for a moment before he looked up. “Alright, I think that covers everything. You’ve done good work,” he said, his tone indifferent, but not unappreciative. “Get some rest. I’m sure we’ll have more to discuss soon.”

You nodded, ready to leave the debrief behind you. The tension had been thick in the room, and now that the mission was officially over, you couldn’t wait to take a breath without everyone’s eyes on you.

Logan, however, didn’t move immediately. He turned his head toward you, that familiar, unreadable expression on his face. “You coming?” he asked, his voice low and casual.

You nodded again, standing up. The two of you started toward the door when Jean’s voice stopped you.

“Hold up, Y/N,” she called. “I need to talk to you for a second.”

Marie, who had been standing by the door, gave you a knowing look. Logan glanced at you, his expression unreadable, before shrugging. “I’ll be outside.” He gave you space to handle this, but the shift in the air was undeniable. You felt a wave of unease wash over you.

You hadn’t expected Jean and Marie to corner you after the debrief, but here you were, sitting across from them in the hallway just outside the conference room. You felt the weight of their gaze, the silent question hanging between you.

Jean, always the more subtle one, folded her arms, her smile just a little too knowing. "So," she started, her voice smooth and casual. "How’s everything going? You and Logan, I mean."

You stiffened, caught off guard. Your heart thudded in your chest, and for a moment, you found yourself lost for words. “Uh, it’s good,” you said, your tone a little too light, betraying the nervous flutter in your stomach. “You know, the mission’s over, so...”

Marie raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smirk. “Yeah, sure,” she said, her tone dripping with that playful sarcasm you’d come to recognize. "It’s just... y’all seem real comfortable around each other, huh? A bit more than just teammates, wouldn’t you say?”

I guess they were really buying it now. This is good.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, what do you mean?”

Marie’s eyes glinted mischievously as she crossed her arms, leaning in just a bit. “Oh, come on, sugar. You two were pretty cozy back there. I’m just sayin’.” She tilted her head in a way that made it clear she was teasing, but there was an edge to her tone that made your heart race, a sudden panic crawling up your spine.

Jean smirked, sensing the discomfort in your response. "I was reviewing the comms from the last mission— must be something going on between you two.” Her voice was lighthearted, but there was something about the way she said it—acting like a couple, that made your chest tighten. You knew she wanted to get something out of you.

You laughed nervously, brushing it off. “It's nothing like that, really. We're just—just getting the job done, you know?” Your voice was a little too fast, a little too defensive.

Marie raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth quaking upward. “Mhm, I bet. But you can’t deny the vibes, sugar.” She shot a glance at Jean before continuing, her tone more teasing. “Just like how Scott’s been all mopey over Jean lately... though, we all got our own little dynamics going on.”

Jean nodded, the smile never quite fading. “You and Logan, Scott and I, and—” she paused, glancing at Marie, “Remy...and Marie. It’s funny how these things just...happen, huh?” Her words had a casual air, but you could tell she was trying to gauge your reaction.

You felt your throat tighten at the mention of Remy.

Gambit. 

Right. 

You knew you were technically pretending to be with Logan, but hearing it brought you back to reality. You weren't a real couple. You just had to keep reminding yourself of that. But... the way they were talking about their relationships so casually, it felt so much more real.

Marie’s smile softened a bit as she leaned in closer. “It’s okay, sugar. You don’t have to have it all figured out with him right away. Just take your time. I mean, things with Logan can be... complicated.”

Jean nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Logan’s not the easiest to figure out, I know. But he’s got a good heart under all that stubbornness. Just... don’t be afraid to let him in when you’re ready.”

You forced a smile, nodding in agreement even though your thoughts were racing. Pretend. Right. You had to keep it together, keep up the act, even though it was becoming harder to distinguish the lines between reality and the mission.

“Thanks,” you said, clearing your throat. “But it’s really nothing. Just... keeping things professional.”

Marie winked, still teasing. “Alright, sugar. But if you do decide to make it more than just a mission thing, you know where to find me.” Her tone was playful, but there was a softness in it too, a subtle kindness you appreciated.

As you, Jean, and Marie finally parted ways, heading off in different directions, you took a breath, trying to shake the awkwardness that had settled in the pit of your stomach, and made your way to the door.

As you stepped out into the hallway, you spotted Logan just a few paces ahead, his back to you as he walked toward the staircase. He must have been waiting for you, or maybe just lingering after the meeting, but either way, you appreciated his presence to stick around.

“Hey,” you called out, your voice slightly strained as you reached him.

He turned slightly, the hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “How’d it go?” His eyes flicked toward you, searching your face with an intensity that made your heart beat a little faster.

You paused, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “It went... fine.” You tried to keep your tone casual, but something in the way you spoke betrayed the uncertainty you felt. “They’re just curious about us.” You couldn't help but add the last part with a slight edge, as if the mere mention of it made your insides twist.

Logan’s brow furrowed, his usual unreadable expression faltering just a bit. “Curious?” His voice was low, like he was still trying to process exactly what that meant.

You nodded, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah, well... they think we’re actually a thing. Jean was all smiles, and Marie...” You trailed off, shaking your head as if it would help shake away the unease. “It was just a lot of teasing, I guess.”

A slight chuckle escaped Logan’s lips, and he glanced over at you, his expression unreadable but laced with something... almost like amusement. “You didn’t say anything, did you?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not,” you said, perhaps a little too quickly, but you quickly recovered. “Just enough to keep them satisfied.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he pushed himself off the wall, taking a step closer to you. “Yeah, well, it’s working, I guess,” he said, his voice just a little quieter now, a little less casual. He paused, watching you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher. “But maybe we should kick it up a notch, huh?”

You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “Kick it up a notch?”

Maybe it was a joke, or maybe it wasn’t. You couldn’t tell.

You swallowed, trying to keep your cool, but something about the way he looked at you stirred something beneath the surface. “Well, I wouldn’t mind,” you said, your voice a little quieter than you intended, as your faces grew uncomfortably close.

Logan’s smirk faltered just for a moment, and you could feel the shift in the air around you. He didn’t immediately respond, the space between you both suddenly charged with something you weren’t sure you were ready for. He blinked, almost surprised, but then leaned back with a casual shrug as if to shake it off.

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, eyes narrowed, “I guess it wouldn't hurt.”

 His tone wasn’t as teasing as it would have been, which was a bit unexpected in your eyes. You tried not to think much of it. This was a fake relationship, after all. 

For a moment, neither of you moved. Your faces were so close now that you could feel the heat of his breath, your pulse racing in your ears. Logan held your gaze, and you saw that flicker of something deeper. Something that didn’t quite match the playful tone of his words.

But, just as quickly as it appeared, he brushed it aside with a half-hearted wink and a shrug. "Guess we’ll figure it out as we go along, huh?"

You nodded, a quiet tension still hanging in the air. As he turned and walked toward the stairs, you lingered, fighting the urge to follow him, the strange weight of the moment heavy on your chest.

One thing was for sure; things were definitely not as simple as they seemed anymore.

And though you couldn’t pinpoint what specifically, it was there.

chapter 7 - what we share

You watched Logan retreat upstairs until he disappeared around the corner, the faint scent of cigars along with it. The rest of the team had either gone to bed, or disappeared into their own corners of the mansion, leaving you alone with your thoughts. It was strange, how a place so full of people could feel so empty. You didn’t want to sleep just yet, your mind wide awake from the teasing Jean and Rogue had done just minutes ago. Lost in thought, you heard your stomach grumble.

A snack sounded better than staring at the ceiling for hours.

The mansion was quiet, save for the occasional creak of old wood settling. You reached to open the fridge, it's cold light spilling over shelves of leftovers and mismatched condiments. You grabbed a soda and some crackers, shutting the door with a quiet thud.

The voice startled you, making you jump slightly. You turned to find Logan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, that unreadable look still firmly planted in his eyes. The surprise faded into a familiar calm.

“You always raid the kitchen this late?”

The voice startled you, and you turned to find Logan leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, that same unreadable look in his eyes.

“I thought you just went upstairs?” you replied, keeping your tone light. “What’s your excuse?”

He smirked faintly, stepping inside. “I don’t really sleep. Figured I’d hang with you instead.”

You raised an eyebrow, popping open the soda. “That your way of saying you’re hungry?”

Logan shrugged, grabbing an apple from the counter. “Maybe. The girls kept you wide awake, huh?”

You hesitated, the soda can cooling your hand. “More like the mission from today,” you admitted, leaning back against the counter. “Feels like I’m still out there, you know? Like my body made it back, but my head didn’t.”

Logan nodded, grabbing an apple from a nearby bowl of fruits, biting it hard. “It’s normal. First few times, it messes with you. Then it just...sticks with you differently.”

“Comforting,” you said dryly, and he chuckled.

Before either of you could say more, another voice broke the moment.

“You two always this chatty at midnight, or am I just lucky?”

You turned to see Scott standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, a disapproving tilt to his head.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Relax, Summers. We’re not plannin’ a coup.”

Scott gave a slight smirk but didn’t lighten much. “So are you two... a thing now?” he asked, his tone playful but still searching. "Or just the late-night hangout type?"

You felt a sudden awkwardness settle in the room, and Logan’s posture stiffened for a moment before he smirked, looking back at you to respond.

“A bit of both.” you replied, your voice a little quieter than you intended. You glanced at Logan, unsure of how much to say, or if you even wanted to say anything at all. The last thing you wanted was to dive into an explanation that neither you nor Logan had figured out yet.

Logan’s eyes flickered to yours. "Yeah, something like that."

 “Right. Well, if you’re both done with your midnight snack, and well...cracking your little situation, the danger room isn't going to run itself tomorrow.” He looked at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

He left without another word, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

Logan finished his apple, tossing the core into the trash. “He means well,” he said, almost grudgingly.

“Yeah,” you said, setting your soda down, taking a bite of some crackers. “Doesn’t make it any less annoying sometimes.”

Logan smirked, pushing off the counter. “Well, you heard the man. Get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“I will.” you replied, taking a small sip of your soda once again. You noticed Logan’s expression, lost in thought about something in particular. He stood near the hallway door, contemplating going on with his own endeavors, or staying with you. Either way, it was obvious the two of you weren’t planning to go sleep anytime soon. Not yet. 

“So, speaking of cracks,” you began, the words coming out slower than you expected. “You ever had anyone, you know, break through yours?”

Logan’s eyebrow twitched. “What, you mean, like, past loves?” His tone was neutral, almost shaking his head back to reality.

You nodded, curious but not pushing. “Yeah. It doesn’t have to be deep or anything. Just... someone who actually made you feel like you were seen, I guess.”

Logan glanced down at his feet, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment. He didn’t respond immediately, but you didn’t expect him to. Logan wasn’t exactly one for talking about his past.

Eventually, he let out a breath, his voice quiet. “Yeah, a few. Doesn’t last long, though. When you’ve lived through what I have, it’s hard to let anyone in too close.”

You gave him a sidelong glance, your lips curling into a small grin. “Yeah, I get that. But it’s funny, still willing to fake date someone, even with all that baggage.”

Logan’s eyes flickered toward you, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might have been a smile if he wasn’t so stubborn. “Don’t read too much into that,” he muttered.

“I’m just saying,” you teased, leaning against the counter with a raised eyebrow. “If you can pull that off, maybe letting someone in isn’t as impossible as you make it sound.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement there, just barely. “Fake dating is a hell of a lot easier than the real thing,” he grumbled, clearly trying to avoid admitting anything deeper.

“Sure, but it’s still a step,” you shot back with a shrug. “Maybe next time you won’t need a cover story.”

Logan paused at the cabinet door, hand on the handle, probably to get another snack, but he didn’t open it right away. He looked over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You seem pretty sure about all this relationship stuff now," he said, voice low and teasing. "Didn't know you were such an expert."

You chuckled, leaning back against the counter with your arms crossed. "Oh, I'm not," you replied, giving a small shrug. "Just trying to figure it out. I mean, we all have our baggage, right?"

Logan’s eyes darkened slightly, and he stepped closer again, almost instinctively closing the distance between you two. There was a shift in his gaze, a flicker of something else, something a little more raw. "Yeah. Baggage," he muttered. 

“I’ve got enough to fill a warehouse,” he added, for a short moment; his voice still rough, but edged with a dark humor. "Doesn't mean I’m looking for someone to help carry it."

“I understand,” you said quietly, your eyes lowering as you reached for your soda again. You took a small sip, gathering your thoughts. “I’ve got my own baggage too. Probably more than I’d like to admit.”

Logan didn’t say anything, but you could feel his attention on you, steady and unwavering. He let go of the cabinet door, walking slowly to where you were seated. 

“I get why you’d rather keep your distance,” you continued, your voice quieter now, your fingers lingering close to your soda can. “I think... I think I’ve been doing the same thing, just in my own way. Maybe I’ve been keeping people at arm’s length, too.” You met his gaze then, your eyes a little hesitant. “Maybe because I’m scared. Scared of getting hurt again, or worse, scared of realizing I was never really enough in the first place.”

Logan’s gaze softened, just a little, and his lips parted to say something. He hesitantly placed a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re more than enough,” he said, his voice quieter than before, a hint of sincerity lacing his words. The way he looked at you, like he was trying to convey something else without saying it directly— it made your heart skip a beat.

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you just stood there, feeling the weight of his hand, and the moment. There was something about Logan that made you want to let your guard down, to let him see parts of you you refused to show anyone else. Something about the way he didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you, he just let you be you. Authentically you.

It was never like that was Remy. No, not even. You wished.

“So, fake dating aside,” you replied, eyes darting away, interrupting the silence. “Do you ever think about what you’d want... if you actually did date someone? For real, I mean.”

"For romance..." he muttered, as if the word tasted foreign on his tongue. His gaze drifted, not quite meeting yours, as if searching for something in the air between you. He sat beside you now, arms on the table counter. 

"I guess it’s easier when someone’s already... taken, you know?" He finally met your eyes, an expression of something you couldn’t quite place in them. "It’s, well, you care about someone but you don’t have to act on it. Don’t have to figure out all the mess of... well, actually being with them. You can care from a distance, and that feels safer. That’s all." His voice was low, a little rough, but there was no bitterness in it, just a resigned honesty.

You didn’t say anything at first, processing what he’d said. It was a strange admission, and yet it made a twisted kind of sense. Logan had always kept his emotions buried so deeply, so well-hidden, that hearing him open up almost caught you off guard.

He cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. "I’m not saying I’m some kind of martyr or anything. I mean, Scott and Jean have their thing. I’ve got my... Well, whatever the hell this is." He waved his hand vaguely in the space between you jokingly, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. "But yeah, it’s easier that way. You don’t have to deal with the what-ifs, the risks. You just... live in the moment and let it go."

“Sounds like you’ve got it figured out,” you said, chuckling, trying to keep the mood light, but even you could feel the pain of his words. “The whole ‘keep it at a distance’ thing.”

Logan’s lips curled into a small, humorless smile, but there was a hint of sadness in it, too. “Figured out? Nah.” He leaned forward slightly, his elbows on his knees, still looking at you with that same unguarded look. “It’s just... easier to not feel too much. You know?” His voice was quieter now, and for a moment, you thought he might say more.

You didn’t push. You didn’t need to. You understood. You both had your own ways of coping, your own defenses, and the idea of letting anyone in too close felt dangerous. Too uncertain.

"Yeah," you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips despite the heaviness of the moment. "I get that. It’s easier to... not care too much, right?"

“If I care too much, they’ll get hurt in some way. Ain’t easy, letting someone in."

"Well,” you paused. “I still think the right person would help with the mess. Maybe it doesn’t have to be so...scary. More of just being there when things get messy."

For a moment, there was silence, and you both sat there. Logan’s eyes softened, just a fraction, and you saw the smallest shift in his expression. It wasn’t much, but it was there, something opening up, if only for a moment.

"Maybe," he said quietly, looking down at his hands. "But for now, I think I’m good with the fake dating thing."

“Yeah,” you said, your voice soft with a quiet understanding. “For now, we’re good.”

Logan stood up slowly, stretching his shoulders with a quiet grunt. "Well, we’ll see what the future holds," he said, his smirk returning, though it was lighter this time. "Get some sleep. Don’t forget about tomorrow.”

You nodded, your smile faint but genuine. "Yeah, I won’t, don’t worry. Thanks, Logan."

He gave you a small nod before turning toward the door. As his footsteps echoed down the hall, you stayed in the kitchen for a while longer. You never realized how easy everything was with Logan. You understood each other a bit too well.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

chapter 8 - what we break

The early morning silence greeted you as you pulled yourself out of bed. You stifled a yawn, stretching as the cool air nipped at your skin. Training day. No missions, no more disasters, just time in the danger room, blowing off some steam without needing to worry about anything else.

You moved through your routine, pulling on your workout gear and splashing cold water on your face to wake up properly. Training days weren’t always your favorite, but they offered a sense of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic life. At least, that's what you said, confronted by anyone who didn’t understand.

That optimism is what carried you all the way to the Danger Room. Standing in thought with your earphones in. As the doors hissed open, your steps faltered when you caught sight of who was already there.

Logan.

And Remy.

They were sparring in the center of the room, their movements fluid yet calculated, each step and strike of power and precision. Logan's growls punctuated the sharp clash of their practice weapons, while Remy’s easy smirk didn’t falter, even as he narrowly dodged an incoming blow.

Your stomach dropped.

Before you could run off before they noticed, Remy caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye and called out, “Morning, chère. You here to watch or join in the fun?”

You held out one of your earphones and froze, like a deer caught in headlights. Words failed you as your brain scrambled to come up with something, anything—that wouldn’t make you seem out of place.

Logan’s head turned at Remy’s greeting, his sharp gaze locking on you. His expression was neutral, but something about the slight tilt of his head made it feel like he was sizing you up.

“Oh, uh—yeah,” you stammered, stepping further inside before you could talk yourself into running the other way. “Thought I’d... get some training in.”

Remy straightened, tossing the staff he’d been holding to his other hand with a cocky flourish. “Perfect timing, non? We could use a fresh pair of eyes. Logan’s got his claws out today.”

You laughed awkwardly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Logan grunted, brushing past Remy and heading to the weapons rack. “You just gonna stand there or jump in, bub?”

Before you could respond, another voice chimed in.

“Well, this is going to be good,” Morph’s familiar voice drawled from the corner. They were leaning against the wall, arms crossed, their mischievous grin on full display. Clearly, they've been watching the whole thing, and from the look on their face, they weren't planning on missing a second of what was about to unfold.

You threw Morph a glare, but it only made them grin wider. Great. An audience.

“Uh, I’m good for now,” you said quickly, waving a hand. “Just warming up.”

You moved to the farthest available spot on the mat, your face heating under the weight of Logan’s and Remy’s lingering gazes. As you stretched, you could feel Morph’s eyes on you, too, like they were silently narrating every awkward twitch and stumble in your movements.

Trying to ignore them, you dropped into a stretch, but your limbs felt stiff, and your balance was off. Every now and then, you caught snippets of the sparring behind you. Remy’s smooth banter clashed with Logan’s gruff responses, the sound of their training weapons striking echoing through the room.

“Keep up, old man,” Remy quipped, his voice light as he sidestepped one of Logan’s swipes with infuriating ease.

Logan snorted, stepping forward with a calculated swing that nearly clipped Remy’s side. “Watch yourself. I’m just warmin’ up.”

You winced, fumbling mid-stretch. Morph’s muffled laugh caught your ear, and you shot them another look over your shoulder.

“What?” they asked innocently, though his smirk said otherwise.

“You’re distracting,” you muttered, focusing on your stretches again.

They chuckled, leaning casually against the wall. “I’m not the one completely flushed out.”

“I’m not flushed,” you snapped under your breath, though the evidence was plainly there.

Morph snickered, their ability to make you squirm practically a superpower in itself. “Sure, sure. And I’m not morphing into Gambit to test your poker face next.”

You groaned internally, pretending to ignore them as you tried to focus on the stretches. The sharp clang of Logan’s claws retracting pulled your attention for a brief second, and you couldn’t help but glance over.

Logan, as ever, was no-nonsense, brushing off one of Remy’s quips as he grabbed a towel from the bench. But when his gaze flicked toward you, sharp and assessing, your heart stumbled. Did he know how awkward and embarrassing this felt? Being forced to be with the guy you maybe still liked, along with your fake boyfriend?

 He probably smelled it. 

“Looks like she’s gonna warm up all morning,” Logan remarked gruffly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward just slightly. “You plan on actually doin’ anything, princess? Or you gonna keep flailin’ over there?”

Your head snapped toward Logan at the jab, and your hands dropped to your sides, clearly annoyed. 

"I’m stretching. It’s called preparation. Maybe you should try it sometime."

Remy’s laugh rang out before Logan could reply, a smooth, teasing chuckle that grated on your already frayed nerves. "You keep talkin’ like that, you’ll rile him up more than me."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you glanced between the two of them. "You’re both impossible."

“Aw, don’t be like that," Remy said, stepping closer, his ever-present smirk softening just a touch. "We’re just havin’ a little fun. No harm, non?"

You forced yourself to stay still, but every inch of your body wanted to react. Remy’s words felt like a mockery. Your stomach twisted from all of it. There was something in the way his tone lingered, in the flicker of his red eyes towards Logan, that made your blood simmer. 

You then turned towards Logan, of why you’d roped him into this in the first place. Gambit, Remy, the one who had broken your heart, had stood you up weeks prior, leaving you feeling small and humiliated. The worst part? He didn’t even seem to remember. But you did.

Meanwhile, Logan's expression was as unreadable as ever. Carved from stone, he gave away nothing, and yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else. Was he irritated? Amused? Or was it something else entirely? Whatever it was, it only bothered you more.

You gritted your teeth, stretching through the awkwardness while Logan and Gambit lingered too close for comfort.Remy was still smirking like he was in on some private joke, and Logan, for all his gruffness, didn’t seem to mind the tension he’d stirred up. You stole a glance at Morph, who, to his credit, had the decency to mime zipping his lips after Logan’s warning, but his eyes still sparkled with mischief.

With a sharp inhale, you pushed yourself up from your stretch and took a step toward Logan. “You’re right,” you said loud enough to catch both of their attention. “I should stop warming up and actually do something.”

Logan raised a brow, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his expression. His arms were crossed, his posture relaxed, but there was a tension in his gaze, like he was waiting to see just what you were up to.

With deliberate steps, you closed the space between yourself and Logan. His expression shifted slightly, confusion mixed with curiosity, his body stiffening just enough for you to notice. When you stopped in front of him, his brow furrowed further.

Despite the rapid pounding of your heart, you reached up, cupping the edge of his jaw lightly with one hand, and pressed your lips to his.

The world seemed to still for that brief moment. His lips were firm but warm, slightly chapped, with a roughness that was distinctly Logan. The kiss was soft, unhurried, and intentional. You allowed yourself to linger just long enough to make it convincing, feeling the way his breath hitched almost imperceptibly, the slight tension in his shoulders as though he wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

When you pulled away, his eyes were on you, sharper than ever, and his lips parted just enough to give you the satisfaction of having caught him off guard. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of surprise, intrigue, and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“I’ve changed my mind about joining you two. I’m going for a run.”

You didn’t dare glance back at Logan as you strode toward Gambit, who looked as though someone had just yanked the rug out from under him. His smirk faltered for a split second, just long enough for you to savor the moment. But he recovered quickly, twirling his staff and tilting his head at you as you walked out.

Behind you, Morph let out a low whistle, clearly delighted by the sudden shift in the room’s energy. Logan said nothing, but you could feel his gaze burning into the back of your neck. If you focused hard enough, you might’ve been able to hear the faintest scoff.

As you headed to the outer yard of the X-Mansion, you couldn’t bring yourself to just run just yet. Your mind was still stuck on what happened in the Danger Room. The moment with Logan. The kiss. It felt like an impulsive decision, one that hadn't really been thought through, but in a way, it had felt right.

Mind racing, you were still standing outside the mansion, the weight of what you’d done sinking in. The morning air did nothing to settle your thoughts, only sharpening the confusion swirling in your head. What the hell had you been thinking? You didn’t even have a chance to understand it before your body had already moved. Shaking your head, you walked back inside, your footsteps heavy on the floor.

You’d barely made it to the hallway when you heard the unmistakable heavy footfalls behind you. The sound of Logan’s boots on the floor echoed loudly, and you could feel his presence long before he spoke.

“Thought you were goin’ for a run,” Logan’s voice cut through the silence, low and tinged. He was obviously pissed.

You didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. 

“Changed my mind,” you muttered, your pace never slowing as you reached for your keys. Your mind raced, but you kept your gaze straight ahead, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

His footsteps quickened, cutting the distance between you in two long strides until you reached the door to your room. You didn’t stop, but the sound of Logan’s voice, low and tense, made your heart stutter.

“Why the hell’d you do that?” he demanded. 

You finally stopped, but only to face him with your back against the door, your body tensing at the proximity. He stood there, eyes narrowed, like he was waiting for you to crack. His jaw was clenched, and there was an almost predatory tension in his stance.

“You were the one who wanted to kick things up a notch,” you replied. No matter how sarcastic you may have sounded, it was honest.

Logan’s expression flickered, something close to frustration flashing in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, barely retracting as he crossed his arms. “That was never what I had in mind.”

You raised an eyebrow, and despite everything, a slight smirk tugged at your lips. “I’m not the one who started sparring with Remy. The last person I want to see. You didn’t exactly make it easy to just sit back and watch.”

He stepped closer, just enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. His gaze flickered down to your lips for a fraction of a second before locking back onto your eyes. It was intimidating, and you held yourself back from trying to look away.

“I didn't need you to make me look like an idiot,” he muttered, voice low, almost rougher than usual.

You stood there, back pressed against the door, heart pounding in your chest as Logan’s presence loomed just inches away. The room felt smaller with every second that passed in silence.

You heard his voice, low and rough as he leaned in to repeat himself. “Why’d you kiss me?”

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke. “I didn’t kiss you to mess with your head, Logan.” Your voice was steady now, no sarcasm, no defensiveness; just raw honesty. “But you’re the one who... made me think something else was going on.”

Logan scoffed, that almost sounded like a laugh, while shaking his head taking a step back. “Oh really? The same way you thought you had something else with Gambit?”

“What the fuck, Logan?”

The words caught in your throat, your breath quickening as the sting of his accusation hit harder than you expected. You pushed yourself off the door, taking a step toward him, your voice tight with disbelief. “Don’t you put that on me,” you snapped, pointing a finger to his chest. “You agreed to this.”

“You’re right, I did,” he replied, his eyes burning with something between anger and confusion, maybe even a hint of jealousy. “But you’re the one stuck in some damn fantasy of what could’ve been with that...cajun." 

“I’m not the one pretending like something’s going to happen with Jean.” The words were out before you could stop it.

Logan’s expression hardened in an instant, and the room seemed to freeze. His jaw clenched, muscles tensing under the strain of what you just said. You could feel the air crackling with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy between you both.

He stepped back, looking at you as if you’d just struck him with something harder than your words. “You think that’s what this is about?” he spat, voice low and dangerous. “You think it’s about her?”

You didn’t back down, your own frustration burning. “Isn’t it?” you shot back, your voice cutting through the thick silence. “You’re stuck in some fantasy about her, too. Hell, everyone can see it. But don’t act like I’m the only one holding onto something that isn’t real.”

Logan let out a sharp exhale, his fingers gripping the edge of his coat, fighting to keep his cool. His eyes, though, were wild now, full of something you couldn’t quite define. “I’m not you,” he growled, the words coming out rough. “I don’t make mistakes like you. I don’t...” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

You took a step toward him, your eyes never leaving his. “And what? You think you’re the only one capable of making mistakes?” you shot back, your voice bitter. “Maybe we’re just not meant to have what we want. Because they could care less, to even bother giving a shit about us.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel the anger, the disappointment of what you’d just thrown into the air. Logan stood there, his chest heaving, and for a moment, neither of you knew what to say.

He finally broke the silence, his voice quieter but no less intense. “I never said I wanted her,” he muttered, staring at the floor for a moment before looking back at you. His expression was as callous as ever, but the way he stared you down; he couldn’t say it himself, but his eyes could.

Your eyes softened from his answer, but the lump in your throat practically stopped you from giving a response. It didn’t help that your head was pounding from how chaotic your nerves had been turned over. Logan let out a frustrated sigh as you had nothing left to say, from his subtleness, and took a step back. His eyes were still on you, but there was a certain finality to his gaze now, something cold and resolute that you weren’t ready to face.

“Forget it,” he muttered, voice clipped, his face unreadable. “Whatever this is—whatever we are—it's done. I’m done.”

Before you could say another word, he turned and walked toward the door, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. You stood there for what felt like an eternity, the weight of the argument crashing down, the finality of it all, and the overwhelming ache in your chest settled deep into your bones.

And god, you hated it.

chapter 9 - what we mend

The days had dragged on like an unending weight. Each glance between you and Logan felt like a punch to the gut, both of you stiffening the moment the other entered the room. You didn’t even need to look at him to know he was avoiding you; his silence was louder than any words could have been. The same could be said for you. It was easier this way. Or so you told yourself.

Since that morning in the danger room, when your lips had lingered a fraction too long on his, everything had become... complicated. What had been a simple, calculated arrangement of a fake relationship, the harmless flirtation, was now tangled in a mess of confusing emotions. Neither of you had addressed it, but the tension between you had only grown thicker.

At dinner, you had barely looked up from your plate. Every time you did, you’d catch Logan glancing in your direction only to quickly look away. His eyes were stormy, unreadable, and it frustrated you more than anything. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d actually spoken to him, at least not without a stilted awkwardness between you.

The team noticed, of course. Marie, with her usual sharp eyes, had raised an eyebrow at the silent distance between you two. "You two been fightin’ or something?" she’d asked, but you’d merely shrugged, offering a vague response that did little to explain the situation.

Now, as the evening wore on and the mansion fell quiet, the tension was unbearable. The silence in your room felt suffocating, tossing and turning in your bed; and no matter how much you tried to focus on something—anything—to distract yourself, your thoughts kept wandering back to Logan. The way his lips had felt on yours. 

But the line had already been crossed. And you didn’t want to cross any others. 

With a decisive moment, you stood from your bed, slipping on your socks with a swift motion. You had to see him. You just had to know if this feeling—this damnable, undeniable feeling was mutual, or if you were completely losing your mind. 

Your steps were quiet as you walked down the hall, your heart pounding louder than the sound of your footsteps. You reached Logan’s door, hesitating for only a moment before you knocked. The sound echoed in the silence.

"Who’s there?" His voice came through, rough and thick with the weight of the day.

"It's me," you said, and before you could second-guess yourself, you turned the handle, pushing the door open.

Logan was sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed in his iconic white tank top and bootcut jeans. His posture was rigid, as though he were waiting for something. When his gaze met yours, his eyes darkened, but he didn’t say anything. He took another puff from his cigar, which didn’t help how thick the air was between you both. It was almost as if the room itself was holding its breath.

“What do you want?” he asked in slight annoyance.

 “I don’t know,” you muttered, the words coming out harsher than you intended. 

Logan didn’t move, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a tension in the air, something thick and unspoken. The silence stretched between you both like a taut wire, neither of you wanting to touch it, but neither able to ignore it either.

“You could’ve stayed away,” he said, his voice rough, like he was holding back something he didn’t want to admit.

“I know.” you whispered, a pang of guilt in your tone. “Look, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to push you.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might just brush it off, but then he spoke again, softer now. “It’s not just you.” His eyes flickered, as though searching for something in you, something he wasn’t ready to admit either. “I didn’t mean to snap at you either. It’s just... it’s easier if we both just pretend it didn’t happen.”

You swallowed, the weight of his words pressing against you, making your chest tighten. “It’s not easier,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the thick air between you. "It’s not easier for me."

Logan didn’t respond immediately. His eyes dropped to his cigar for a moment, a slight frown tugging at the corner of his lips. He exhaled, letting the smoke curl into the air, his gaze returning to you, but this time there was something different in his eyes. Something that softened the hardness you’d seen earlier.

“Then why the hell are we still doing this?” he asked, his voice low, rough with something that almost sounded like frustration. “Why are we still pretending if it’s this complicated?”

You took a step closer, your pulse quickening with the proximity. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

“I don’t know," you muttered, your voice barely a whisper. "But I can't stop thinking about it—about you. I can’t keep pretending it was just nothing." You looked up, your gaze meeting his, finding him waiting for something, something you couldn’t name.

For a long beat, neither of you moved. Logan’s gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, his jaw tight, as though fighting something inside him. Then, almost imperceptibly, he shifted forward on the bed, a breath escaping him as if he were finally deciding to let go of whatever restraint he’d been holding onto.

“You’re not the only one,” he muttered, his voice rougher now, barely above a whisper. “I’ve been tryin’ to ignore it, but... hell, you make it hard to forget.”

You took a breath, stepping closer, your body drawn toward him against your better judgment. You could feel the heat between you, the crackling tension that had been building for days now, impossible to ignore any longer.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t mean to make things so damn complicated.

Logan’s eyes softened, just slightly, and his hand reached out, brushing the back of your fingers with his. The contact sent a shock through you, like electricity, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let him close the gap between you.

“Not your fault,” he said, his voice thick, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “It’s me too. I’m... I’m not good at this shit. But I—” His words faltered, his eyes searching yours for something, anything. “I can’t pretend either.”

You didn’t give him the chance to say anything else. You pulled him toward you, crashing your lips against his. The kiss was hungry, desperate, full of all the unspoken feelings you’d been trying to ignore for so long. Logan’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, as if afraid to let you slip away.

You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. All the confusion, the frustration, the longing—it boiled over in a wave of heat that left you breathless. His lips were firm against yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn’t matter. The only thing that existed was the storm between you both, the undeniable pull that had always been there, buried beneath layers of doubt and distance.

When you finally broke away, you were both gasping for air. Logan’s forehead rested against yours, his hands still holding you close as if he needed to keep you tethered to him.

"Shit, I...that didn’t help, did it..." you whispered, your voice shaky, but a faint smile tugged at your lips. You didn’t know if it was a question or a statement, but it didn’t matter.

Logan’s laugh was low and rough, the sound a mixture of frustration and amusement. "No, but I figured as much." he said, but his eyes were still on you, intense, searching for something.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them, your hands lingering on his chest to keep a certain distance. "I—"

Before you could finish, Logan’s lips were on yours again, cutting off any further words. This time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just need. 

“Shut up.”

His hands moved from your waist to your thighs, gripping you with a possessiveness that made your heart race. The way he touched you felt urgent, almost frantic, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath the fabric of his tank top, and you pushed yourself closer, needing more of him. His lips were rough against yours, parting briefly for a breath, but you didn’t give him the chance to pull away. You kissed him harder, deeper, as if trying to erase all the space that had ever existed between you.

Logan’s fingers dug into your thighs, lifting you slightly as he pulled you closer, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that left you breathless. You could feel the heat of him through the fabric, and it made every nerve in your body hum with need. His grip on your thighs was firm, possessive, as if he was claiming you in a way that was both comforting and maddening. The way his hands moved, pulling you closer and closer, left you feeling dizzy, lost in the feel of him.

His lips traveled down to your jaw, and you gasped, a shiver running through your body at the feel of his breath on your skin. You couldn’t stop the way your hands wandered, exploring the hard planes of his chest and shoulders, wanting to touch every part of him. His scent, the warmth of his skin, the feel of his rough hands—it was all too much, and yet it wasn’t enough.

You let him take off your shirt, urging him to do the same, and one thing led onto the next.

Logan's hands slid up your sides, his touch firm but gentle, as if he were memorizing every curve of your body. You felt the steady rhythm of his breath against your skin, his lips trailing soft kisses along your collarbone. Each kiss ignited something deep within you, a rush of warmth that spread through every part of you. You moved closer, your hands instinctively reaching for his back, your fingertips grazing the muscles beneath his jeans.

His breath hitched slightly as your fingers brushed the waistband of his jeans, his body tensing at the touch. You could feel the intensity rising between you, the need in his movements, in the way his lips ghosted over yours before finally capturing them again. The kiss was deeper this time, more urgent, as though everything in the world had narrowed down to this single moment.

You pulled back just slightly, your chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to steady yourself. “Logan...” you breathed, your voice shaky as you searched his eyes, trying to read the same urgency, the same longing that mirrored your own. But there was still hesitation there, just beneath the surface. Still, neither of you moved, too tangled in the heat of the moment to do anything but breathe each other in.

His hand slid down your back, resting against the curve of your hip, fingers lightly gripping the fabric of your pants. He pulled you closer again, the intensity of his touch making your pulse quicken. “I know,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Me too.”

And the rest? It could only be described as bliss.

chapter 10 - what we confess

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the warmth. Strong, steady, and unfamiliar in the best possible way. It wasn’t just the weight of the blanket cocooning you or the soft glow of morning light spilling through the curtains. It was him.

And you were in his bed.

Logan’s arm draped across your waist, his fingers loosely splayed over your stomach as though even in sleep, he refused to let you go. His chest pressed against your back, the soft rhythm of his breathing stirring the fine hairs at the nape of your neck.

For a moment, you didn’t move. You didn’t even breathe, afraid that the slightest shift would shatter the fragile peace of the morning. You let yourself sink into it, let yourself feel safe, for once, in the quiet intimacy of it all.

Then his voice, low in a whisper, broke the silence. “You awake?”

You turned your head slightly, catching his sleepy gaze. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and there was a faint crease on his cheek from the pillow. It was so endearingly Logan, so unlike the composed version everyone else saw, that it made your chest ache.

“Yeah,” you whispered, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Logan’s lips twitched into a lazy grin. “Good. Thought I might’ve crushed you in my sleep.”

You snorted softly, your fingers reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Not even close. Though you do snore.”

“Snore?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Princess, you’re hearing things.”

“Sure,” you teased. “You sounded like a chainsaw. A grumpy one.”

A chuckle rumbled low in his chest, and he tightened his arm around your waist slightly. “Guess I was too comfortable. Not used to sleeping next to someone who doesn’t wake me up kickin’ in their sleep.”

“Don’t test me,” you said with a mock glare, but your smile betrayed you.

His grin widened as he propped himself up on his elbow. “Noted.”

It was a strange kind of comfort, lying tangled together without the unspoken words or half-faked plans hanging over you. But the comfort didn’t last. The two of you had hardly gotten any words out last night, and reality, as always, had a way of creeping back in.

Logan shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you. His gaze softened, the usual storminess of his eyes replaced with something warmer, something gentler. “We gotta talk.”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. We do.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the words you both needed to say hanging heavy in the air. Finally, Logan broke the silence.

“This whole fake-dating thing,” he started, his voice measured, “I didn’t think much of it at first. Figured it’d be a pain in the ass, but... I don’t know. Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling fake.” He paused, his hand brushing yours lightly. “At least for me.”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away, the weight of his words settling in your chest. “Logan...”

“I know,” he said, cutting you off gently. “I know you were hung up on Remy. And hell, I thought I was hung up on Jean. But the truth is…”

Logan hesitated, his jaw tightening as he searched for the right words.

“She was someone I thought I wanted,” he said, his voice quieter now, like he was speaking more to himself than to you. He glanced away for a beat, exhaling softly, before meeting your gaze again. “But... it was never real. Not like this.”

“This?” you asked softly, your heart thudding in your chest.

“This,” he confirmed, his hand finding yours and curling around it. “You. Us.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you found yourself struggling to speak.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out?” he added, his voice softer now. “How hard it was to just... stand by while you kept lookin’ at him like he was everything?”

Your chest tightened, his words stirring something deep inside you. “I—”

“Don’t,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “Don’t say anything you’re not ready to say. Just... be honest with yourself. With me.”

You bit your lip, your eyes dropping to where his hand rested against your cheek. “I don’t think I love him anymore,” you admitted quietly, your voice trembling with the weight of the words. “I thought I did. For so long, I thought I’d never get over him. But now...” You looked back up at Logan, your eyes meeting his. “I can’t imagine myself without you.”

Logan’s lips quivered into a small, almost disbelieving smile. “Good,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “’Cause you’ve been driving me crazy, darlin’. Watching you smile, hearing you laugh... it’s all I’ve wanted for a while now.”

A small laugh escaped you, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his lips brushing yours lightly. “But I don’t mind. Not with you.”

The kiss that followed was slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to the desperation of the night before. This wasn’t about drowning in the moment. It was about finding something real, something worth holding onto. When it finally broke, your foreheads stayed pressed together, both of you breathing in the shared space.

“So, what now?” you asked softly.

Logan smirked. “Guess we stop pretending.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “You in?”

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “Yeah. I’m in.”

And as his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you’d already found it.

[lailols]

Kai's Pretty Girlfriend [2]: Step Two

Hueningkai x Reader, eventual OT5 x Reader [3k ish words] masterlist

Warnings: thigh riding, kinda mean dom kai, sub reader, unprotected sex, dub con (Kai does things under the assumption that since the guys like the reader, they won't mind and while he's right, he still doesn't ask for consent), exhibitionism, voyeurism

Movie nights are a bit of a sacred tradition between the six of you. The only reason they work so well with your busy schedules is because you all make an effort to spend time together. It might seem silly, but you all push through fatigue and a promise of a good night sleep if it means you’ll spend even just two hours with each other. So maybe Kai should feel a little more remorseful for tainting them.

It’s for the greater good! He thinks to himself as he lets his hands travel down the front of your body under the blanket covering the two of you. Making sure to stop at your covered tits to give them some love. Pinching and pulling them through your shirt just a bit before traveling lower. You’re ever so pliant for him. He tells himself it’s because you’re such a good girl but he knows it’s probably because of the four guys sitting right next to you.

Well, right next to you is a bit of an exaggeration. You and Kai take the loveseat as the resident love birds while the guys pile onto the couch. They could very well see what’s going on if not for the action movie playing on the TV. Kai should probably know what it is, but he didn’t even bother to pay attention when they explained the two-part series because he knew he’d have more pressing matters to attend to. Namely, you.

He decides he should have some decorum, at least at the start. It’ll be no fun if you’re found out so soon after all. He just lets his hand wander under the blanket and your skirt to check what he already knows. Of course, you’re wet for him. Knowing you, you’ve been wet since you got to the dorm for the movie night. Kai was not secretive about the things he wanted to do to you, making sure to strip you of your panties and work you open for him as soon as he got his hands on you.

But that just makes this all the more fun. He keeps you still on his lap through the first movie but doesn’t let you rest. Instead, he trails his hands up and down your waist, sometimes letting them go up to fondle your tits some more and sometimes letting them go lower fluttering around but never where you need him most.

About halfway through the second movie, he turns you around on his lap, making sure to keep the blanket in place. You go willingly, letting him manhandle you into a different position and just tuck your head onto his shoulder with your face turned out to the TV. No doubt, it's a very uncomfortable position, but you don’t whine or complain. But Kai knows you well enough to know that your silence will go away very soon.

He takes a glance at the guys to see what they’re up to and finds them all glued to the screen. It seems like a fight scene is on and they’re all adamantly watching it. Yeonjun is leaning a bit out of his seat on the couch to see better while Soobin is resting his head on the back of the couch probably fighting sleep. Taehyun and Beomgyu are squished in between the two also fixed on the tv. Kai takes that as being in the clear to continue.

He starts off slow and simply grabs your hips to adjust your position from on his lap to hovering over his thigh. Setting you down and leaning to your ear to whisper, “Go ahead, sweetie. Don’t you wanna get off?”

Your hands twitch where they’re rested between the two of you before moving to his shoulders, squeezing. “But the guys…”

“I don’t think I mentioned them, did I?” He uses his grip to push you down onto his thigh, flexing the muscle. “Isn’t this what you wanted? You were so wet when I checked earlier. I’m not gonna help you out, so get started before I change my mind.”

You mutter something he can’t hear before rolling your hips against him. Shifting your head into his neck to hide your gasp. The rough fabric against your bare cunt doesn’t feel as good as you were hoping but you’re not gonna complain. You start off with a slow movement, too aware of the other people in the room with you.

Your hands flex on Kai's shoulders as you move yourself over his thigh. You quickly soak Kai’s pants which makes you run hot, but it does aid the slide. His flexing every so often also helps, but besides that, he leaves his hands at your hips and doesn't talk to you. It makes you feel so needy and desperate as if he didn't get you like this.

You crave his hands on you. Want his hands to wander down to the crease where your ass meets your thighs and grip. Want him to guide your movements above him like he usually does. Want him to trace your thighs and pinch at your skin while laughing at the tears his touch brings. But since he isn't, it's up to you to bring yourself pleasure, grinding against his thigh while you muffle your sounds against his skin.

You eventually build up a good rhythm that isn’t too noticeable while still working yourself to the edge. But that’s the problem. You’re only on the edge. It feels like you’ve been doing this for so long. Short pants leave your mouth from the effort and you angle your hips just right to rub your clit against his thigh.

But even that doesn’t help much. It feels so good and you know you’ve gotten off with less before, so why is it so hard? You just wanted to come, is that so much to ask? Kai has had you wound up since you walked into the dorm and this could be the sweet relief you needed but of course, it’s not that easy. A grunt of displeasure leaves your lips.

You never liked doing the work, content to let Kai move you as he wishes. Hell, you don’t even like riding him all that much. It doesn’t take much longer before you’re whimpering into his neck and clutching his shoulders, on the verge of tears because your thighs hurt and you’re no closer to coming than you were before all this.

“Kai.” You whisper into his skin. “I can’t. Help me?”

“Of course, you can’t. Dumb thing always needs me to help her out, hm?” Kai makes sure to let out a sigh before moving his hand from your hip to your cunt. He uses two fingers to open your folds and circle your entrance before continuing. “You just can’t help it though, can you? Always need me to make you feel good, right?”

“Need you. Need you.” You agree as you push your hips closer to his hand, urging him to get inside you. “Please. Please? I’ll be good, promise.”

He takes that as the okay to push two fingers into you. You gasp at the intrusion and clench around them. “I can’t help if you do let me in, pretty. I prepped you earlier, loosen up.”

You take a deep breath before relaxing into his hold once again. He mutters a ‘good’ to you before spreading his fingers inside you and thrusting them in and out. You try to keep your sounds down, you really do, but Kai knows how to make you feel good. He knows which parts to prod and press at to have you seeing stars and he doesn’t even try to help you out.

Not even bothering to be nice, instead playing with you in a way that he knows makes you loud. He doesn't bat an eye at how you bite your lip and squeeze his shoulders because he knows you'll be good. Knows you’ll take whatever he gives you and you will, but it’s hard. How can he expect you to be quiet when he’s doing this to you?

“Kai.” You moan out when he pushes his fingers to that spot that makes you feel so so good and grip his shoulders tighter. “I can- you can’t do that.”

“And why not?” He asks as he teases a third finger at your entrance. “I thought you wanted my help, baby. Am I not helping?”

“No, no, you are. Bu-“ You’re cut off by another moan escaping from his movements. “I can’t be quiet like this.”

“You can, baby." He pulls his fingers out to readjust before thrusting three into you with his thumb making a home on your clit. "I know you can be good for me.”

“I can’t.” He presses a kiss to your head, telling you to continue. "Not like this."

“Well, then you’ll just be loud.” His movements get more rough, each time he thrusts his fingers in he spreads them out mapping your core but making sure at least one of them is hitting that spongey spot inside you. “I know that’s what you wanted anyways, hm? Baby needs attention all the time. I’m not enough for you?”

“No!" You jolt at your volume before resting your head further into Kai's neck to continue. "No. Kai- Hyuka that’s not it, please.”

"Well, what do you want, hm?" His free hand travels to your waist and pinches hard making the tears that pooled in your eyes earlier spill over and whimpers leave your mouth. "I'm trying to help you out and all you're doing is complaining."

"Sor- 'm sorry." You cry out. "Just feel so good, you make me feel so good, I can't be quiet."

"My sweet girl." He purrs, bringing his hand from your clit to cradle your face, making sure to smear your wetness on your face. "My poor sweet girl. How could I forget? How dare I forget how dumb you get when I get my hands on you? That's okay, I'll make you listen."

He slides two fingers into your mouth and continues his ministrations below. And this feels good. Oh, it feels amazing, but then you realize that you don’t want to come like this. You tap his shoulder a few times and he slides his fingers out.

“I need you.” You trail your hands down to pull at the hem of his pants. “Please, please?”

“For how worried you were before, it seems like you want them to know how much of a slut you are.” He chances a glance at the guys to find them still watching the movie. Now, whether that’s out of respect or genuine interest is not determined. “Should I just take the blanket off of you? Let them see for real?”

You shake your head but continue pulling on his hemline. "No, 'm just need you. Need you. Please?" And for as hard as Kai can be on you, he really likes to give you what you want. He likes making you feel good. Likes turning you whiney and making you cry and beg for what you want just so he can give you it and so much more. Maybe that’s why you continue to ask for more, knowing whatever you take he returns tenfold.

“Lift up a bit.” You raise onto your knees to give him room to slide his dick out. “Bite my shoulder, sweet thing. So you’re not too loud.”

You were about to retort but when he guides you onto him, you quickly bite down to keep in your sounds. Kai's not helping any with the way he travels his hands up from your hips and to your stomach to press on the bulge he's leaving in your tummy making you choke down a moan.

“This is what you needed, hm?” He says as he picks you up a bit to fix his footing. “Always need me to do all the work, right baby? Pretty thing can’t get off by herself, but that’s okay, I’ll help you out.”

He takes to moving you up and down his cock but never letting you go all the way down so there’s no sound of skin hitting skin. Not that the lack of sound would matter much because you’re not quiet whatsoever. You poor thing, gripping his shoulders so tightly and digging your teeth in so hard but even that isn’t stopping your sounds.

You probably don’t even realize, too caught up in the feeling of wanting a release so desperately that you can’t think of anything else. Kai likes it when you get like this. So lost in the way he makes you feel. It makes him want to devour you but more than that, makes him want to show you off. Show the world how good you are, how sweet you sound.

He looks up to check if the guys are still watching the TV and they are but it’s clear their minds are elsewhere. All of their ears are tinted red and they’re all sitting ramrod straight, adjusting every now and then.

Kai wants to say something, but he didn’t talk to you about how far he could push and, honestly, you’d agree to anything he’d ask of you right now but would it be genuine? Or would you just be agreeing so you could come? He doesn’t have much time to assess before your keening and pulling off his shoulder to beg.

“Kai! ‘m gonna- gonna come.” You choke out as your hands go from his shoulders to his neck, tilting your head up towards him. “Kiss? Please?"

“You never have to ask, love.” He bends down to meet your lips, sliding his tongue into your waiting mouth. “Go ahead and come for me, baby.” He whispers into your lips. “You’ve been so good, you deserve it.” He slams you down onto his lap and moves his hand to your clit, passing over it once, twice, until you’re coming around him.

When you’re finished riding out your high, he pulls himself out of you and hushes your whines with a sweet kiss before he picks you up to pull up his pants and carries you out of the living room. Leaving his friends and group mates to sit in silence (besides the movie credits rolling) with awkward boners and flushes on their faces. When he lays you down on the bed, he kisses you again as he strips you of your clothes.

“Did I do good? Hyuka?” You ask even though he already said it, craving his words.

“So good, baby.” He pulls down his pants and enters you again. “Always so good for me. My perfect little slut, yeah?”

His words may grow more brazen but his thrusts are slow and deep. His hands are sweet as they guide your legs over his shoulders. You love Kai in all of his moods but this one might be your favorite. The way his hands trace your body as if your glass but his mouth runs a mile a minute. Telling you how you were so good and so quiet that he almost thought he wasn’t making you feel good. Saying how he’ll just have to make you scream now to make sure he can still satisfy you.

He continues to ramble as he travels his hands to interlock with yours and bring them above your head. Rocking into you and reaching so far you swear you feel him in your throat, as impossible as that is. It feels so good, he feels so good, you can’t help the little ahs that leave your mouth.

He makes you both reach the edge like that, rambling off about anything and everything before sliding himself out of you and grabbing something to clean you off. Then pulling you into his arms and whispering sweet nothings to you until you fall asleep interlocked together.

<3

Kai expected a talk after you were less than subtle during movie night, but it doesn't make it any less embarrassing to be scolded by his friends.

Taehyun, Soobin, Yeonjun, and Beomgyu are currently standing in front of the couch where you and Kai are cuddling. Taehyun is standing with his hands in his pockets looking bored, Soobin is fiddling with his hands and looks as if he'd rather be anywhere else, Yeonjun has his arms crossed and is tapping his foot, and Beomgyu looks excited that he isn't currently being scolded.

"Is there anything you guys need?" Kai asks casually as he adjusts your position to sitting up.

"You guys can't sit together for movie nights anymore," Yeonjun says with shockingly little remorse considering the fact that he just ripped Kai's heart out and stomped on it in less than ten words.

"What?"

"Why not?" You and Kai share a look of shock and devastation before turning back to them.

"Well, putting aside the fact that you don't even pretend to pay attention to the movie, you also are very distracting to those of us who do want to watch the movie," Taehyun responds.

"How are we distracting?" Kai asks.

"Y/n doesn't even attempt to be quiet an-" Beomgyu is cut off by your gasp as you turn to Kai.

"You told me I was quiet!" You shoot him a look of pure betrayal that Kai has to look away from in shame.

"Well, maybeee you weren't as quiet as I was telling you," Kai proceeds to defend himself (read: lie through his fucking teeth), "You always try so hard to be good for me, I couldn't handle breaking the truth to you."

You don't spare him another glance before looking at the guys in remorse, "I'm so sorry that someone is a lying asshole, I didn't mean to stop you guys from enjoying movie nights."

"No, y/n, it's not your fault," Soobin stops before you can overthink. "We completely blame Kai. It wasn't even that big of a problem, we really wouldn’t have minded if it wasn’t during movie night!”

“You wouldn’t have minded?” You ask surprised. Soobin promptly flushes.

“I- I mean, if you’re comfortable- but like- we don’t mind- I mean I can’t speak for them but-“

“What Soobin is so eloquently saying is that you’re hot y/n,” Beomgyu chimes in, not even flinching at the scorching glare Soobin sends his way. “We’d be crazy to not want to see you fall apart so prettily.”

“Oh.” You’re rendered speechless while Kai struggles to keep his smile at bay. This means Step Two is a success as well! He’s two for two. Damn. He should’ve placed a bet with someone. Or maybe not because when he thinks about it, Step Three needs a bit of revision...

Step Two is done!! Yippie! This took so long because chapter three had me in a chokehold (and I was sick). Love ya! Let me know what you think!

What is Kai's revision to step three? The guys have watched so long, do you think they'll break and start doing something?

[v3suvia]

On Diomedes of Argos.

Typically, when people think about their favorite heroes of the Trojan siege, they think of the likes of Achilles, or Odysseus, or even Agamemnon (or if you’re based, Hector.) And while these are all valid to whatever extent— because let’s be real, no one is choosing favorites based on who has the purest moral standpoint— they’re not exactly remembered for the noblest of reasons.

Achilles spends half of the Iliad inside his tent as a sulky burrito, and the other half slaughtering Trojans and crying over the consequences of his own actions. Odysseus is a chronic liar, and Agamemnon is Agamemnon. But at the end of the day, they’re still remembered (for better or for worse, really.)

Though, on the topic of Homeric heroes, I feel there is one who is often overlooked despite achieving great feats over the course of the epic; Diomedes of Argos. (Note: arguably the most metal of the Achaean heroes at Troy.) So, let’s rant talk about him!

Diomedes was one of the key players in Homer’s Iliad— a recount of the last year of the Trojan siege. Being summoned to fight under oath, Diomedes headed his fleet of 80 ships to Ilium. As well as having a whole chapter dedicated to how kickass he was [read more about that whole thing here], the king of Argos was also a master strategist, and extremely noble— not just in his war efforts.

For example, there are multiple points in the Iliad where he checks the leader of the Trojan expedition, Agamemnon, calling him out on his cowardice or for otherwise being an inadequate leader, [Book 9; ‘Agamemnon, I will begin by taking issue with you over your proposal… do you really believe the Greeks are the cowards and weaklings you say they are? If you for one, have set your heart on getting away, then go.’] [‘Zeus has granted you many things… He gave you the sceptre of power and the honour that comes with it, but he did not give you courage— and courage is the secret of authority.]

And one instance where he truces with the Trojan hero, Glaucus— both of them exchanging armors (on an active battlefield, btw) to honor the fact that their grandfathers had been allies, [Book 6; ‘So let us avoid each other’s spears... And let us exchange our armor so that everyone will know our grandfather’s friendship has made friends of us.’]

He is also one of the only soldiers in the war who avoids committing hubris in the entire epic, which is probably the most telling of all his virtuous traits.

Diomedes also has a proverb named after him! ‘Diomedean Necessity/Diomedean Compulsion', which basically means when someone does something for the greater good (despite the reluctance of the person in question.)

This is taken from the myth of Odysseus and Diomedes taking the wooden statue of Athena— dubbed the Palladium— from Ilium. During this heist, Odysseus tries to stab Diomedes in the back to steal the acclaim of taking the Palladium for himself.

Rather than punishing Odysseus on account of betraying his ally for personal gain, Diomedes ties him up and drags him back to camp instead, because he knew the Greeks couldn’t win the war without Odysseus’ wisdom.

Anyway, why the rant? Sure, I could sit here and convince you that he’s the coolest Greek hero, but what would I be trying to accomplish in doing so? Well, it’s simply because while every other Homeric hero is recognized and represented in modern media, Diomedes isn’t.

He wasn’t even mentioned once in Troy (2004), the film adaptation of the Iliad! Despite him being the focus of multiple chapters in the book, as well as playing a big role in the Achaean army’s over-all victory.

I’m sick of everyone (and by that, I mean most modern media) depicting him as though he was just some dude™ in the Iliad when he was actually (from a mildly biased standpoint) one of the best of the Achaeans at Troy.

TLDR; Diomedes of Argos = Based. He solos ur favs (probably. He almost killed Ajax the greater at Patroclus’ funeral games 💀)Put him in more movies/shows/games so me and the other two Diomedes fans can be happy.

[dol--blathanna]

Thinking a lot about Orym choosing a rabbit when asked what animal he would pick if cursed with lycanthropy.

Because, it makes sense. Orym is small, quick, agile, jumps well, and is highly perceptive. That definitely evokes rabbit imagery. But a lot of Orym’s identity is also tied up with being a protector – giving people AC bumps, the shield being as much a part of his fighting style as his sword, even his title: Saviour Blade of the Tempest. He wants to be a “Shield that protects Exandria”; his priorities about saving the gods are less about the gods themselves, and more about protecting the people of Exandria from the unintended consequences and bloodshed of releasing Predathos. And it would’ve been very easy to pick a large, strong predator to try and evoke the sense of a protector – a wolf, for example, an animal associated with loyalty and protecting its pack. Yet Orym chose a rabbit.

And I think that’s interesting, because rabbits are often seen as ‘cute’ animals – but they’re also a prey animal. In fact, they’re a common food source for many animals across several ecosystems: foxes, wolves, wild cats, dogs, birds of prey like eagles or owls, coyotes, stoats, and humans (and that’s just off the top of my head). Rabbits are skittish, easily frightened; to be rabbit-hearted is to be timid or cowardly. They are not generally associated with fierceness or prowess in fighting. Mice and rats are prey animals too, but typically seen as vermin (rabbits are sometimes seen as vermin too, but a farmer could eat a rabbit – they wouldn’t eat a rat). Deer are prey, but they have hooves and antlers that bring a danger to hunting them, for any animal – the difficulties of hunting rabbits are more related to their evasiveness, speed and good hearing than any life-threatening danger they might pose. Rabbits are, first and foremost, prey animals. They are killed and eaten, so that another animal might live.

Which made me think a lot about one of Orym’s other key traits: self-sacrifice. Bait and switch doesn’t just bump up his ally’s ACs, it specifically switches their place to put him directly in harm’s way. Goading attack is meant to encourage enemies to attack him instead of his friends. He literally made a deal with a hag, essentially exchanging his own life for power to protect his friends. How many times has he gone down in a fight? He’s not the only tank – but unlike Ashton (and Chetney, who also uses ‘self-sacrifice’ in his fighting style with his blood curses) he has no abilities to reduce the damage from the hits he takes (barbarian rage and the werewolf form).

(Side note: I think it’s pretty interesting that Chetney, the wolf, has attacked Orym, the rabbit, more than anyone else when losing control. That Orym’s facial scar was given to him by a friend, not a foe).

Of course, Orym isn’t the only character with self-sacrificial tendencies (FCG wins by a landslide), but I just can’t stop thinking about how weirdly perfect it is that he chose a rabbit for his animal. Rabbits are prey animals. They are eaten, so that other animals may live. Orym takes the hits, he goads and switches with his team mates to put himself in danger, he makes a deal with a hag at the cost of his own life. He’s a soldier, throwing his life away for a cause over and over again because Ludinus must be stopped, because Keyleth has put her trust in him, because it’s the only way to protect his friends, to protect everyone, because it’s the right thing to do. Orym is a rabbit. He’s always been a rabbit. That day in Zephrah, it could have easily been Orym who died instead of Will and Derrig – “unfortunate but necessary sacrifices”, as Ludinus viewed the attack. It’s unfortunate they had to die, but it was for the greater good, according to Ludinus. It’s unfortunate that a rabbit has to die, but it will feed a family of foxes, or stoats, or even a hungry human, so it’s acceptable, right?

Orym is a rabbit. He is giving himself to a greater cause that could very easily kill him – he already willingly signed his life away to Nana Morri. Because that’s what rabbits do. They die to feed others.

And the theme of being disposable is present across the entire group, not just in Orym – Bell’s Hells has been called a “party of NPCs” before. Aside from FCG’s death, I’d say Laudna perhaps fits this theme the best: she was literally murdered and hung from a tree simply because she looked similar to Vex, acting as a warning to adventurers she had never met before. But FCG’s death was – rightfully – viewed as a terrible tragedy by the group. Laudna’s decision to remove Delilah, finally freeing herself from her abuser and emphasising she is more, and deserves to be more, than just some disposable puppet – this was rightfully viewed as a very good thing! But Orym seems to be embracing this identity of self-sacrifice instead, rather than this mindset being properly challenged or acknowledged as a bad thing. After all, there’s no time. There’s too much at stake. Keyleth, Bell’s Hells, all the memories of those who have died in this fight, all the people who might die if Predathos is released and kickstarts a second Calamity – they’re all relying on him, right? A rabbit feeding so many animals with his sacrifice. And it’s not malicious compared to the way that, say, Delilah killing Laudna was an incredibly evil, fucked up and unnecessary thing to do. If Orym died to save everyone else, well, at least everyone else would be saved, right? Saving lives is good, isn't it? How could he complain?

Because rabbits are prey animals, and Orym is a rabbit too. Destined to die so that another animal may feed.

Except, that’s not true. Rabbits are more than just prey. They’re highly social, and thrive best living with others. They’re playful, they enjoy running around and kicking their legs just to show their enjoyment. They’re inquisitive and mischievous, even being associated with tricksters in some folklore and stories. They’re also associated with innocence, playfulness, spring, youth – all manner of things, depending on the story or culture. And they’re not helpless, either, even if they might be thought of as such. They can bite and scratch and draw blood quite easily if they want to! In fact, freezing up isn’t their only response when being attacked by a predator, they are known to fight back if cornered. They can sprint quickly, they have excellent hearing and senses of smell, they know how to evade predators.

Rabbits are prey, and they are also survivors. They have their own social dynamics, their own habits and dislikes and preferences. They are more than just a wolf’s meal. And Orym is more than a soldier, too. He’s more than a “necessary sacrifice”, he’s more than just a shield and sword. He deserves more than to die for a cause. He deserves a happy ending, just like everyone else. I hope he remembers that.

Orym is a rabbit. And the message isn’t that he shouldn’t be a rabbit. It’s that rabbits are worthy of surviving, too.

[astroa3h]

How Pluto Entering Aquarius Will Shape the Next Two Decades

Hold onto your hats, because the cosmos just handed us a front-row ticket to the most exhilarating and unsettling ride of the century. Pluto, the planet of transformation, power, and those deep, dark truths we’d rather shove under the rug, is strutting into Aquarius, the sign of innovation, rebellion, and humanity’s collective future. This isn’t just a cosmic shuffle. It’s a full-blown revolution that will flip the script on every corner of life as we know it. We’re talking society, technology, relationships, and yes, your personal universe. This not your average astrological transit.

Pluto doesn’t mess around. This is the planet of the phoenix, meaning if something isn’t working, it’s about to burn down to ashes. But don’t panic. Aquarius isn’t here to destroy for the sake of destruction. This air sign is the visionary genius, the tech whiz, the humanitarian. Together, they’re rewriting the rules of the game. Think of it like a power wash for your life and our world, a little messy at first, but ultimately freeing. For the next 19 years, expect seismic shifts in how we connect as a species. Aquarius rules technology and social systems, so the digital landscape will explode with changes. In terms of astrology predictions, AI won’t just be a cool tool; it’s going to reshape the job market, education, and even how we understand what it means to be human. If you’ve been clinging to outdated ways of working or communicating, Pluto is here to snap you out of it. The advice? Embrace the new. Learn, adapt, grow. That app you’re too stubborn to download could end up being the key to your next career move.

Power structures are about to collapse. Pluto in Aquarius doesn’t tolerate inequality, corruption, or anything that reeks of the old guard clinging to control. Governments, corporations, and even social hierarchies are in for a rude awakening. On a personal level, ask yourself where you’ve been giving your power away. Is it to a boss who doesn’t value you? A partner who keeps you small? A habit that numbs your potential? Pluto is here to tear those chains apart. But it’s on you to step into the freedom that follows. Of course, there’s a shadow side. Aquarius can be cold, detached, even ruthless in its pursuit of the greater good. Be wary of losing yourself in groupthink or tech dependency. Just because the world is speeding up doesn’t mean you have to lose touch with your own humanity. Make time for real conversations, face-to-face connections, and grounding rituals. This isn’t just a suggestion.

It’s a survival tool for navigating the chaos.

And let’s talk relationships. Traditional bonds might feel stifling under this influence. Aquarius loves independence and freedom, so if you’re in a situation that feels too confining, it’s time to shake things up. This doesn’t mean running for the hills every time someone asks for commitment. But it does mean being honest about what you need to thrive. Maybe that’s more space, or maybe it’s a complete reimagining of what love looks like for you. Just know this: Pluto doesn’t do surface-level. Any connection that’s shallow, fake, or rooted in outdated ideals is going to crumble. And that’s a good thing. This is also a time to dream big, no, bigger. Aquarius is the sign of invention and radical ideas. If you’ve been sitting on a creative project, a business idea, or a vision for your future, Pluto is giving you a cosmic green light. But there’s a catch. You can’t just dream it; you have to build it. Aquarius is innovative, yes, but it’s also fiercely logical. It’s about using your genius to create something real. So, roll up your sleeves. Get to work. You have a 19-year runway to make something extraordinary.

But remember, transformation isn’t a one-and-done event. Pluto moves slowly, digging deep into the cracks we don’t want to see. There will be moments when it feels too intense, too overwhelming. That’s when you lean into the Aquarian gift of vision. What kind of future do you want to build? What kind of person do you want to become? Keep your eyes on the horizon, even when the ground shakes beneath your feet. Pluto in Aquarius isn’t just a transit. It’s a call to action. It’s a demand to evolve. The world is changing, fast. And the question isn’t whether you’ll adapt. It’s whether you’ll rise to meet the opportunity. The universe believes you can. Now it’s your turn to believe it too.

Sending you all my love and blessings,

Ash (@AstroA3h via Instagram & TikTok)

✨💓

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[indierpgnewsletter]

TTRPG's Godzilla Cipher

There are lots of Godzilla movies—around 40 across Japanese and English. Each of those movies showcase a monster but at the same time, they showcase more than that. Godzilla is usually born from nuclear fallout. The destruction he causes are the ripples of a greater disaster, the fear he elicits an echo of a greater trauma. In later movies, Godzilla becomes a kind of anti-hero, protecting the world from other, worse monsters. In the most recent Japanese movie, Godzilla Minus One, even as they kill it, the soldiers reverentially salute the monster. You know, what’s scarier than a monster? A metaphor. Especially if you have to write a book report about it later. Or worse, if it suggests rising nationalism.

In his iconic essay, “D&D Doesn’t Understand What Monsters Are“, Dan D writes, “Monsters have a cause… Monsters are made to be so.”

The crux of the post is that monsters are created by social circumstances. Or to put it another way, monsters are made by people. It is a powerful idea. It’s an axiom that if you accept, has a domino affect on all of your worldbuilding. It also means that, for heroes in such a world, “Violence is not a solution, it is a stopgap measure. The root cause that has created the monster is the real challenge to overcome, and it is likely to be much more complex and rooted in past events than not. Sometimes, there’s likely to be no solution, or at least no solution that the players can enact. The damage might have already been done, and you’re just trying to plug the holes in the hull.” If monsters are made and every act of violence has an institutional or systemic cause, the story becomes about those institutions and systems. The characters will live their own narratives in the cracks of these systems, perpetually compromised.

When I first read this post, the thing that struck me about it is that it was a decision point. Now, every time I ran a game with monsters, I had to decide what kind of game it was going to be: which Godzilla do I want this time?

If I want a game where the characters are small parts in a world that has its own logics, its own politics, its own reality outside of them, there is a Godzilla for that. If I want a game where the world is framed around the characters, where monsters reflect their stories back to them, there’s a Godzilla for that. If I want a story where my characters dropkick the big lizard, of course, there’s a Godzilla for that too.

In your instance, this might not be a decision. You might like all your games a certain way all the time. Or you might be like me and oscillate.

The last case, that’s just ordinary D&D, I don’t think you need examples. But want to see an example of the first case? See any of Zedeck Siew or Goblin Punch / Arnold K‘s work. They’re both excellent at grounding a monster in a social circumstance. There’s lots to learn from them.

Want to see an example of the second case? The bestiary in the DIE RPG explicitly constructs its monsters around psychology and theme. To pick a couple at random, it suggests using giants to echo parental figures or gorgons to echo victims of exploitation. It’s a very steal-able idea. But this can never be cookie cutter. At the very least, you have to consciously pick from the bestiary based on what will resonate with the characters and players.

The tricky thing about this case is that it requires collaboration with players. Characters need to have qualities that you can mirror back at them—broken friendships that see their cracked reflection in the collateral destruction of two big lizards fighting, unspoken wounds that resonate with the big lizard who’s only angry because there’s a thorn in his claw. To make good psychodrama, you need the raw material.

You can skip this step having a focused game from the start: a game about teenagers doing illegal skateboarding so when the monsters reflect authority figures, that’s a slam dunk. I mean, an ollie or whatever, I don’t know anything about skateboarding. Basically, Slugblaster‘s godzillas are good because it knows what its about.

[nynyhaha]

Spider Themes: Phantom Troupe and fate (plus Chrollo character song analysis)

THIS is the moment that lead tons of fans to believe that Chrollo is a determinist,or at least a fatalist,believing that certain things cannot be avoided and that people lack the free will to act otherwise.

I haven’t seen any other proof of Chrollo being a determinist and I think it’s not that relevant to his character so this idea being so popular annoys me,and yet,there are lots of time where Chrollo is confronted with the idea of fate.

Why doesn’t he blame Judas?

There are multiple ideas

-his betrayal was bound to happen and he had no free will

-regardless of will,his actions were justified because it resulted in the greater goal being achieved(and Chrollo sees Jesus’ death as as important as his own death in a scenario where the Spiders have to chose.Chrollo would want them to sacrifice him for the Spider,and this scene hints at that)

-anyone willing to betray the organisation for money or fame was never a true member

-Chrollo doesn’t take anything personally and he doesn’t judge other people for their actions because he expects very little of them (we know this isn’t true for his Spiders,but it seems to be that way with Hisoka. He doesn’t blame Hisoka for being what he is)

This point is also illustrated in the flashback chapters where young Chrollo doesn’t get angry at his bullies even once. He’s not mad at Uvo,Phinks or Feitan,he outsmarts them or outruns them,but still sees them as part of his circle and never acts aggressively.

He doesn’t even appear to hate Kurapika or care much for his motives,since he accepted the fact that people will come after him for a multitude of reasons. He doesn’t care how good those reasons are.

The prophecy

Neon’s prophetic ability is meant to help people see the potential future,it’s not presented as being self fulfilling,in which case it would be a scam. The idea is that you can gain knowledge of your potential fate,and chose the course of action accordingly.

Chrollo trusts the ability since he uses it to make important decisions,like whether to stay in yorknew.

If he can use it to his advantage and cheat fate,how could he be a fatalist??

Our will above all else

The phantom troupe is incredibly strong as a group,yet they retain qualities of underdogs. They were born in the most marginalised community possible,in a place that doesn’t officially exist,and yet they’re now feared and infamous.

They won’t allow the world to take from them

They will impose their will on others.

Uvo’s requiem

I will never shut up about it.

It perfectly represents the nature of the Phantom Troupe and Chrollo’s philosophy.

We know Chrollo believes in souls,but does a man who sits in a broken Church and wears upside down crosses believe in any just god? There’s no way Chrollo isn’t a nihilist when it comes to ultimate justice. He expressed those doubts even as a child,and it seems that while he now thinks souls exist,he doesn’t rely on any afterlife.

He never relied on justice from above,he always took matters in his own hands. Believing in souls may mean that he sees death as a change of state,and sees murder as more forgivable since “everyone ends up in the same place anyways”but this is just speculation.

Only he can improve Uvo’s situation.

Uvogin’s soul soon will be gone,who knows where. Chrollo can’t change that,he doesn’t even know if Uvo hears him. But he will fulfil his wish. He will send other souls off in Uvo’s honour. He will show that his life and death mattered. It’s an attempt to reclaim agency,however futile it may be,it seems Chrollo wants to prove something to the universe.

People are the ones who sever ties

Doesn’t this run contrary to his ideas about traitors? It sounds here like he expects loyalty from those close to him. Or does he mean that he himself won’t forget things unless he cuts them off?

He can’t feel less responsible for the deaths of his friends and he can’t forget his place in the world,can’t detach himself from it.

Hi identity is still tied to external things. And it means all of the things he has lost,all of the humanity he has shed were deliberate sacrifices. Like he resigned himself to give up his life for his goals.

It’s very much a show of will.

The coin

It’s a practical way to resolve conflicts. While it’s thrown by a person,and the outcome can be random, therefore unbiased,it could also be them calling to fate to decide who gets his way.

“May happen what is meant to happen”

This leads to no conclusion,but it’s absolutely related to fate so I’ll mention it here.

1/13 analysis

I have no idea how canon this song is,but it’s a great interpretation of the information we have in canon. It touches on many themes crucial to Chrollo and his Troupe. I’m using the translation from the wiki,I don’t know Japanese and honestly I prefer the translation from the YouTube lyric video

This song mentions almost everything I’ve talked about in this post,and even more.

“..From the beginning”

They were doomed from the beginning. Even if they wanted something innocent and simple as dubbing anime,finding purpose in entertaining the masses.

First Chrollo rejects the notion of life,then he goes on to deny fate.

But he also approves them. “As if” The Troupe doesn’t act in accordance with reality and what it has in store for them,they act as if none of those things were real.

Life not existing means it’s meaningless and because of the horrible conditions Chrollo grew up in,he and the others were never given a chance of any life worth living. Life is real,but not for them. It’s something they deny themselves,something they abandon in favour of their duty and goal.

Fate might refer to both,inaction,staying anonymous nobodies,and doing something,surpassing themselves,and then dying a horrible death.

If there is a fate,can they know what it is?

Is Chrollo following his destiny,or acting in spite of it? If only he knew,haha. Maybe it’s not his choice to become a murder,maybe it was meant to be from the beginning. Or maybe he was meant to do nothing and be nothing,yet he refused.

”When we’ve obtained everything,we will disappear without a trace”

Went from actors to phantoms,got it? ;) This line brings in a sense of finality,of inevitability. So he knows they won’t live forever,that there is a limit. Sure,it could be referring to them being impossible to track,but I chose to believe there is more,since Chrollo touches on the possibility of them actually dying.

In that case,should they “separate and face eternity” the Spider’s Soul will live on. Or it must live on! Pretty spiritual, huh.

I love that while everything hints at his views being nihilistic,Chrollo’s spirituality is almost hopeful.

So is his song.It talks both to the enemy (you can’t run from us) and his fellow Spiders. He tells them to just steal,to consult the coin if needed,to trust that the Spider will live on and everything will be fine.

“What is there to fear?” I’m gonna cry,I swear.

This song also has this notion that whatever happens,happens.

“Que sera,sera” and shit. It shows acceptance of things that shouldn’t be accepted. Even his own feelings at the loss of his friends Chrollo acknowledges,and then ignores.

“Can’t be blamed.” He can’t blame himself for still feeling those things,but he just dismisses them. “You will want to sneeze at dust,it’s normal,but hold it in.” = “You will cry at deaths,feel grief and anger. Those reactions are normal,but don’t let it affect you”🗿🧍

What has pride to do with this? I’m genuinely confused. If this mf telling us to be humble? Is it prideful to expect no one to die? Or is this the typical “detach yourself from your feelings”?

Conclusion: Chrollo is seen as a fatalist because of his stoic attitude. The only way (according to HxH fans) to deal with what he goes through,is to tell himself it’s meant to be. I propose that no,he doesn’t think so. He thinks that regardless of fate,he can outsmart it and come out on top. Even if he loses people in the process,in the end it will be worth it. And even if he feels grief at their deaths,that’s just what happens. It didn’t stop him until now. All that just to steal? No,Ofc not. He just doesn’t know how to express his motives.

DO YOU EVEN HAVE CLEAR MOTIVES,CHROLLO? Your journey leads you to nowhere,and we don’t even know where it all went wrong

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#55: The Future Generations (1.06)

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

The CRM was so convinced that they were creating a better world for future generations but they failed to see how they’re actually destroying and traumatizing the youth and those that survive their horrible attacks. But fortunately, Rick and Michonne see right through them. 👌🏽 And what I see within these next scenes is the most gorgeous shot of Richonne of all time 🤩...

Beale and Rick continue their meeting and Beale reveals that, similar to Okafor, he also sacrificed people he cared about, his home, and the whole city of Pittsburg for the “greater good” of saving Philadelphia.

Then Beale says, “It’s not exactly tearing into a person with your canines, but it’s not nothing. isn’t that right?” Why do I have a feeling that of all the soldiers he’s asked that same question of what’s the worst thing you’ve done, Rick gave Beale the craziest answer he’s ever heard lol? 🤭

Rick replies, “No it’s not nothing, sir...My dad taught me, for better or worse…some things have to burn to bring things back.” And Beale agrees with that line of thinking, saying, “It was that. The sword that kills is the sword that brings life. I killed my past and a whole city so another could live.”

Whenever I hear Beale talk about the sword bringing life I always think Rick would agree with him it’s just Beale’s talking about the wrong sword.

Also, it’s interesting hearing Beale say he killed his past because the CRM nearly killed Rick’s past too by taking away the images of his loved ones from his mind. But fortunately, the sword-wielding woman who gives Rick life helped restore what the CRM tried to take from him. 😇

Beale tells Rick the first secret which is that the most likely outcome is they’re all gonna die. And then we see Michonne enter an auditorium where a projector shows a bunch of photos of little kids as a robotic-sounding soldier goes over the Child Evacuation Protocol of their horrific Operation N1W.

Then y’all, we’re hit with a stunning shot of Rick and Michonne in that candlelit bed scene, and the lighting and framing of it all is perfect. 🙌🏽

And of course, now that Michonne is no longer facing away from Rick they’re back up on each other as expected. 😊 Michonne looks up at Rick with her ring-clad hand on his face as she says, “So, we’re born this way.” And the eye contact. 🫠 My goodness, they invented chemistry. 💯

They cut to several more clips of Richonne kicking butt in TWD that just further hammers home that they’re cut from the same cloth. And then Rick smiles down at Michonne and says, “I guess so.”

I love that Rick and Michonne found someone who matches their crazy and their fighting spirit so much to where they can both just know 'we were born like this and that’s okay.' In fact, being a bit certifiably crazy is part of why they’re still here. 👌🏽 And they're crazy about each other which is part of what makes this story about 'crazy love' so golden.

Back in the echelon briefing, Rick learns that according to Beale humans only have 14 years left before extinction and that’s why the CRM does what it does.

Rick inquires about what they do and Beale says, “We’re trying to beat the odds, Grimes.” Then they cut to more TWD clips of Rick and Michonne, and I like how intercutting between Rick and Michonne clips really makes it feel like these two are one being. The baddest being. 😌

Michonne is appalled by what she is learning in the auditorium and Rick is appalled by what he’s learning in the briefing as Beale finally shares what the CRM is really up to. Beale says that they destroy other communities for resources, strategic superiority, and the CRM's favorite line “to ensure the city’s secrecy and security above all.”

I like the parallel clips they use of Rick looking up at a helicopter in TWD season 8 and in TOWL ep 1, as he learns that these helicopters he saw were likely heading out to cause some serious destruction. 

Michonne sits in the auditorium as it's revealed that the CRM intends to evacuate 10% of the children before the area is gassed and its population is liquidated. And you already know none of this is happening on Mama Michonne’s watch. She’s going to fight for these kids and her kids because clearly, this 'last light of the world' doesn’t care who they hurt.

gif cred: @nerd4music

And I know after having been gassed herself, Michonne is especially horrified that they intend to do it again to tons of innocent people.

Meanwhile, Beale tells Rick they have spies throughout the world to monitor and potentially sabotage others. Jadis must have been trying to win Spy of the Month, the way she stayed sabotaging Richonne and team family back in the day. 😒

Beale says the CRM was behind destroying Omaha and in 18 hours they’ll destroy Portland to become the supreme force on the continent.

And then we’re blessed with another great shot of Rick and Michonne in bed as Rick says they’ll tell the Civic Republic the truth about what the CRM does, like the bombing.

Rick says “if they won’t who will?” as Michonne intently says, “No one” and I admit I’m not the craziest about this dialogue but what it lacks in subtlety it more than makes up for with the stunning visual.

Because then Rick notes that they don’t leave people behind and Michonne affirms that this is what they do and y’all the visual of her sliding her ring-clad hand in his hair as they look at each other…Put it in the Louvre. 🤩🖼

This gorgeous visual right here is truly my favorite Richonne visual of all time. 👏🏽 These two are some serious stunners and this shot is a mesmerizing work of art. 😍🔥

gif cred: @lousolversons

Beale continues to give Rick the 411 on what they’re about to do and he’s so emotionally removed from the fact that he’s talking about wiping out a whole city of people. That alone lets you know his brand of crazy is a major problem and Rick can sense that too as he starts to reach for his knife.

Beale also says they’ll continue to take the resources of even more communities they find, which means eventually they’ll end up on ASZ's doorstep.

As Beale says, “Maybe we get to survive'' there are quick clips shown from several surviving members of the TWD cast. Michonne then radios Rick in the auditorium while she listens to the soldiers talk in a cold and disconnected manner about the trauma they’re bound to put these kids through.

In the final bedroom scene, Rick continues to go over he and Michonne’s plan and he lets her know to key the walkie if anything changes and then he’ll get back to her when he can. Hearing that is always sweet to me because even with the stuff he has to take care of with the plan, he wants her to be assured he’ll get to her if she needs him.

gif cred: @nat111love

Looking like a beautiful mermaid, Michonne says, “if I can be gotten back to.” 🧜🏾‍♀️ And then Rick’s walkie goes off in the briefing. 😬

Beale notices and Rick is quick on his feet saying it was just Thorne. Back in the auditorium, Danai does a great job communicating Michonne’s horror even through a mask as the CRM soldier continues their cold and emotionally detached speech even calling the stuffed animals “comfort items” to “furnish” the children with. 

As the projector lands on the final image of a young Black boy (which I like how Danai wanted that pic to be the final one to connect to Michonne’s kids RJ and Andre) we then get more TWD clips of the adorable Grimes kids. And I like how each clip feels like it embodies a different season - fall, winter, summer.

There’s Carl smiling on those train tracks. 😭 Judith smiling and hugging Michonne in the snow. 😭 And RJ’s adorable little smile at the beach. 😭 And then, having seen enough, Michonne makes her way out of the auditorium. 

I feel like here is a good time to note something regarding the CRM too. I know some felt like the handling of the CRM was rushed in TOWL and wanted it to be explored more in the show, but I think the CRM/Civic Repiblic was actually intended to be more of an arena for a far more personal story being told in The Ones Who Live.

This show was more about Rick and Michonne navigating a journey to overcome a lot of internal imprisonment, and the CRM was always explored in relation to that more contained and personal story of these two characters finding themselves and each other again.

At least in TOWL (I can’t really speak on any other spinoff show in the twdu since I don't watch them) we’re always seeing the CRM through the lens of how it impacts Rick and Michonne specifically. The CRM makes Rick lose himself, they make Michonne nearly lose her life when they gas her and her friends, they almost cause a major wedge in Richonne’s relationship and nearly keep them from going home together.

The CRM had done a lot of damage throughout the miniseries so it’s not like their impact isn’t felt, it's just not necessarily dived into on a grander scale outside of Rick and Michonne because this is Rick and Michonne’s story.

gif cred: @nat111love

This miniseries was always meant to give Richonne closure, not launch the next ten years of the twdu. So for me personally, I was more than fine with Richonne getting substantially more focus than the CRM stuff.

Also, one of the main things to acknowledge about the CRM is that it makes everyone lose themselves. All these soldiers become faceless cogs in the machine, devoid of caring about anything other than the mission.

We see this with Pearl becoming a convert and becoming so obsessively mission-minded. That’s what the CRM does to its soldiers - strips them of what makes them human, so they can just obediently go along with these heinous acts for the so-called greater good. So in a sense, the way the CRM felt faceless and distant might’ve been the point. That’s what you have to be to belong to this military.

And lifeless and distant is what the CRM nearly made Rick. However, what we saw in TOWL's actual core plot is that Rick did devastatingly lose himself but he found himself again when his other half reentered his life.

In fact, Rick is fully cognizant of the fact that his beloved wife and son are why he didn’t succumb to losing himself and being in the same emotionally numb state that Beale, Okafor, Jadis, and Pearl ended up in.

And in his final confrontation with Beale, Rick makes it known the ones who truly give him something to live for. 😌👌🏽

[ninthprime]

finished my short power fantasy reread a couple days ago and came out very impressed by it- it’s starting to scratch the itch wicdiv did years ago, though they’re very different books. i read die and a bit of once and future too, but i think this deep character drama/high worldbuilding mode is my favorite gillen. i have a bunch of things i want to post about eventually but one that immediately came to mind, especially seeing the solicits for the next two issues, was that i’m really intrigued by whatever is going on with jacky and eliza’s dynamic.

jacky in general is a character i’ve ended up really loving (er, as a character, not a person), partly because he feels like gillen working against archetype in some ways? i feel like a considerable part of the readers are going to go in with preconceived notions of what a right-wing guy with a mask is going to be like, and particularly they’re going to compare him to woden, which is of course where my brain instantly went after the first issue. if you asked me what i thought was up with jacky and eliza after #2 i would probably have the valkyries and woden’s dynamic with cassandra enter my brain. in reality jacky isn’t a lot like woden for the obvious reasons- woden’s an old white dude whose character is fundamentally linked to those things, and jacky’s a brown guy who used to be an anarchist- but also because woden’s character motivation turns out to be grimly simple and selfish, whereas jacky’s right-wing shift is clearly influenced by massive trauma and fuckups but also not justified by those things.

jacky and eliza’s dynamic appears to be pretty much(?) platonic- at least in the sense that jacky tells the pyramid that they should just kill him if he ever goes evil cult leader and has sex with any of them*- but is still incredibly loaded! jacky let her into the total arseholes in the 70s but later notes that he never trusted her enough to promote her higher, and he didn’t even back then:

(by the by, eliza being rendered in complete white in flashbacks before her decension is one of my favorite wijngaard artistic touches for the book so far. really emphasizing the good girl gone bad.)

eliza spends this entire scene questioning him, and it seems to me like she had her own ideas and agenda even back then. (what exactly is christianity in this world when valentina came down from heaven?) presumably then there was another decade-plus of history between them before the second summer of love, at which point things imploded in a way we’ll presumably find out about this week as i write this.

what’s really juicy to me though is what we get in the post-SSOL scene in #5 and after. from what i can tell, eliza’s decension was probably both a consequence of whatever she had to do in the SSOL and her own desires and beliefs…but jacky pretty clearly blames himself.

which i’d argue is a bit rude to eliza’s agency- she comes off as pretty confident in her choice here, although we haven’t been deep in her head- but that’s sure not how jacky is internalizing it. later in this scene he refers to her as “an occasional really good person who wants to be a martyr” (she seems to acknowledge this as referring to herself) and a “beautiful, sweet-hearted, doomed, dumb fuck.” it’s probably quite good for humanity that eliza came around when she did, but i don’t think jacky likes that it happened to her specifically. more importantly, it makes her the only surviving member of the original pyramid; in jacky’s eyes, she’s a living embodiment of his failure walking around, and also she could end the world right now if she wanted to on an even greater scale than he could, judging by the estimates in #6.

by the time we get to 1999 this all seems to have metastasized for jacky as…some sort of belief that eliza is aligned to him? she has to correct him on it in #2:

“eliza arrived to join me” is interesting wording- pretty sure she arrived for her own reasons, buddy. but eliza has been so offscreen up until this point that i don’t think we really have any full idea of her politics, and i’m inclined to think she might keep a lot of them to herself. it’s never even in question whether she’ll come to masumi’s art show; she was never going to. i don’t get the impression that she and jacky talk often, even if their history makes them important to each other. so jacky’s just spent years molding an idea in his head of what he would like things to be like, an idea that’s all tied up in what he thinks he needs/wants to do for the world, as it is with every relationship between the superpowers.

jacky, i know you’re saying this because she’s the only one whose powers can interfere with your plans, but it feels like you’re really saying it because you’ll burn down your relationships with the other superpowers if you have to, but you feel like you have to retain your relationship with eliza because she’s the last vestige of your past life and you hold immense guilt for her actions and you feel like retaining a stable relationship with her is important for your own stability and self-perception? is that it? i’m just saying man.

and of course none of this explains what eliza thinks about him, which is much more ambiguous, like everything else about her. well, that’s for the next few issues to discuss.

(i feel like this sort of not-quite-romantic dynamic is permeating a bunch of this book’s relationships, particularly some of the early stuff with etienne and valentina- valentina refers to some of his compliments in the first scene of the comic as “flirting”, and they have the classic childhood friends backstory. but they also are pretty obviously not a thing. you wonder how many relationships among the superpowers have hovered around it and not gotten further because The World Is At Stake. heavy seems incredibly polyamorous and isabella and masumi’s dynamic is a fucked mess neither can completely acknowledge, but the other four superpowers seem very single. etienne almost certainly has an ethical discussion of such things in his head.)

* as a side note, this is a fun parallel with heavy and his cult’s “weird sex stuff”, though despite his occasionally almost world-ending behavior heavy is still way more likable than jacky. interesting counterpoint to any potential Sex Coded As Bad takes that a lot of fiction stumbles into.

[argumate]

when right-wing political parties fracture and begin to eat each other alive it’s funny because the people involved are usually assholes, their vain attempts to spin the narrative in their favour are hilarious, and pratfalls and petty drama are just a reliable source of humour, and all of these reasons apply just as well to the scenario of left-wing political parties gratuitously shooting themselves in the dick.

however a right-wing party getting fractious is entirely on brand: at least ideologically they’re supposed to believe in the virtues of individual self interest and robust competition and a war of all against all and to the winner go the spoils, so why not stab each other in the back for personal glory at the cost of the greater good?

but a left-wing party is notionally founded on the dream of overcoming what ails humanity by way of collective action, the principle that cooperation can achieve what competition cannot, that class interests supersede all other antagonisms, and in that case what the fuck does it mean when that party cannot even cooperate with itself? what is left for us to offer but derision for such monumental failure, not even to fail in a valiant but doomed fight against a powerful adversary but to be torn apart by internal contradictions (!) and the inability to unite as one despite the professed importance of the mission?

Australia never banned the Communist Party, and as a liberal democracy we can be proud of that, but of course we never needed to: it faded into meaningless irrelevancy of its own accord (a tradition continued to this day by the Greens, who if they ever catch a whiff of electoral success and the chance of actually doing something useful will promptly collapse into acrimonious debates about ending capitalism and disappear up their own arse until everybody else loses interest).

so is it funny that organisations predicated on working together for the common good keep splitting? yes of course it’s funny, it’s fucking hilarious! and tragic, if you believe in the goal, and think that it ever had a chance of being achieved in this way by these people.

in the meantime the rites continue to be dutifully performed but the modern infrastructure of Marxist organisation resembles little more than a pyramid scheme or an evangelical church that exists solely for the purpose of sucking in enough idealistic students to perpetuate the ideology to the next generation, while ensuring that they stay carefully isolated from any ideas that might seriously challenge the status quo (or honestly even ideas that might help to understand the status quo, a prerequisite to doing anything about it); this is also a funny situation but it’s getting a little bitter, and I don’t enjoy seeing so much potential go to waste.

[fairy-spring]

The new fandom discourse has certainly been, uh… interesting.

“All LU fans are the worst and can’t read! I hate how they dominate the fandom!”

“I hate Zelda fans who say we HAVE to play the games to enjoy fandom! They’re elitist gatekeepers who probably don’t even think BotW’s a real Zelda game!”

There are things about these blorbos that can really only be gleamed from an authentic playthrough, or at the very least watching someone else play it. Screenshots and headcanon and hearsay can only go so far, and it’s a very big reason why a chunk of the fandom (myself included) recommends doing a bit of research.

It’s not elitism, and it’s not gatekeeping. I literally just want y’all to enhance your experience with the fandom by having a greater understanding of the source material.

Engaging with the Zelda fandom solely through LU is, in my eyes, like engaging with Star Trek solely through the newer movies that came out.

Are you able to understand it by itself?

Sure.

Is there a lot of context that’s missing because they’re trying to call back these things that happened in the original series and you don’t understand why everyone cares so much about Khan and these dialogue parallels but something something it happened in the old one so???????

Yeah, it’s gonna be like that, too.

Honestly I can’t even say too much about LU fans not knowing stuff about the games, because I can’t even trust the Zelda fandom IN GENERAL to actually read anything that’s happening in them either.

A good chunk of the fandom honestly takes what “elder authorities” say on it at face value. I don’t think I need to repeat the whole incident I went through last year involving a certain someone and her thesis essay on Twilight Princess full of things that flat-out did not fucking happen.

Yet, hundreds, if not thousands of guests on tumblr have seen that essay, and they take it as the big “holy shit tp was so dark” essay instead of sitting down and actually thinking about the words that were written.

But I digress.

Yeah, LU has dominated most of the fandom. Arguably the reason why we have so many linksmeetau’s is because of how much Linked Universe exploded.

Do I like it?

No.

Do I understand all the LU x Reader stuff I see everywhere or all the fanon that was made just for this AU?

Not even a little.

Does that mean I should dunk on people who do?

Absolutely not!

I of all people am in no position to talk when it comes to weird fandom things. I ship Link with an OC. My literal favorite one is FIRST HERO. Who ain’t even CANON. Everything I have for him is SHIT I MADE UP!!

But ya know what?

I still know how to fucking READ!!!!!

You know what? Fuck it, I’m taking everything back.

I AM gatekeeping!

NOBODY’S allowed to touch the Zelda fandom until they learn some god damn READING COMPREHENSION!!

I’m kidding, of course.

But seriously like. Learn your fandom.

Linked Universe isn’t the source of every headcanon ever, and Linked Universe didn’t kill your grandma, okay?

You don’t have to be freaks like me and my husband, who pore over every in-game and meta detail for the sake of an AU. But I strongly encourage everyone to watch a playthrough of other Zelda games. And if you can play them, that’s even better!

Also like.

The headcanon of ALttP Link and Zelda being siblings doesn’t belong to Linked Universe. That’s a general fandom headcanon.

Just thought I’d clear that up.

[paladinhearts]

M*leven’s Potential Breakup

If/when M*leven break up, how would you like to see it go down? Me personally, I’d like it if it was initiated by Mike rather than El (it’d likely be mutual but for argument’s sake).

Of course, El initiating the break up would go back to her character arc about becoming independent and finding comfort in being by herself and being self-reliant. However, there’s a reason why I think Mike being the one to end things might be a good direction to go in as well.

Throughout the show, we’ve seen that whenever Mike and El are apart, it’s practically never through Mike’s choice.

S1: El is taken into the Upside Down, she ‘dies’ in front of Mike. He loses her.

S2: El is stopped by Hopper from coming in contact with Mike, they are apart the entire season and Mike can’t reach her. He loses her.

S3: Once again, Hopper forces Mike to be away from El, and then later that season, El dumps him. He loses her.

S4: El has to move away, and for all they know, permanently. Mike was unable to communicate properly with her. Then she gets arrested by the police. And then she’s taken by/goes with the Hawkins Lab people. She doesn’t take him with her. He loses her.

In every season, every separation between these two has been negative. It’s never initiated by Mike. It’s never natural. He’s never given a choice, which is why he feels like he keeps losing her.

We’ve seen that Mike has developed a very negative relationship with the idea of ‘losing’ El. And that’s only natural, considering that every single time he’s apart from her, it was never willingly. He associates time spent away from El with negative events in his life. And because of this exact reason, I believe he’s afraid.

He’s afraid of growing apart from her. He’s scared of the idea of letting go because he knows that every time he’s ‘lost’ her, things always go to shit. He’s not allowing himself to consider the fact that maybe, just maybe, letting go of El might not be the horrible idea he thinks it is.

Currently, they are both holding each other back. In their relationship, El hasn’t felt loved by Mike for a long time now, and Mike will always be the Lois Lane to El’s Superman, which is something he clearly does not want. They are both at a stalemate. And a lot of what I’m saying about Mike applies to El too because they both associate their time apart with negative things.

For El, this has started to slowly change over time. We saw her slowly gaining her confidence in S3, and then by the end of S4, she seems to have come to a conclusion and she seems to have found her independence (read: the last scene in S4). All that’s left now is for Mike to also realise that perhaps growing apart from El and letting her go will actually be a decision for the greater good.

This is why I said I want to see Mike be the one to initiate the breakup. If it’s El that dumps Mike, it’ll once again put him in a position where he feels like he screwed up and lost her, again. But if he’s the one that does it, he’ll realise that this time, he has a choice. He has equal power and an equal say in their relationship. He’s not losing her, he’s willingly letting go. He’s not being forced into this by anyone, there’s nothing that’s trying to take El away from him, this is simply his decision, it’s something he wants to do.

It’ll help him break free from the power imbalance of their relationship, and help him overcome his negative associations with being apart from El. He’ll realise that not all distance has to be a bad thing, and he’ll see the potential in a platonic relationship with El. It’d be a similar arc as his situation with Max, just reversed. With Max, he was afraid of letting her in because he’s never considered being platonically friends with a girl, and with El, it’s the same thing just opposite; he’s afraid of letting her go because he doesn’t realise that just because they’re not dating doesn’t mean he will lose her.

In the past, it’s always been something or someone forcing them apart, so this time, Mike being the one to make the choice would give him back some of that control he so desperately needs in order to repair his self esteem and heal from his trauma.

It’ll help them both grow apart from each other naturally for once, allowing them both to become their own person.

That’s all 🎲

[shylyobscene]

I wonder what would happen if an someone had six rocket raccoon boyfriends?

GREAT question.

First of all, I think this would create the most toxic polycule in the world. I have no idea how you managed to acquire six Rockets and found yourself in a situation where you’re dating all of them at the same time, but expect a lot of infighting.

Rocket really isn’t the type to share. He had to fight tooth and nail for most of the things in this world that he calls his own, and that includes you; it makes him a little possessive of his relationship with you, although he knows he can’t really blame anyone for being drawn to the sweet little thing hanging onto his arm when he’s with you…but now he’s gonna have to compete with flarkin’ five of himself?

Anticipate a lot of jealousy as they all strive for your attention. If Rocket was already prone to monopolizing your time before this, expect that attention to increase twofold now that he senses competition—even if the competition is technically himself. The result is a lot of PDA. There will never not be a possessive hand over the small of your back, or an arm wrapped around your thigh—his way of softly letting the others know you’re his. Even though they’re technically all him.

The Rockets will also likely not get along. It was hard enough to convince himself that he even deserves you in the first place, and now there are five more of him that think they have some sort of right to you? Please.

This is one of the moments where I wish I had more knowledge of the different comics-Rockets and eidos-Rocket, but from what I’ve gleaned they all have varying senses of self-worth and are all insecure about slightly different things—and this will absolutely be a point of tension. I think it would really grate on MCU Rocket to come across a version of himself who is just…happy with how he looks. With what he is. Who is more confident in his affection with you, and isn’t afraid to show you off.

He’s essentially getting a mirror reflected at him that shows him everything he could be, but isn’t. He’s seeing versions of him that, in some ways, are better. Happier. Hell, some of them are nearly a frickin’ foot taller—but he’s not going to let that jeopardize what he’s got going on with you. You’re too good to lose.

(Slight NSFW under the read more)

All of the Rockets would likely get increasingly handsy, and they were already really frickin’ handsy in the first place. But they have to prove a point, you know.

They’d probably play dirty and try to mark you to visually lay claim—if you were okay with it, of course. But if you do say you’re okay with it, well…good luck. Expect to be covered in hickeys and bites and bruises in very visible places. Mostly your neck, and your arms. He’ll still make sure to leave a few in his favorite spots though, like high up on your thigh, or your hip, or your tits—what can he say, he’s a guy who likes to keep things balanced. No one in the Bowie is able to look you in the eye for at least a cycle once they start doing this.

There would also be an unspoken competition over who can get you to scream the loudest, and come the most amount of times in quick succession. Rocket prides himself in being a very consummate lover—this is a trait that is consistent throughout all renditions of him. So…expect to have your hands full. And your mouth full. And your cunt full.

And I know that this is what you really wanted to know: yes, you could absolutely convince them to have sex with you all at the same time. This is one of the few moments where all six Rockets are able to put their differences aside and work together for the greater good. Just don’t expect to be going anywhere for a while.

[three-headed-monster]

brandt/luke: a primer

i'm gonna be super honest, there's nothing that's prompting this. it's quite literally self-indulgent for me to archive their interactions before i forget them all!

so hello ! welcome ! if you're here, i presume you're clicking because you're like 'what the fuck is this, luke hughes and who now?' and yeah that would be me too if i didn't know the background information

but it exists!!! and it has spiralled far beyond my wildest dreams and become an actual Thing that i would consider one of the ships i ride the HARDEST for!!!!!! that i have somehow convinced my closest friends to also ride for, which is the biggest accomplishment for a ship, as we all know

here's who the ship consists of:

luke hughes!

(sorry he looks cursed but this is not a post about how attractive he is)

he was the 4th overall pick in the 2021 draft or smth, no big deal, just comes from an extremely talented hockey family and plays with his brother in new jersey now. used to play at the university of michigan, which unfortunately is an important setting for many, many rarepair ships. don't know if there are really any fun facts about him but he used to model for american eagle and got made fun of for that

anyways here's the second person in the ship, brandt clarke !

(did i choose a significantly better looking photo of him for this than with luke? yes, absolutely, because it's important that you think he's attractive)

8th overall pick to the la kings, former don mills flyer with shane wright and brennan othmann, former barrie colts captain, friends with jack quinn, etc etc. you may actually know him from that time he tried to jump the glass and fight a fan in the stands, i think that video went p viral on hockey twitter. the most important thing you know though is that he has more attitude and swagger in his pinky finger than the majority of people have in their whole BODY

so let's venture back to 2022, and how this all started, with a conversation between me and @fifthovertime about the greater toronto area and its hockey connections

toronto, as many might know, is considered a hockey hotbed, due to its abundance of minor hockey teams. it's where a lot of nhl players come from, and where a lot of players call home and return to in the summers.

luke, prior to moving to michigan with his parents and brothers so quinn could play with the ntdp, used to live in toronto while his dad worked for the leafs. at this time, there were a lot of other young budding stars in the area, brandt clarke included. he'd moved down from ottawa to play on a minor midget team in toronto, the don mills flyers, which was rival minor hockey team to luke's. however, since the toronto hockey scene was so tight (and because brandt's older brother was playing with luke's on the same team), they would periodically see each other and play pond hockey together. as kids do.

don't believe me? hear it from brandt himself. timestamp from about 2:55 of the video to about 3:55.

this is what i like to call interaction #1. of course, it's really just brandt retelling a story, but it's the first time i heard about any sort of friendship between the hughes brothers and the clarkes. very wholesome, you can tell brandt really has a hero complex for luke and jack, it's frankly adorable.

and if you go back, you can even see that brandt was a really supportive friend! he commented on luke’s commitment post to umich and luke liked the comment, at the time

but they’re not friends. no, i’d call them far from that. because slowly....you can start to see that hatred is building........because brandt starts to know he's good enough to go fourth overall. and he would love to go to a team with his brother on it.....but there's another brother standing in the way of that.

he doesn't speak about luke in particular in this interview, but he definitely talks about njd as if he doesn't think it's a realistic option for him

at this point then, the narrative is pretty clear. it was once a friendship, that slipped away from both of them because of distance, and although brandt once had reverence for it, he’s soured on the idea. he wishes he could be good enough to play with his brother too. he hates that luke hughes is good enough at hockey to do it. luke to him is less so an extension of his brothers, but an obstacle for brandt to overcome, an obstacle that stands in the way of everything he wants.

but so far it’s been pretty one sided…right? it’s all kind of just been brandt’s feelings toward luke, right?

behold, the glorious moment that lives entirely rent free in my mind, every. single. day.

i soooo wish i had the video for this (screw tsn for wiping their archives so often) BUT TRUST WHEN I WATCHED IT FOR THE FIRST TIME I AUDIBLY GASPED.

he said it with so much fucking snark, and an EYE ROLL. the inflappable luke hughes, who has seemingly never let an opponent get in the way of him and his friends having fun and kicking ass at the same time, is bothered by a dig from brandt clarke. that didn't even mention him directly! that was more about techniques of the game than it was about the usa players! "he can say what he wants", but he didn't even say anything about YOU

genuinely, i will thank mark masters for bringing this up with luke forever, he's so valid for that, he knew we needed this narrative.

what's even better is that THE NEXT DAY during the semi-final? guess who scores the game-winning goal. and guess who just happens to be flopping like a fish on the ice during it, trying to prevent it from going in.

and thus brandt/luke is born! as taylor describes it as, it is bitch ass cunt (luke) for cunt ass bitch (brandt). they are each other's equals and opposites. they're both cocky and sure of themselves and can give it as good as it gets, and what they like about each other is what happens when that is stripped away. they are undoubtedly MY favourite luke hughes narrative, and the only one i feel truly captures his narrative essence, away from his brothers. sure, others are cute and i can see where people are coming from, but nothing gets luke as much as this gets luke.

this is luke, unfiltered, and it's only brandt that can bring it out of him.

[softroundbunny]

My fantasy 2

I’m so glad you liked it! I was really nervous to send that. And thank you, I try so hard to be the best that I can be so that someday I CAN be a great husband and father :)

I 100% agree. I mostly just use the word “kink” because that’s how I can describe it best, but I agree. It goes much deeper than that, I don’t say it much about things in my life but it’s almost a spiritual yearning and physical desire. A greater purpose that somehow emerges from your heart and soul. It turns you on and makes your heart flutter just thinking about it and the possibility of it. But again, it’s not JUST a physical feeling, it’s also a feeling of a desire to express such a deep and beautiful love. 

I’d like to share another scenario I kind of imagine sometimes when I’m alone if that’s alright? Like I said, just reading your page and the soft nice scenarios gets me so inspired and yearning for it.  

You amaze me with how strong you are. That even at your size, and with the little ones that you carry, you’re still so independent. You stand up just fine on your own, playing with the other kids on the floor, chasing after the rambunctious ones, getting their lunches ready, and getting your proper rest. However, I appreciate that you’re also not afraid to ask for help when you need it, especially come mommas bath time. It’s hard for you to reach around these days and it’s hard for you to get -all- of you clean on your own.

Prepping the nice steamy shower to exactly the temperature you like, helping you strip down out of your restrictive clothes, and just stopping for a minute, admiring what I see. “What is it babe?” “I’m just admiring the view that’s all~” “Admiring what? I look huge and-“ I put my finger to your lips, “Hey hey hey, none of that self doubt ok? You are the most beautiful woman in the world to me, before you were pregnant AND now.” *I get behind you and snake my arms around your cushy waist to the front of your taut belly* *Whispering in your ear* “I love you and every beautiful baby you’re carrying. These? *I trace your stretch marks with my finger* Are awards to the best momma on the planet. They’re symbols of your love, OUR love. You work so hard growing and making room for them, and I couldn’t be prouder.” You turn your head and we share a long sweet kiss as your fingers interlock with mine, feeling the babies playing.

I help you into the tub, both of us getting properly wet. I see the relief wash over you as the warm water soothes your aching body. I start to wash my own body as you take care of what you can manage on your own first before I help. You pick up a bottle of soap and put a healthy squirt in your hands, lathering up. Rinsing my hair, I watch you rub nice big circles around your shining wet tummy. My heart can’t help but melt watching you so tenderly rub the soap, staring into space with that beautiful smile, humming a lullaby. The gentle movements, knowing you’re in pure ecstasy, taking good care of yourself and the babies. “Honey?” You pause for a moment “Hm?~” “Have you started thinking of names yet?” “Oh of course, as soon as I knew we were having multiples again I started a list ❤️” At the end you give your hips a healthy sway. “I’ll list them off…would you please?~” you hand me the bottle of the lavender soap. I put a healthy amount in my hands and work it into your shoulders, massaging away any stress, I feel your tension ease into me. “Mmmm~ that’s the spot. For girls I was thinking Jennifer, Marie, Grace, orrr Sherrie.” My hands move down, and I cup each sensitive breast in my hands, lathering them up carefully, running my thumbs over your  nipples. “I’ll try to be careful, I know how tender they are.” “*You carefully breathe in* Thank you baby❤️. For boys I was thinking Samuel, Hunter, Peter, and Rudolph.” I move down from your breasts, sliding down your soft sides, my hands gliding in a U shape as they fill the curvature of your under belly. “Wow, I hadn’t noticed how low you got…it’s getting close huh?” “Mhm~, I can feel the way they’re shifting they’re getting ready to meet us, I’m so excited.” “Me too bunny ❤️and I know the kids are excited to meet them too. It must be heavy sitting so low, do you want me to hold it for a little while? Take the pressure off?” “Oh yes please would you? 🥺” You lean back into me as my hands press up on your under belly, lifting the weight off of your hips. “Oooooh that’s so much better. Thank you honey.” We sit there for a few minutes, you taking in the moment of weightless respite, not having to carry the weight while still being connected to the little ones. It feels so strange to hold them all, in one big ball feeling them kick and shift in my arms. “You ready?” “Mhm” I slowly ease your belly back down. I pat the underside of your belly and kiss your neck. We shut off the water and I help you out of the tub. I take a nice big fluffy towel and help dry you off, of course I can’t help but plant kisses everywhere I get the opportunity. Loving every soft and welcoming inch of you, your gravid swollen middle, your milk heavy breasts, the nape of your tender neck, your cute bubble butt, and of course your thighs. Those beautiful beautiful thighs. While I dry your legs working my hands up your cushy thighs. “Let’s say you and I…move this to the bedroom? That is if you’re even up for it.” You look down at me with a sultry look, you grab my hand and I stand. You waddle, guiding me to the bedroom, “Oh, I’m still up for it~ why don’t you remind me how I got -this- pregnant in the first place❤️” 

I hope you like this one too, it’s cushy and soft (like you lol). You make me feel brave enough to share what’s in my heart and I thank you for that ❤️

another beautiful ask from a kind anon !!! i loved reading this 🥹