#chapter 8……. Chapter 8!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[keii4ii]

Based on multiple things, my interpretation is that 1) the white butterflies belong to Carlo; and 2) the entire DLC is about P getting to honor what Carlo truly wanted, after everything he's been manipulated into doing over the first 8 chapters of the basegame. It's like finally giving someone a proper burial, after they had been brutally desecrated.

But what the white butterflies actually are isn't important to me. What matters to me is what they meant to P, what he thought about them, what he got out of the events of the DLC.

[elleaitch22]

Love on Fire

Chapter 8: Hope, Still

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

A/N: I have a concussion so please forgive any errors. I wrote this with sunglasses on with blue light ones on top, so I’d be following doctor’s order lol. I’m just doing my best! Feel free to have comments and drop some reviews in my inbox so I feel better lol. I hope you love it! xx Elle

Warnings: Fertility treatments, medical procedures, mentioned pregnancy loss, grief

Word Count: 3.6k Words

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Like always, Paige wasn’t joking when she told Azzi they would be doing everything together.

She set up a subscription for prenatal vitamins, “The blogs I read said to start taking them as soon as you know you’re going to try to get pregnant.”

She purchased Omega 3s, something Azzi didn’t even know she needed this early. “Our baby isn’t going to be the dumbest in the class, Az. Omega 3s promote heart health and brain development.” The brunette almost giggled at how much Paige sounded like an infomercial.

When Azzi was reading on the couch one night, the blonde tossed her phone into her lap.

“What the fuck, P?” She questioned.

Paige rolled her eyes and gestured to her device. “Look at the picture.” Azzi’s heart broke a little at the child in the wheelchair. “That kid paralyzed, Azzi!” She exclaimed. “I know a lot of things can cause that, but we can try to prevent it if you’re taking choline.”

“Paige,” Azzi started. “You’re the one who insisted on setting up my pill organizer. If you think it’s a good idea, put it in there. I’ll take whatever’s there.” She finished with a smile.

Her best friend sighed and leaned back into the sofa with a smile. “Thanks for trusting me with this, Azzi. Means a lot.”

“No, Paige. Thank you for doing all this.” She reached for her hand. “For making sure I’m not doing any of this alone.”

Paige pulled her into a tight hug. “I promised that you wouldn’t go through any of this alone, and I meant that.”

Azzi smiled warmly, “No, I mean everything.” She looked up. “I haven’t been home since…everything. And you haven’t pressured me into going back home. And you – I just, it means more than I can tell you.”

“I think we’re at home whenever we’re together.” She replied lowly. “You don’t ever have to go back there. We can go wherever you want.” She finished.

Times like these were the times Azzi started to believe what Katie had always told her about Paige. Maybe she was just as in love with Azzi as Azzi was with her. But asking her about her feelings now, when everything is so emotional, could seem almost shady. Paige clearly had feelings involved when it came to Azzi’s baby, and she didn’t want her best friend to be with her just for a kid that she didn’t even have yet.

So, Azzi would wait. Well, she’d talk to Katie about everything first, but then she’d wait.

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

Her leg wouldn’t stop tapping. Not out of anxiety. Azzi wasn’t even nervous; she was more so restless. Kinda like how Paige was in college. She was excited because she’d be able to work with a new doctor, a good doctor who she was already comfortable with.

She looked over to say something to Paige but paused. The blonde had picked Azzi up from the bakery right after she finished a shift. She still had on her PG County Fire Department sweats and pullover. There was a big structure fire last night, so she was exhausted. She was slumped into the chair, legs stretched wide, head resting on the wall. Even though her eyes were closed and she looked asleep, her thumb still ran over Azzi’s knuckles.

So, Azzi just sat back and watched her.

“Azzi Fudd?” A redheaded nurse peeked her head out from the door.

Before she could say anything to Paige, blue eyes popped open, and she was pulling Azzi towards the back.

The woman took her vitals. “So, is this your first baby?”

Azzi’s brows furrowed. She had one baby, but she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to mention Peanut. “Sort of,” she answered, voice thick.

At the confused look on the nurse’s face, Paige jumped in. “She had a miscarriage on November 3rd. She was ten weeks and four days.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, sweetheart.” The woman says guiding the pair back to an exam room. “Dr. Nelson-Ododa has helped so many people in your situation, and I’m sure she’ll be able to do the same for you both.”

When she walked out, the room was quiet.

Azzi was nervous, like actually nervous this time. She absentmindedly brought the sleeve of her favorite hoodie (that really belonged to Paige) up to her nose and inhaled the comforting scent, willing herself to calm down. She looked at the paper gown on the exam table.

“Maybe I’ll just wait to put it on later,” She muttered to herself, moving away from the table.

Paige shifted behind her, going to sit in the chair next to the table. Sensing Azzi’s nerves, she pulled the girl closer to her. “What’s going on, Princess?”

She played with the strings on her oversized hoodie. “The last time I was on one of those I – I’d be in my second trimester by now.” She shook her head. “I don’t know, I just feel like I’m really in my head.”

Azzi was pulled in between firm thighs. “You don’t have to sit there if you don’t want to, not until Liv says you have to.” Paige pulled her onto her lap with a firm grip. “This is why I’m here, Azzi. It’s going to be hard, and it might take time, but I’ll be here for it all. When you’re moody from all the meds, when you’re bruised from all the shots, when you finally get that baby. I’ll be here. I knew what I signed up for when I told you I was all in.”

Azzi didn’t say anything, just tucked her head in her best friend’s neck.

That is exactly how Liv found them; Paige’s arms protectively wrapped around Azzi while she held her in her lap. “Y’all are just as sickening as always.” She grimaced. “Happy to see that all of this has made you guys closer.”

“What’s up, Liv?” Anyone could hear the smirk in Paige’s voice. “She’s nervous.”

The doctor laughed. “Yeah, I can see that.” She paused, rolling her stool over to the pair. “How about I give my spiel, and you can ask your questions and everything. Yeah?” She offered.

Azzi shifted, bringing her feet to the ground and turning to face Liv. “Yeah, okay.”

“IVF is going to be hard,” She started. “Most families have success within the first three trials, but for some, it takes longer. So, I need you to know that even if the first cycle doesn’t take, don’t get too discouraged.”

“But what if I have another miscarriage?” Azzi questioned.

Liv reached out, placing a hand on her arm, “Then we take a break and try again. But only if you want. You’re the one in control here, Azzi.”

At the brunette’s nod, the obstetrician continued. “So today, we’re going to do an ultrasound and some bloodwork. I will send three prescriptions to your pharmacy for birth control, FSH, and the trigger shot. You will take those for eight days before you start taking FSH injections for days nine through nineteen. On day twenty, you’ll do the trigger shot. And two days later, we’ll do the egg retrieval. You’ll be asleep for that. The rest of the process depends on how many eggs we get. But you’ll have a transfer four to six days after the retrieval, and you’ll take progesterone until you take a pregnancy test. The clinic will send you all of the sperm donors we have on hand, but there are filters, so you’re not going through hundreds of profiles. We need the selected donor five days before your retrieval. You need to start taking prenatals if you haven’t already started. Any questions?”

Azzi’s mind had blue-screened with all of the information. And that was why she had Paige.

“She’s already taking prenatal vitamins. They’re from Ritual. She’s taking Omega 3s and choline too. Should she be taking more?” She asked, tapping away on her phone.

Liv shook her head. “That’s fine. She’ll need to start calcium and iron, but not until she’s pregnant.”

“And what is FSH?” She questioned. “When will the shots have to be given.”

“FSH is follicle stimulating hormone – it is what will tell the ovaries to make eggs. She’ll need that injection once every morning. Then the trigger shot will be given at night. Then after the transfer, she’ll need one progesterone injection every night and take a pill twice daily.”

Paige nodded, typing in more information. “How many eggs are ideal?”

“10-15 is where we want to be. That way we have wiggle room in terms of viability.” Liv answered.

“It’s just a lot,” Azzi said, eyes wide and overwhelmed.

Paige handed Liv her phone, “Can you look and make sure I got everything?” She held Azzi’s face in her hands, turning her to put their foreheads together. “It is a lot, but you’re not doing it by yourself. And think about how good it will be when you’re finally able to hold your baby in your arms.”

Azzi nodded as Paige encouraged her before she remembered. “Did you ever get the results from Peanut?”

She looked up from the notes on Paige’s phone. “Yes, we did. Your baby had a chromosomal abnormality. We do not implant embryos if they have abnormalities, so it shouldn’t happen again.”

The brunette turned to Paige, tears in her eyes. “It wasn’t my fault?”

Paige pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. “No, Az, of course it wasn’t your fault.”

“Your notes look good, P. Most partners aren’t even as involved as you are.” She smirked, passing the phone back. “So, does this sound like something you’re still wanting to do now?”

“Yeah, I’m just nervous,” Azzi replied.

Liv stood with a smile. “Perfect, if anyone deserves to be a mom, it’s you.” She walked to the door, turning back at the last second. “Change into the gown and Estelle will be back to take your blood and do the initial ultrasound.”

Azzi pulled off her leggings and sweatshirt, not even caring that Paige was in the room, before sliding into the uncomfortable paper gown.

Seconds later, her phone vibrated.

Airdrop from Paigey 💗🧑🏼‍🚒🔥❤️‍🔥:

Jellybean Journal 🍬💗🌱🧬

12/17-12/24 – birth control

12/25-1/4 – fsh injection, 1x/morning

1/5 – trigger shot, pm

1/7 – egg retrieval (pls 10-15!)

1/12 – TRANSFER DAY!

1/13-1/26 – progesterone pill am & pm, progesterone injections 1x/night

1/26 – TEST DAY!!! Lil Jellybean is growing???

Reminders:

Azzi’s strong and she can do this

Prenatal vitamins every day

Healthy diet means healthy baby

“Thank you for writing all of this down. There’s no way I would have remembered this on my own.”

The rest of the appointment went smoothly. Paige held her hand when Estelle did the ultrasound and whispered corny jokes to distract her during the blood draw.

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

That night, Azzi didn’t even stop to speak to Paige before going to the bathroom. She came out twenty minutes later with her hair in a messy bun, makeup removed, her favorite pair of boxers, and an oversized t-shirt.

“Wanna eat Cava and help me pick a baby daddy?” She grinned.

Her MacBook was connected to the television in Paige’s bedroom. Both women were snuggled closely as she selected some filters.

“Obviously over 6’; can’t have my baby daddy be shorter than me.” Azzi grinned.

Paige’s brows furrowed, “Az, you’re 5’10.”

“Yeah, but my attitude’s 6’7. So, I compromised and put 6’0.” She shrugged. “College educated, obviously.”

Paige took the laptop from her hands. “Personality? Loyal, intelligent, funny, protective, driven.”

“Oh, for medical history, pick no cancer, Alzheimer’s, or dementia, please. Then see what we got.”

They were left with a whopping five choices.

The Overachiever was East Asian with dark hair and eyes. He has a degree in engineering and music. He liked to code symphonies using AI and play the violin. He said he’s most like a cat; quiet, persistent, and humble.

“I don’t like him,” Paige said. “AI is bad for the environment, but it’s one of his hobbies.”

Azzi just giggled and moved on to the next.

The Golden Retriever was a white man with blond hair and blue eyes.

“He would go triple platinum in Germany if we were in the 1940s,” Paige interjected.

“P, you have blonde hair and blue eyes.” Azzi scoffed playfully.

Blondie rolled her eyes, “Yeah, but from a box.”

He’s got a degree in family science and is in medical school so he can be a therapist. He liked trail running, mentoring children, and fostering cats and dogs. He said he’s most like a Great Pyrenees; loyal, playful, and affectionate.

“What if your kid likes cats more than dogs, Azzi? Absolutely not.” Paige said as Azzi added him to the ‘maybe’ list.

The Science-Bro was next, but as soon as they found out he had a PhD in neuroscience, they vetoed him. Paige had never recovered from Harley, her crazy ex who was studying neuroscience.

“We only have two more, Paige. Stop being so picky.”

They really liked The Artist. He was Black and he had a degree in fine arts. He painted murals and did sculpting classes for schools in underserved communities. He said he was like a red fox; quiet, observant, and clever.

“He’s going in the maybe pile, I don’t care what you say,” Azzi smirked before her best friend could say anything.

“I like him too, Azzi!”

The last option was The Storyteller. He was a Hispanic man with black hair and green eyes. He studied literature and philosophy. He liked journaling, writing stories, and cooking in his free time. He said he was most like an elephant; emotional, empathetic, and protective.

“Every man I know who calls themselves empathetic or emotionally intelligent are some of the worst people I’ve ever met.” Azzi grimaced.

“So, we’re in between the Golden Retriever and the Artist,” Paige said. “I think the artist is your best bet. I think his quiet would match yours well, and he’s super smart. And look at what he does for work; he’s very compassionate.” She finished, sitting back.

Azzi pouted, “I was going to say the golden retriever. I think that energy would help balance everything out. And he’s playful like you. Even when you annoy me, I still want you to bother me.”

“So, you want to have a baby with the male version of me?” Paige joked.

The brunette stared incredulously, “Of course I do! You’re my favorite person in the world, Paige. If someone’s gonna take your place, I’d prefer it be someone who acts a least a little bit like you.”

The blonde knew how much Azzi loved her, but hearing it said so casually like it didn’t shake the foundation of her life, made her chest ache in ways she couldn’t name.

Paige nodded, tucking her chin to her chest to try to hide the blush rising. “Alrighty then.”

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

Once the IVF process really starts, Paige is overjoyed that Azzi has practically moved in.

Azzi had always been a morning person. And now, every morning at six, she rolled out of bed, winced as she padded to the kitchen, and lifted her sweatshirt for Paige.

It didn’t matter if she was on shift or at home, Paige gave her the injections for eleven straight days.

"Ready, Mama?" Paige whispered every time, voice gentler than air.

Azzi nodded, eyes already closed.

“You’re doing amazing, Mama.” Paige held the ice pack to her belly, kneeling close.

The shot was always given quickly, leaving Azzi with only a second to wince.

And like clockwork, Paige would press her forehead into the flat, tanned stomach. “Please bless this step. Please help this prepare Azzi’s body for Jellybean. Bless her and hold her as she brings Baby Jellybean home.” She finished every prayer with a kiss below her belly button.

Then a warm compress.

Then a whisper: "You're doing amazing. I’m so proud of you."

When Azzi started bruising on Day 12, she stayed on her knees longer, pressing a gentle kiss into each purpling patch, leaving Azzi to feel her lips for hours.

When Azzi got more agitated and irritable, which started after Day 15, Paige made sure she had a pastry and her bunk waiting for Azzi to have a snack and then a nap.

Sometimes, the crew teased.

"Becky, your girl’s here!" Cam would shout.

"Tell your wife we’ll pay her for some muffins!” Ant yelled.

But then they’d see Paige hurry down the hallway, focused and soft.

By Day 18, Azzi cried. From the bloating, from the pressure, from the way she hated her body for not cooperating. Paige found her curled on the bakery couch, hoodie pulled over her face.

She didn't speak. Just crawled under the blanket and let Paige spoon-feed her cut strawberries and Nutella.

On Day 20, they did the trigger shot.

The prayer changed.

“We have done all the work. Please prepare her body for a successful retrieval. Please help us get at least ten eggs. You can do more than we can ask or even think, so please do it now.”

On the morning of the egg retrieval, Paige is wearing a matching sweatsuit with Azzi. Liv let her hold Azzi’s hand until she was under, and the doctor promised that she would be able to see her again within the hour.

For forty-three minutes, Paige prayed.

She prayed that everything went right with the retrieval. She prayed for more than ten eggs. She prayed that most of the eggs would be healthy. She prayed that they wouldn’t have to do all of this again. She prayed that no matter what happened, Azzi would be okay.

She prayed for the same things. Over and over until Liv came back out to the waiting room to tell her that Azzi was in recovery. “We got thirteen!”

Paige let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “That’s enough for multiple cycles. Like if she wanted more kids.”

She sat next to her bed, holding her hand tightly.

When Azzi woke up, groggy and sore, her first words were, "Did they get them?"

Paige laughed through a throat full of emotion. "Thirteen, Mama. Lucky number."

Azzi smiled in the recovery bed. “Then we’re one step closer.”

“Well, we still have to test viability, but she should end up with at least eight embryos. That is more than enough to have multiple babies.” Liv smiled brightly.

Paige pulled the brunette into a tight hug. “I knew you could do it.” She spoke into her curls.

“Congratulations, Mommy.” Liv smiled.

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

January 12, 2026. Day 27. Transfer day.

They showed up at the clinic in matching sweatsuits.

Two tiny little embryos were waiting.

They held hands while the room was prepped. Azzi barely spoke. Paige whispered under her breath: little affirmations. Tiny prayers.

“New Year, New Chances.”

The transfer was fast.

Paige kissed Azzi’s hand. She looked so still like she didn’t want to breathe wrong and ruin it.

They went home and began the next stretch: thirteen days of progesterone injections. Every night. 8 pm.

The next thirteen days were rough.

The injections burned more than the FSH. The bruises were deeper than the FSH.

Sometimes Azzi cried. Sometimes she yelled. Sometimes she just sat, teeth clenched, eyes closed.

Every night, Paige whispered, "That’s one more day closer to Jellybean."

They didn’t name the embryos. They didn’t call it Peanut. They didn’t get a name, not until everything was confirmed. It felt safer that way.

Paige tried to hope for both of them.

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

On January 26, Azzi took the test alone.

She had waited. She thought waiting would help. Would earn her some kind of miracle.

Negative.

Her hands shook. She set the test down like it was fragile. Like hope could still shatter it further.

She didn’t cry. Not at first.

She just stared. Sat on the floor. Wrapped herself in her favorite hoodie and waited.

When Paige showed up, flowers in hand, Azzi opened the door and said it plainly.

"It didn’t stick."

Paige didn’t say anything. Just pulled her close in the doorway and held on.

No more injections. No more alarms. Just silence.

They took six weeks off.

Azzi went back to therapy. Her therapist asked gently, "What would it mean to try again? Remember, you’re the one in control here."

Azzi stared at the ceiling. “It would mean... choosing hope. One more time.”

Weeks passed. Azzi found rhythm again. She found pieces of herself.

One night, she and Paige were folding laundry. The dryer hummed. Outside, it rained.

“I’m going to try one last time,” Azzi said softly.

Paige froze, arms full of hoodies.

“I just – I need to know I gave it everything. Even if it doesn’t work. This has to be my last try. At least for a little while. I can’t do this again, Paige.”

Paige nodded, jaw tight. “I’ll be right there. Every second.”

Azzi could kiss her. Of course, Paige would be with her through all of this.

They didn’t cry. They just stood together in the quiet hum of a life rebuilt.

And just for a second, they hoped.

And even though hope was painful, giving it up was worse.

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

They will have permanent joy and love revelations soon, I promise!

[electricgg]

Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Chapter 12: Don’t Wanna Drive Another Mile Without Knowin’ You’re Breathin’

Masterlist

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 (Here!)

Twins are two halves of the same whole.

In many mythologies, twins are said to share a bond deeper than that of ordinary siblings. 

The bond between twins is often described as unique and incredibly strong, starting even before birth and potentially lasting a lifetime. This bond is frequently characterized by a deep connection, a sense of oneness, and a high degree of nonverbal communication.

Never one without the other. 

Not even in death.

Pietro had never known life without Wanda. 

The thought had never crossed his mind; it simply wasn’t a possibility to him. The sky was blue. The grass is green. Ice is cold. Fire is hot.

Pietro and Wanda, never one without the other.

Pietro and Wanda, always beside each other.

Pietro and Wanda, never far away from one another.

Pietro and Wanda, against the world and never away from each other.

Pietro didn’t exist without Wanda, and Wanda didn’t exist without Pietro. Sounded simple and logical, right? 

It sucks that the universe seemed to have a vendetta against the Maximoff family and loved to see them act as it’s puppets in the scenario of it’s favorite dramatic tragedy play.

Pietro had never known life without Wanda, and he refused to do so.

Three years. Three years since he last saw her. Three years since The Hex. Three years looking for her across the globe. Three years of dead ends and false alarms. Three years of nonstop searches. Three years without Wanda.

Three long years, feeling incomplete.

He could describe it as phantom pain. A missing limb, or more exactly, missing half of his body. There had been countless times when he had turned his head to cross looks with eyes that were no longer there. Times when he had talked to the empty air, expecting a voice to answer back. So many times, his fingers tried to grasp thin, long, gloved fingers just to curl them into tight fists or pull at the seams of his clothes until the fabric tore off.

Erik (whom Pietro had slowly warmed up to call Pops, especially after Wanda had gone… after he started to search for her) had made it his mission to get Pietro out of his spiraling thoughts whenever this would happen.

Pietro had rejected his efforts at first, snapping at him and telling him to mind his own business. Hurling insults and harsh words at him, or speeding away from the man as soon as he felt his stare on him.

But Erik didn’t let his attitude affect him. He was a patient man, and though Pietro was the opposite of patient, he knew his son was bound to crumble at some point from pushing himself so hard.

Erik would be there, waiting with open arms to catch his son when he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together any longer.

And he did.

──── ∗ ⋅◈��� ∗ ────

Genosha was always open to the X-Men, despite their history with Magneto and the Brotherhood of Mutants.

Pietro had gone a few times with the team. But most of the visits were with Wanda at his side, trying to get him and their father to bond with each other despite his obvious animosity towards the older man. 

He knew what she was trying to do. Pietro had always known that Wanda wanted a family.

Their story was complicated, to say the least. The two of them had been raised by their maternal uncles, their mother having passed away a few months after giving birth to them. Not a single clue of who their father was until they reached the age of nineteen.

Back then, Pietro had been ecstatic to know about him. Even convincing Wanda to find him and finally meet him face to face.

Of course, that all went to hell when the twins had an encounter with Magneto, trying to destroy governments with his group of loyal mutants in the name of getting justice and rights for their people.

It wasn’t the best introduction, obviously.

Especially when the twins joined the brotherhood without telling the man of their blood relation.

For multiple years, Pietro and Erik’s relationship became a lot more complicated. He grew tired very quickly of his father’s constant need to ‘destroy humankind’, and spiteful of his lack of acknowledgment for his efforts to get him noticed by Erik.

Which led to him quitting the Brotherhood with Wanda and joining the X-Men… after doing a very dramatic reveal that resembled that Star Wars movie, but with switched roles.

As said before, a very complicated relationship.

Nonetheless, Pietro’s instincts led him to the only place his subconsciousness currently recognized as ‘home’.

Why was it Genosha, or more specifically, his father’s house, that he recognized as home? Who knows. 

Was it just the place that resembled his childhood home uncannily? 

Or was it the person who instantly walked out of the door to take him into his arms and shove him against his chest, consoling him while his limbs trembled out of exhaustion, adrenaline, and hopelessness as he wailed loud enough to make glass shatter?

Was home a place or a person? Pietro knew the answer.

Wanda was his home.

His home was gone.

But his father was here. Muttering to him in his mother tongue, words that Pietro did not understand, but judging by the soft tone and gentle, jagged hands going up and down his back and through his hair, he knew what Erik was doing.

“I-I can’t-,” His voice sounded strained and rough, words spilling too fast between sobs. “I don’t feel her. I can’t see her. I can’t find her. She won’t let me find her-”

“She is not ready,” Erik muttered. “She’ll come to us when she is ready.”

“I need her.” He sobbed, fingers clutching at his father’s shirt. “I can’t go on like this. I’m lost. I’m so fucking lost- and I just need to know if she is alive-”

“She is,” the older man declared. “You know that she is stronger than us. She is in pain, Pietro. Give her time.”

“Her pain is my pain!” He screams. “ She doesn’t have to do it alone! She mourns, and I mourn with her! It’s always been like this!”

His body slumps down, the adrenaline shutdown hitting way too fast. If it weren’t for the fact that Erik was already holding him, he would have eaten the dirt. The man didn’t even make a sound when the white headed boy stopped holding his body weight back.

They stayed outside until the next morning. Erik never moved him away, didn’t even complain about kneeling for those long hours or the shattered windows. Pietro only cried until he passed out in his father’s arms, and even then, tears still spilled out of his eyes.

That day, it had marked a year since Wanda’s disappearance.

That day, Pietro and Erik’s relationship became less complicated.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

It was a very rocky start, but it had turned out alright in Pietro’s opinion.

“What has you so deep in your thoughts, my son?” 

Erik seemed to have been watching him this whole time. He stood by the door of his room, looking at him with clear concern on his face.

Pietro had a bedroom at Erik’s house. Apparently, his old man had been more sentimental than he gave him credit for. From the moment Genosha was established as an official country, Erik added numerous rooms to his house, two of which were located directly next to his own room. One for Pietro and another for Wanda, who had stayed there a couple of times when she came to visit Erik by herself. Both Erik and Pietro would sit for hours on her bed in silence, simply letting time pass by.

“Nothin’,” He muttered, sighing deeply as he leaned back against the headboard of his bed. “Just got off a call with Hank.”

“That sounds like there’s more to that call.” His father approached a chair by his desk, which was filled with intricate LEGO figures. Both unfinished and finished.

…So what if he was a full-grown man who liked to build Legos as a pastime? He has already broken plenty of Rubik's cubes and fidget toys. He needed to keep his hands busy, and Legos worked, so sue him for finding a coping mechanism.

And it wasn’t like his dad judged him for it.  All those boxes he finds weekly on the dinner table are answer enough.

Pietro shrugged, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth as he scratched his head. “Just- I’m just helping him out with someone.”

That made Erik lift an eyebrow. “Someone?”

“Yeah, a kid,” his voice softened. “She has been melting off her shoes because of her mutation, so I let Hank look into my stats so he could make her something more resistant.”

“Ah, so she has super speed.”

The younger man smiled to himself, “Looks like it. Logan is keeping an eye on her and a couple of more kids. Something about a case, I think?”

“And why is this keeping you so deep in your thoughts?” His father asked slowly, as if hesitating to pry too much.

Probably because he already knew the answer.

Pietro went silent for a few moments, eyes wandering to the window showcasing the orange evening sky. A suncatcher was hanging from the top corner, letting the light reflect through the crystal.

Wanda had made it for him a few years back.

“Twins sometimes represent opposites. Like the Sun and the Moon,” she had said while handing him the gift. “You are my Sun, Piet. The Moon can’t shine without it.”

“Wanda’s oldest was just like me,” He said. “Same mutation. Same attitude.”

‘Same personality, too,’ his mind supplied, which got a wet chuckle from him.

He rubbed his nose quickly, gaze lowering down as he shrugged. “Guess it hit a bit too close, y’know?”

Erik’s eyes crinkled, a rare smile pulling at his lips.

Pietro didn’t speak a lot about what happened inside The Hex. Neither of them did, the subject still too sore despite having happened three years ago. 

“I know it’s way off base, but,” Pietro hesitated, palms rubbing against the fabric of his pants up and down. “Somewhere, in the back of my head, there’s this annoying pull that has me believing those kids are still alive. Still out there.”

“Pietro, you know that-”

“I know, I know!” he rose from his spot and started to pace around the room. “But something is telling me that they’re still alive, and I can’t help it! I mean, c’mon, Wanda’s powers are just-”

He groaned, slamming his hands on the desk and rattling the LEGO pieces and figurines, some of them falling on the carpet. Pietro closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, head hanging low.

“Maybe I’m just reaching out too much.” He uttered.

His father stayed quiet for a moment before standing up and reaching for his shoulder. Slowly turning him so they could see face to face.

Erik’s chest churned deep inside as he noticed the redness on the corners of Pietro’s eyes. His thumb gently rubbed the tender skin, gaining a murmur of complaint from his son.

“You could be right,” Pietro’s eyes perked up. “Wanda’s powers are beyond our comprehension, and there’s a chance the twins could have survived. They’re hers after all.”

Pietro took a deep breath. “So you believe me?”

“Of course I do,” Erik sighed. “But there’s also the chance that we could be wrong, and I don’t want you to jump to conclusions without taking this carefully and slowly.”

The younger man gave him a deadpan stare, clearly letting him know that does last words were somewhat ironic and a bit too much to ask of him.

But his dad was right, they needed to know more information. And thread with it carefully.

“Where exactly is this girl?” the older man asked. “Is she at the institute? Perhaps we can ask Charles for some insight.”

Pietro shook his head. “No, she isn’t there. Logan is still waiting to finish the mission, then he’ll move the kids to the institute.”

Erik frowned at that, his hands gently squeezing Pietro’s shoulders. “And where are they?”

With a roll of his eyes and a scowl, Pietro spat out the name of the city.

“Gotham."

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Damian didn’t remember when it was the last time he walked through this specific hallway.

Back in the early days when he moved into the manor, he had taken it upon himself to explore the grounds. Get familiar with the new environment, or something like that. Probably his training pushing him to just know all the exits and entrances around the big building.

But this hallway, he avoided it as if it were the plague.

Especially after he found out who exactly resided in one of the farther rooms.

At some point, he stopped actively avoiding it and just forgot about it. There was nothing in there that could need his attention or concern him.

Out of sight, out of mind, right?

He would probably choke the air out of his past self for thinking like that. For not being more willing to look past the whole ‘firstborn’ jealousy that burned through his blood when he met his sister.

Damian’s mind was a mess. Too many questions. Too much anger. Too much guilt. 

The guilt had caught him off guard. 

One of the things that stood out about Damian was that he was prideful. He held honor and pride above anything else. He was proud of being the son of the bat. It was his greatest honor and goal to take on the mantle once his father retired. He never apologized for being blunt. Never regretted it or felt guilty about it .

But as he stood before the door of her bedroom, all he could recognize was that bothersome feeling panging against his chest.

Finding out about her relation to Harvey Dent had put many things into perspective.

Did she actively hide it from everyone? How did he never notice? Was she also ashamed of being related to a villain? Why did she never say anything about it? Why didn’t she come to him? 

It would have been logical. He also had a direct relation to a villain: his grandfather and his mother. And while he no longer related to their views, he grew up around them. He had to leave his old home behind and embrace this new way of living. He had to adapt. He had to fit in.

And so did she.

He could only imagine what her life was like before Father took her in. A mentally unstable mother, now interned in a psychiatric ward. Apparently hostile and willing to harm her while having manic episodes. An uncle who was a crime lord, who was not able to take the hint that she was better off with her true family. Sending endless letters and writing pretty words about changing and wanting to move away from Gotham, so that she could live a normal life.

Away from the media. Away from scandals. Away from them.

Damian could understand why his father hid the letters. He was still mad that he hid them from everyone on the team, of course. Knowing about this information would have prevented a lot of things, but Damian could see why he did it.

What he couldn’t understand was why his Father hadn’t killed the bastard already.

It would have made things so much easier in his opinion.

Shaking away his thoughts to the back of his mind, Damian opened the door to the bedroom quietly. The creaking wood made him look down the hall, hoping that nobody would come sniffing around.

He didn't need anyone else giving him a reprimand about privacy.

He had his father's perspective on this mess, now he need hers.

Only the curtains fluttered by the tall glass window, despite no wind blowing since it was closed.

Thinking nothing of it, he went inside the room, closing the door behind him.

The first thing he noticed was how cold and dark the room was. There was no light entering through the window, as if a dark cloud had blocked the sun outside the moment he made his way inside. He could feel the goosebumps breaking under his school uniform. 

He could only see the outline of the furniture around the room. The bed, the bookshelf, the wardrobe, and the desk. All of them left a chilling sensation down his back.

But Damian simply walked deeper into the room, each step heavy against the hardwood floor, until he reached the bookshelf.

His gaze moved over the backs of the books, starting from the very top shelf. Most of them were different genres of literature. He noticed that a significant portion of them had Spanish titles and a consistent repetition of genre types that he could recognize from having read them in his private lessons back in the league.

He never imagined his sister was an avid reader of Magical Realism.

The room turned colder and colder with every moment he continued to stand there. He could dare to imagine that if he let out a breath, he would be able to see it, just like in the cold winter days. If it weren’t for the fact that they were just starting October, he would deem it a possibility.

Then, his eyes landed on a book right in the corner of the lower shelf, sticking out slightly from its spot. As he began to crouch down, he noticed some bookmarking post-its standing on the top of the pages. Its title was worn off by time, barely able to read what it said, until the words registered and translated in his head.

‘The House of the Spirits’ by Isabel Allende.

Before he could reach for the book, a freezing, wet hand grabbed his ankle and pulled hard. Making him stumble and hit his forehead on the edge of a shelf and fall to the ground with a surprised yell.

Damian quickly turned his body upwards, sliding back against the bookshelf as he looked around the now completely dark room.

He couldn’t see shit, but he could here something moving.

Or more like someone.

The creaks of the floor put him on the edge, way too slow and scattered all over the place for him to pinpoint where exactly they were coming from. Cold sweat goes down his temple, making his skin even colder.

Then, he gets pulled again. This time, he gets dragged through the room and underneath the bed. 

He could feel his limbs hitting some plastic and the clattering of small boxes getting spread all over the floor. His nails scratched over the wood, grunting and struggling to kick off whoever was gripping his leg.

Hands wrapping around the neck of his shirt, and lifting him until his head hit the metal frame of the bed, got his attention. And he finally came face to face with it.

Its face was scrunched up in pure fury, pale skin with prominent black veins crawling up from the neck to the jaw. Hair drenched in water that left a heavy stench, making his stomach churn. Deep red blood dripping down a side of the head and mouth in a snarl that showed all of its teeth, deep gutural sounds coming from its throat.

“Mind your business, you brat.” Its voice clawing at his ears like sharp, shattered glass, making him shrivel in his skin.

Without thinking twice, Damian grabbed the nearest object at hand and hit the being on the side of the head with it.

It let out a distorted scream, throwing him far away and sliding his body once again across the floor. He quickly got up, eyes wide as stuff around the room began to rattle and fall to the ground, and covering his ears as the screams grew into a higher tone. 

As soon as he saw its hands claw at the ground, its body sliding out from beneath the bed, Damian ran out of the room. Almost taking down the door with him as he took off through the hall, slamming against corners and walls until he reached his room.

Not far away from there, Maximoff stood by the stairs, looking confused as to why she had just seen the gremlin looking so pale and scared while running through the halls. 

“Damn, what is his deal?” She muttered until the wails coming from her bedroom hallway entered her ears. Quickly, she ran to her room, cursing to herself.

Back in Damian’s room, he gripped with shaky fingers an old cassette. It was slightly busted, the tape torn and worn. And now, after hitting whatever that was with it, it looked even more broken.

With a deep sigh, he slid down against his door and passed out.

Meanwhile, Maximoff had to deal with pissed off, hurt ghost who refused to put some ice on her bruised forehead.

Neither of those three had a good night.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Warren rubbed his eyes, sighing deeply. “Never in my life did I think I would be doing some insane shit like this…” he looked to his right side, shaking his head from side to side. “I knew my life was gonna be fucked up from the moment I was born, but this takes the fucking-”

Bobby shushed him, waving his hand dismissively at him without lifting his gaze from the flashlight that was flickering slowly and writing the patterns in his notebook.

“Complain later.” He muttered, biting his lip while scribbling the translation from the Morse code in an unreadable handwriting.

The two boys had been sitting on the benches of the track field for quite a while now. Bobby was even wearing his baseball uniform, having come up to meet with his friends as soon as his practice was finished. The same with Warren, who had finished his debate practice early.

Usually, they wouldn’t be in such a hurry to meet up. But today was a little different compared to the other days.

After all, it wasn’t every day that you got the chance to meet a real ghost.

“She looks beyond pissed today…” Warren muttered, his gaze returning to the running track.

Maximoff was wearing headphones today, some old thing that was already falling apart, and had the leather cuffs flaking off. But she didn’t give it a single thought.

Her eyebrows had a prominent frown that could be seen from the distant spot where the guys were sitting. Hair pulled back in a tight ponytail that wasn’t budging, no matter how hard the tail was wiped around with wind as she ran with a scowl.

She had that expression the whole day.

And that’s without mentioning her snappish attitude. Even Mr. Logan seemed to take his distance from her, just handing her the keys to the field lock and letting her be by herself for today.

Wayne made the flashlight roll off the bench, making Bobby chuckle and put down his pencil.

“Who wouldn’t be? I don’t have siblings, but I would be ticked off if my little brother messed around in my room without permission.”

Warren gave him a quick look, grumbling between his teeth. “Not her brother, remember?”

“True,” Bobby sighed, his hand brushing his hair back and looking around him. “But still, bet you were also pissed?”

The flashlight spun on the ground and pointed directly at Bobby, making him groan when the light hit right in his eyes. Which made Warren laugh, along with an odd sound similar to a sharp whistle, letting them know that Wayne was also laughing at him.

Wayne had also fitted right in with them.

After what happened last night with Damian, Maximoff decided that Wayne needed to get out of the manor for the day. It didn’t take a lot of convincing from her part, since both of them, no matter how annoyed, didn’t want to actually kill the family from a heart attack.

It’s supposed to just make them suffer, nothing else. No need for murder.

No matter how tempting it seemed.

That’s how Wayne was officially introduced to the boys. Well, to Bobby at least.

Warren and her weren’t exactly close back when she was alive. They just found a middle ground where they could benefit from each other. Despite it being a bit embarrassing for both sides, since the two of them made that deal out of searching for approval from their families.

Two fucked up rich kids, with even more fucked up family dynamics, finding a bit of comfort with each other. Sounds about right.

Neither of them talked about what happened behind the walls of their manors. Didn’t need to. The comfortable silence between them on their daily rehearsals was enough, and that was it.

No matter the sinking hole in Warren’s stomach that had been bothering him since that day they went to the mall.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he could have done something to prevent her death. Maybe if he hadn’t canceled the rehearsal that day, she wouldn’t have been killed. Maybe if he hadn’t canceled their meeting just because his father was actually at home for once and reached out to have some dinner with him, she wouldn’t have suffered that fate. 

He could have given her a ride home. Or maybe even walk her back. Anything to stop the tragedy from happening. 

But that would have meant not having Maximoff with them.

And he liked Maximoff. Probably the first friend, along with Bobby, whom he had ever had that didn’t approach him for need of favors or fame. Just genuine friendship.

But what Warren had with her? With Wayne? It was something different.

Something he never dared to put a name on, and never will get the chance to do so.

Warren got startled out of his thoughts when he felt a cold sensation against his fingers, making him look down at his hand. 

A pale, delicate hand brushed its pinky with his fingertips, but it was gone in the blink of an eye. He let himself smile for a moment, a warm light feeling against his shoulder when he drifted his gaze towards the jogging girl who started to approach them.

“Did you guys find anything?” She asked, pulling off the headphones and picking up the flashlight.

“Well, we got plenty of info on the meanings behind the cards,” Bobby said, flipping through the pages of his notebook. “But, it’s pretty confusing if we don’t know about the context behind the reading.”

Maximoff sat on the grass with a sigh. “It’s a start, though, right?”

“.-- . / -. . . -.. / ... --- -- . --- -. . / .-- .... --- / -.- -. --- .-- ... / .... --- .-- / -- --- -- .----. ... / ...- .. ... .. --- -. ... / .-- --- .-. -.- . -..”

We need someone who knows how Mom's visions worked

The speedster bit on the nail of her thumb, thinking to herself about who could probably be helpful.

Alfred was out of the question. He didn’t know Bianca enough to be considered an option.

Bruce? Hard no.

Rio? Yeah, not unless they wanted to get tangled even more in her little game.

“There’s just one person left…” She muttered, looking up at the guys and giving Wayne a lifted eyebrow from her place beside Warren.

“I don’t like that look,” Warren said, seeing right through her apologetic expression.

“.... . / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. / .... . .-.. .--.”

He could help.

“Yeah, I don’t like that either,” Bobby muttered, eyes staring wide at the flashlight.

Maximoff sighed, patting her legs as she got up from the grass and took a deep breath. “Look, you guys can take a step back this time. It could get messy, and I don’t want to get both of you into trouble.”

“Well, too bad for you,” Warren stated, getting up from his seat. “Because there’s no way I’m letting you get into trouble by yourself. We still got a deal, remember?”

“And,” Bobby added, also getting up. “I’m also way too invested in this. Like, really invested.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed, crossing her arms and nodding at them. “Alright, fine. What do we have this Friday?”

“It’s the recital,” Warren said, frowning. “You know? Part of the deal?”

“Well, the deal is changing now.” She chirped, tilting her head with a grin as Wayne gave a shrill laugh and made the light posts around the field flicker. The boy exchanged worried looks.

“I’m starting to regret agreeing to this…”

Warren sighed deeply. “So what now?”

Maximoff hummed, “Do any of you know how we can sneak into Arkham Asylum?”

Bobby and Warren tried not to scream when they finally saw Wayne, who squealed while floating around them in circles.

Maybe they should have sat this one out.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

“Cass, I’m just worried. This is very confusing.”

Cassandra shook her head, hugging her legs to her chest while sitting on the sofa of Barbara’s living room.

She had come to the redhead’s apartment late in the night, looking over her shoulder every single time the tiniest noise was heard behind her. Frown deep between her eyebrows, and lips cracked by continuously biting on them with worry, on the whole way to Barbara’s home.

“Think about it.” The younger woman said. “You have noticed, too.”

“Of course I have noticed,” she acknowledged, moving her chair closer to the Cass. “But it’s probably just her being angry and hurt. She needs space.”

That got a sharp glare from Cassandra, taking Barbara off guard by how intensely the anger in her eyes was directed towards her. As if what she said was the greatest insult she had ever dared to say out loud.

It made her straighten up and clear her throat.

“What I mean is,” she started in a gentler tone. “She is a teen, and she is going through some harsh stuff. She needs time and understanding, not accusations of having an alter.”

Yeah, that was it.

After days of observing and analyzing the behavior of her sister, Cassandra came to this conclusion. Which was solidified when it was revealed that not only was the young girl related to a villain, but to Two-Face of all people.

 It made complete sense to her. 

The way of talking. Her manners. Her posture. The hostile attitude. The new clothes. The new everything.

Her dear sister had an alter, and it was all their fault.

She had done her research on the condition, the dissociative identity disorder, even going so far as to take Harvey’s file and compare any similarities between the two of them. It didn’t take long to figure out several common grounds amongst them.

Traumatic childhood? Check

Harsh upbringing? Check

Unstable relationship with family members? …sadly, also a check.

And the nail in the coffin. A traumatic event that could have started a new way of behavior or personality.

It was undeniable to her. There was no other explanation.

And it hurt. It hurt to know that she had a hand in this. That everyone had a hand in this. They all contributed. They all caused her harm. They all caused her pain. They all caused her suffering, and she didn’t know how to fix it. If there even was a way of fixing it. A way to atone for her mistakes and errors.

Was there a way to earn her forgiveness? 

… Of course, there was. Her sister was a saint. Her main alter, at least. She was good, forgiving, and understanding. She would see right through her and understand that she regrets pushing her to the side for just a moment of silence. That Cass would never ask her to be quiet once again. That she needs her to be loud and please talk to her once MORE-

…Back on track.

This new side was just a protective alter. A way made by her mind to protect her fragile side and punish those who have wronged her.

All that Cassandra needed to do was show that she had changed, and everything would be fine. Everything would be way better than before, even!

But first, she needs the others to believe her. That there’s proof.

Which is why she went to Barbara, who is the only person she thought would be able to understand what she meant.

Sadly, Barbara was not getting it.

“Look,” Barbara sighed, touching Cass’s knee. “It’s been a rough week. For everyone. How about you stay the night here, and tomorrow we can talk about it more calmly. I can see that you haven’t been sleeping well.”

Of course, she was not sleeping well! Her sister was suffering in silence, and she didn’t know what to do about it!

Cassandra stood up from the sofa, harshly shoving Barbara’s hand away and picking up her stuff, slamming the door of the apartment behind her as she stormed off into the street. Leaving a very confused and concerned Barbara behind.

If Barb was not going to understand, then fine.

She was going to find someone who could.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

“Did you brush your teeth?” Logan questioned with a raised eyebrow, staring down at the small screen of his phone. Where a little girl pouted back at him with a glare uncannily similar to his own.

“Hnn,” She muttered, nodding at him. He could also hear Hank’s deep chuckle somewhere in the background of the call.

Then, a black woman with striking white hair appeared behind the girl with a warm smile. Her hands gently, going over the girl’s shoulders and letting her snuggle up to her chest, all while still pouting at Logan.

“Laura is a big girl now, Logan,” Ororo said, making the girl hide her face away from the now smirking man. “She even helped out with the dishes today!”

“Did she now?” He said with a teasing tone. “Hopefully I’ll be able to see that when I get back.”

Laura then growled at the screen, nose scrunched up and glaring at her father. But to Logan, she just looked like an angry wet cat.

Just like a certain student today.

“Say goodnight, Laura. It’s quite late for your bedtime.” Ororo said, which Laura responded with a mumbled ‘night’ before she passed the phone to Hank, who also said his goodnights and waited until the two of them left to finally talk to Logan.

“How did the shoes work out? Any feedback?”

Logan groaned leaning back against the headboard of his bed. The professor had gone as far as to get him an apartment for his cover instead of sticking to a hotel and he was beyond grateful for it. Though, he currently preferred to wake up with Laura’s foot shoved against his face after she crawled up into his bed in the middle of the night.

He missed his kid. A lot.

“No complaints. The kid doesn’t look like she is afraid of melting soles anymore, so I guess that’s good enough.” He mentioned.

“I’ll take it, then.” Hank grinned, shuffling some stuff off camera. “How about the case? Any clues?”

“Not yet,” He muttered. “But I have the feeling that I’ll find something very soon. Especially with those three going rampant around the city.”

“Ah, yes,” Hank nodded. “The professor mentioned them yesterday during our meeting. I’m quite worried that such powerful mutants are going out all alone in Gotham of all places. The universe does have a strange sense of humor.”

More like a fucked up sense of humor.

“I’m guessing we will have to open four new rooms in the institute.”

Logan frowned at those words. He was watching three kids. Not four.

“Four?”

Hank looked at the camera and then let out a tiny gasp, quickly smiling while nodding. “Oh, I guess the professor hasn’t mentioned it yet. He detected a new mutant in New Jersey. A boy from Eastview.”

A boy from Eastview, huh?

“Did he sent Scott to pick him up?” Logan scoffed. He knew Scott wasn’t the best at handling breaking the news to families about their kid being a mutant.

“No, he didn’t”

“Huh, that’s good.”

“He did send Gambit and Rouge, though.”

“He sent who?!”

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Author's note: Hello everyone, I have big news! I'll be taking a short writing break until the first week of July. My family will be traveling and I'll be facing finals from my summer class (And also working on a short film AS THE MAIN CHARACTER OMGGGGGG-). But, the asks will remain open and I'll answer as soon as possible, so don't hesitate to send asks or comments! Other than that, I hope you all enjoyed the new chapter and I can't wait to see what everyone thinks about it (YAYY, PIETRO IS HEREEEE-) Lots of love, GG✨

Tag List:

@bat1212 @kneelforloki @1abi @galaxypurplerose @yhin-gg @cxcilla @momentomoribitch @stargirl404 @welpthisisboring @icefox8155 @bunniotomia @alittlelostmoonchild @devotedlyshamelessdetective @shycreatorreview @nirvanaxx1942 @soulsire @ryuushou @rinkydinkythinky @lithiumval @ithoughtthinks @reeyy0-2 @cssammyyarts @lordbugs @ilovecoffe0 @kore-of-the-underworld @fortunatelydifferentqueen @vanessa-boo @livingund3ad @aelxr @im-so-goddamn-tired @lovebug-apple @staarflowerr @xoxoyukixoxo @whyiseveryuseenametaken @holderoflostmemories @doggyteam2028 @leeiasure @shadowypeachsweets @jjoppees @astraeasworld @wrenbirde @scarletdfox @letsbedragonstogether @exactlynumberonekryptonite @randomlyappearingartist @angwlart @ceramic-raven @vndexd @suneaterscape @initial-ari

Bonus Memes:

[bakugotrashpanda]

Summer Lovin’

⫸ Your boyfriend broke up with you before your big romantic holiday. Now you’re taking it with your girl friends – nothing fixes a broken heart like a girls trip to the beach, right? Only downside is your neighbors...

Bakugou, Kirishima, Todoroki, Hawks, Dabi x Reader

Updated whenever I feel like it.

!!: Sex. So much sex. Plot? What plot?

⫸ Chapter 1: Road Trip

⫸ Chapter 2: Beach

⫸ Chapter 3: Swimsuit

⫸ Chapter 4: Campfire

⫸ Chapter 5: Sunscreen

⫸ Chapter 6: Sundress

⫸ Chapter 7: Piña Colada

⫸ Chapter 8: TBD

Big thank you to @katsukikitten, this is for her summer event. This is the most inspired I've felt in a hot minute, thanks bb 💖

[mothfishing]

if you voted, share or reblog this post.

samah is a gazan woman my friend @murderbot has been in contact with for several months. she has a critically ill infant, ammar, and he needs treatment extremely badly. i can't attach photos directly to this post or it risks it being suppressed - so click here and tell me what you think of this. is this how any child should look? do you see how thin he is? how badly his health has deteriorated as a direct result of israeli aggression?

$8 / $1025

ammar needs medicine to survive, every single week, or he will die. i don't know what else to tell you. other than perhaps:

NO ONE HAS BEEN DONATING.

if you think "someone else will take care of it", "someone else will donate, so i don't have to", understand no one else is coming to save him. this is not a campaign that receives regular donations. in SEVERAL DAYS ammar received FIVE DOLLARS. that is not enough! samah is squeezed on all sides at every turn by an occupation that doesn't want her baby to survive. a $500 treatment is expanded to $1000 by the various fees she's forced to endure. this isn't right. this isn't just. and all of that is JUST HIS MEDICATION. nothing left over even for the medical tent that is his only protection from the elements. and in his condition too.

you need to listen to me, ammar would have died if my friends and i hadn't personally intervened and paid fees samah couldn't crowdfund over the past several months. but we are not rich people. we simply are not able to pay these increasing fees. we are all tapped out. AMMAR NEEDS YOUR HELP. i cannot emphasize enough. A CHILD WILL DIE IF YOU SIT AND DO NOTHING.

check this post for a more detailed explanation of this fee.

@beetledrink @autisticmudkip @aalghul @greed-the-dorkalicious @callapilla

@onionpainter @spelldealer @tautittology @butchpirates @manchesterau

@lesbianchemicalplant @butchkaramazov @onlyreblogs-fuckifieverpost @imnotgirlboss @lesbianboyfriend

@alexmey-does-an-arts @detectivehole @transgenderization @saga-ordsmed @sploonswagtournament

@iridescentscarecrow @crazysodomite @letsboldlygomotherfuckers @castielsprostate @sillysymbol

@tomiyeee @odddogs @vamptits @hesperocyon-lesbian @grendelsmilf

@eternalpeacenosuffering @tetrafelino @think-queer @timothylawrence @darcyolsson

@disneydailly @nosferatu-library-for-palestine

[atlasthecactus]

that fucking bird that I hate

[krispdreemurr]

CHAPTER 5: kris sleeps for 8 hours. they are woken up briefly to eat a full meal + dessert by Toriel. they sleep another 4 hours. roll credits

[yourreddancer]

The Trump administration’s bombastic attacks on the nation’s most prestigious universities have commanded the public’s attention all year long. Now congressional Republicans are poised to dramatically expand that onslaught. If you think the last few months have been bad for Harvard, brace yourself—the “big, beautiful bill” is coming, and with it, a new dimension of destruction. While it’s mostly gone unremarked upon in the mainstream media, institutions of higher learning across the country are about to be pummeled by the looming reconciliation bill, which may portend an extinction event for higher education as we know it. The bill weaponizes working-class families’ reliance on debt to finance their college dreams with such intensity that not only will it push millions to the financial brink, it will push them out of higher education altogether. The overhaul of the student lending system championed by Republican legislators has nothing to do with fiscal responsibility or balancing the budget. Instead, it provides an ominous articulation of the Republican Party’s authoritarian ambitions, one that is chillingly consistent with the bill’s massive increases for immigration and border security. This is not a budget bill, it is a debt and deportation bill—and one built on the fascist foundation laid by the Heritage Foundation’s now-notorious Project 2025. As the author of Project 2025’s chapter on education policy, Burke recommended gutting student loan relief (along with diversity, equity, and inclusion programs and scientific research funding) to bring universities to heel and reorient American society toward the far right.

As Ryann Liebanthall details in Unburdened, an in-depth history of the student debt crisis, the number of Black college freshmen fell by nearly 8 percent between 1980 and 1983. More than any other figure, Reagan deserves credit for undermining what once passed as common sense in the U.S.—the principle that public college should be high quality, widely accessible, and tuition-free. Like today’s Republicans, Reagan invoked the figure of the student protester, the specter of racial equality, and the tool of student debt to implement a retrograde agenda.

Where higher education is concerned, it is not enough to defend a status quo that the American public knows is broken. Today, an astonishing $1.6 trillion in federal student loans crushes nearly 43 million people. This insurmountable burden has made ordinary people increasingly skeptical of the value of education and more susceptible to anti-intellectual appeals.

To counter the Republicans’ vision for higher education, Democrats must go far beyond a milquetoast goal of a less predatory student debt system. They must articulate a galvanizing vision for free college. The measure is popular: Surveys show that many people, including pluralities of Republicans and independents, are supportive of free college, despite decades of Republican propaganda demonizing academia. In recent months, faculty, staff, students, and student debtors have come together to lay this groundwork.

The Republican Plot to Un-Educate America

Trump’s “big, beautiful bill” is an extinction-level event for higher education that would annihilate the country’s intellectual potential.

The Trump administration’s bombastic attacks on the nation’s most prestigious universities have commanded the public’s attention all year long. Now congressional Republicans are poised to dramatically expand that onslaught. If you think the last few months have been bad for Harvard, brace yourself—the “big, beautiful bill” is coming, and with it, a new dimension of destruction.

[sharieb]

Held in the Hollowed Fragments 8: The Star Beyond the Veil

Synopsis: Shrouded in fog and dreams, a soul long forgotten stirs once more. In a realm outside time, the woman they all once loved is offered a final peace, far from the cruel cycles that broke her. But as she drifts toward rest, a ripple echoes through the void—five broken hearts awaken to a truth they had buried. Each remembers, each mourns, each begins to chase the impossible. A choice is made, a card exchanged, and a cosmic balance unsettled. Yet in the clash between grief and divinity, love begins to stir defiance. As fate fractures and memory ignites, one thing becomes certain: she may have chosen to leave, but they are not ready to let her go. Not yet. Not again.

Pairing: LADS x non-mc! (you)

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Word count: +2.4k

Content warning: angst, mention of death, obsession, implied potential psychological torment, cosmic/divine interference

Music for the chapter: Saturn by Sleep at Last.

Taglist: @plzdonutpercieveme, @miuangel, @xiisblogs, @loreleis-world, @animegamerfox, @cherlouu, @chaoticfivesworld, @reni502, @nm4565natty, @satansdaughter123, @asakiyu

Writer's notes: Hello, my lovelies. We finally reached the end of this series. I know that I already thanked you all in the previous chapter, but I want to emphasise how honoured and humbled I am by all of you taking the time out to read everything that I have written so far, along with taking part in my journey from the first chapter and even when this series was just a random thought that I posted, all the way up to now. Your love and support mean so much to me. I don't think I would ever have made it this far without all of you here. So thank you all so much. I hope you all enjoy the final chapter of this series, and I hope you all follow along in future journeys with me.

First Previous

Fog coiled thick around his feet, swallowing sound and space as time slowed to a crawl. The dream had not ended; it simply shifted, deepened. A moment suspended in eternity. One figure stood in silence, a shadow of a man whose name did not yet return to him. His identity blurred, his heart pounding with a grief he couldn’t quite name, silent witness to something vast and irreversible.

Before him, in a clearing that felt more like the centre of the universe than a dream, you lay motionless.

The woman he'd almost forgotten. The one he had loved and lost.

Your body was still. Cold. Empty.

But then,

Something shifted.

He didn’t notice it at first, not fully. But the dream lost its hazy edges, the fog no longer lingering as illusion, no longer just a dreamscape. It felt different. Sharper. Real.

And in that moment, a breath of light stirred in the chest. A wisp of warmth. And slowly, gently, something shimmered loose.

Your soul.

It peeled itself away from your corpse like silk pulled from water. A glowing, golden spirit, fragile and quiet, drifted upward. As it rose, your remains, once cold in their arms, faded like dust in morning light, slipping through his fingers until there was nothing left to hold. He watched, rooted in place, grief-stricken and breathless as the soul, your soul, floated above what was no longer a body, but memory. A final heartbeat suspended in the air.

It did not vanish.

It drifted in front of him.

But before it moved away, the soul hovered back down briefly, soft and glowing, and pressed itself gently against his lips, a kiss not of romance, but of parting. Of memory. Of devotion.

In that moment, though no words were spoken aloud, a voice echoed within him, telepathic and aching:

"Goodbye, my love... my all in all...

My snowman

My dragon

My starlight

My fishie

My candy apple

My Emcumbrace Pragma."

Then, with one last flicker of warmth, it lifted and began its slow, radiant ascent.

He felt it too late.

Panic surged through him as he lunged forward, hand outstretched, voice tearing from his throat with a raw desperation he hadn’t known he still possessed:

“NO! COME BACK! I'M SORRY! DON'T LEAVE ME ALL ALONE, PLEASE!!!”

But she was already drifting away, slowly, silently, toward the distance. Toward two figures cloaked in cosmic shadow.

Astra. And beside them, someone else, taller, brighter. Still and infinite. A presence older than time.

He didn’t know who or what that entity was, but the name echoed in his bones before he even understood why. As if etched into his soul from the beginning of time, a truth long buried now rising:

The Supreme Cosmic Overseer.

The Overseer stepped out from the cosmic shadow, light bending around them like time obeying a higher law. As your soul hovered before them, trembling, soft as a candle’s flame, they looked upon you not as a tool or anomaly, but as a sacred, wounded child. The Overseer knelt slightly, their infinite form folding in humility, and their gaze softened with deep, ancient sorrow, as though they had seen countless lost souls, but none that weighed on them quite like this one.

Extending one hand with the utmost care, the Supreme Cosmic Overseer whispered, voice neither man nor woman, neither sound of blissful youth or ageing wisdom, but yet laced with a warmth so infinite it could cradle galaxies:

Come, little one... you’ve suffered more than most ever will. You don’t have to carry the weight anymore. You’ve been brave long enough.

Their palm glowed with a gentle pull, a safe invitation.

“Come now… it’s time to rest.”

After the Overseer spoke, her soul floated gently over to their outstretched hand. It did not fall into their palm, but hovered just above it, cradled by the gravity of grace alone. Light shimmered around your soul, fragile and luminous as it lingered in the god’s quiet hold, embraced by something ancient, protective, and kind.

“You don’t know me,”; the Overseer said with a voice neither loud nor quiet, but incredibly eternal. “But I know you. I’ve watched you through countless lives, countless timelines. I’ve seen you give yourself away piece by piece—for love, for loyalty, for those who never saw you fully. I’ve seen you die with dignity in silence, over and over again.”

Your spirit trembled, a low pulse of grief and disbelief radiating from its core.

“I took pity on you,” the Overseer continued. “And in time, even Astra agreed—begrudgingly. We struck a pact. Your soul is no longer bound to the rules of his game. I have come to take you far from here. A realm untouched by his strings. A world where your heart may sleep, and never be broken again.”

At first, you nodded. Tired. Numb. Willing.

But then, you began to think back.

Back to him.

Back to your Pragma.

He who had broken and died and now wept for you. Who is now kneeling in the far distance, watching helplessly.

“May I make a request... please?” Your voice was faint, light-wrapped and fragile, but clear.

The Overseer turned to her fully, a gentleness blooming in the depths of their ancient gaze.

“You may,” they said. “Any last wish you have—I will grant it gladly.”

Astra materialised, face twisted with rage and curiosity. “She dares-”

The Overseer raised a hand and silenced Astra without a word.

“Speak,” the god said to you.

“I want to take the tragic card with me,” you said. “Their suffering. Their fate. I want to free them. Even if they stay, they deserve better.”

“NO!" Astra barked, stepping forward. “Absolutely not! That card is mine. My Magnum Opus. It exists to repeat and renew pain. They are my pieces to play.”

The Overseer was silent.

Then you spoke again, firmer:

“If so, then I want to propose a choice.”

Astra arched a brow.

You floated out of the Overseer's palm and hovered in front of Astra with no fear, radiant and unflinching, like a star that had never belonged to their darkness. “Either I take the card, the one you hold so dearly, or I take him. All of them, even MC as well. Every soul you’ve bent and broken. I’ll leave this world with them all.”

Astra stilled. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would,” you said, voice resolute. “You’ve left me with nothing but grief. And if you refuse this mercy, then I’ll take them with me, away from you, away from your stupid game.”

“You would break the rules.”

“You already did,” you snapped as she floated closer to Astra's face, unfazed, remaining headstrong. “So now I’m giving you the choice, Astra. The card, or your favourite playthings.”

The threat wasn’t cruel. It was maternal. Final. And it was effective.

Astra’s face twitched. Annoyance rippled beneath their skin. To lose the card was one thing. To lose their favourite pieces—

Unthinkable.

“Fine,” Astra hissed. “Take the damn card. Just leave my game intact.”

A beat passed. The Overseer’s gaze held Astra’s for a long moment, making sure they understood the cost.

Then, the divine one turned back to her.

“So it shall be.”

The Overseer raised a hand, and light folded around her body. A protective robe spun from something cosmic and pure encased her soul. Her body faded into mist, her spirit asleep within a shell of starlight.

He turned to leave with her.

Then-

“No!” a voice ripped through the stillness.

“Don’t take her!” another cried, each shout overlapping with another.

The two deities paused at the edge of departure, their attention caught by a sudden chorus within the fog. At first, it was just a noise, echoes of shouting, fractured and overlapping.

Then they turned.

Through the mist, a figure approached.

No- five.

Racing forward, still far in the distance. The cries came sharper now, each shout clearer and filled with anguish:

“Don’t take her!”

“Let her go!”

“She isn't yours!”

“She’s mine!”

“Give her back!”

The Overseer’s head tilted ever so slightly, not in surprise, but in quiet sorrow. They understood too well what this was; the sound of love realised far too late. They watched the five boys emerge from the fog, frantic and wide-eyed, and the Overseer pitied them with an almost parental ache.

Astra, on the other hand, scoffed. Eyes narrowing, lips curling into a scold, they watched the scene unfold not with empathy, but irritation edged with intrigue.

"How predictable," Astra murmured.

The Overseer now fully facing the boys' direction, watching them from a distance, not with judgment, but with a sorrowful kind of knowing. Their desperation reached even the stars.

As for Astra, Astra’s eyes still narrowed with no sliver of sympathy, watched the chaos unfold until something sparked behind their eyes, causing their lips to slowly curl from a scold of disdain into a cruel, delighted smirk. Not sorrowful. Not regretful. But of amusement and inspiration.

How delicious,, they thought, with a stretch of their hand.

And with a snap of their fingers, Astra spoke, “You’ve seen too much.”

Soon, the world fractured.

And the boys fell-tumbling through fog, through memory, through a collapsing dream.

Just before the world cast them out, their eyes caught the Overseer’s, just for a flicker of a moment.

He stood still.

Said nothing.

But the way he watched them, these five boys who had broken through the fog just to reach her soul, sparked something behind his gaze. Not cruelty. Not even pity.

Curiosity. A trace of mischief.

How deeply they loved her. How stubbornly they came, even now, even too late.

Perhaps… it was time someone played a trick on Astra for once.

The thought lit in the Overseer’s eyes like a quiet ember. He wouldn’t say anything. Not yet. But the way he turned back toward Astra, amused and unreadable, carried a promise:

He might just bend the rules.

Not for chaos.

But as a silent yet impactful way to avenge her.

And it would drive Astra mad,

Which, in the Overseer’s opinion, made it all the more worth it just for the mirth of it all.

They woke up.

He jolted awake, heart hammering against his ribs, lungs seizing as if he'd just surfaced from deep underwater. Cold sweat clung to his skin, soaking the sheets, anchoring him in a reality that felt no less suffocating than the dream.

That dream. Again.

Dragging a trembling hand over his face, he sat upright, disoriented. The remnants of sleep still wrapped around his mind like thick fog, muting everything but the echo of her absence.

Outside, a thunderstorm howled against the windowpane — rain falling in relentless sheets, as if the sky, too, was grieving something it had long since lost. The wind groaned through the cracks in the walls. There was no sunrise or sunset, no hint of morning or dusk. Just grey.

He glanced at his phone. Thirty unread messages. Twelve missed calls. Some work. Some personal. All irrelevant. Their words could never reach him in the place he was sinking.

Time left before responsibilities demanded his attention: two hours.

But the very thought of rising, of putting on a face, of pretending, filled his gut with lead. Instead, he lay back down, the cold side of the bed stretching into an abyss beside him. Once a space for warmth and company, it was now a graveyard of silence.

He stared at the ceiling, hollow-eyed.

He hated days like this, hated the way they strangled him slowly, how they always began with that dream and ended with him frayed, volatile, barely functional. Days like these always ended in regret. In failure.

He had learned to fear them.

Stillness consumed him. His eyes unfocused. What had he dreamt again? He tried to remember, clawing at the edges of his fading memory, but the specifics slipped through his grasp like sand through desperate fingers.

Except for one detail — the only constant.

A w̸̭̘̜̮͕̥͉͇̗͍̑̌̂̂̾̂ȯ̷̤͍͐̅͝m̶͖̟͇̓a̸̖̟͍̗͚͌̑̇́̅̍̂̕̚ͅ-̴̨̝̰͎̘̣͖̟͖̓̄͑́̄̒̄ͅ.̷̛̪̱͔̬̈́͋̏̊̿̅̒ͅ.̷̛̱̝͎̬̭̜̠̣̊́̄̊͘.̶̧̫̤̮̹͎͎̥̊̀.̵̨͎̠͛̃̇͗͋̍̇̐͠ ̸̧̡͇̭̠̩͎̃̅̀̈̆́̓̆Ȳ̵̢̡̩̖̦̩͈̻͛̏͆ō̸̧̺̺̈̀̍̇̇U̴̢̔̎̄́͘͝͝

Ÿ̸̦̳̪̲̥́̀̊̈̾̌́̒ö̵̠̫̙͉̈̈͜͠u̸̝̤̻̤̰͆͆̈́̈́̅́̂̚͠

Each boy's eyes widened, breath caught, as if their subconscious was clawing its way to the surface.

A scrambled moment. A breathless pause.

Blankness.

Then, clarity.

“…You.”

The name had no sound at first, but it lived in the beat of their pulse. The fog did not reclaim her this time.

They knew.

The mysterious woman in the dream wasn’t just a shadow; it was you. The person they once clung to, then let slip through the cracks of time.

And they had almost forgotten.

Horrified by the realisation, each of them lurched from their beds.

He grabbed a notebook and scribbled your name again and again, the pages tearing beneath the force of his strokes.

With his hands shaking, he reached for his medical journal and began sketching your eyes, your voice in symbols he didn’t understand, desperate to keep you real.

He tore through drawers until he found a very old blank photograph. He flipped it over and wrote one word: You.

He painted in a frenzy, colours exploding across the canvas. A figure in the fog, soft and luminous.

He stared at his reflection, then wrote your name on the mirror with a red permanent marker, over and over until the glass fogged with breath.

They each did whatever they could, anything, to etch you back into their lives. To keep you from fading.

Because this wasn’t just a punishment.

You were taken because you were tired.

Because you chose peace.

And now the obsession, buried deep, suppressed by time and the god of this world, resurfaced like fire to dry kindling. But this time, it wasn’t delusion. It was devotion.

They would find you.

Wherever the Supreme Cosmic Overseer had taken you, they would chase it.

A world beyond Astra’s game. A realm untouched by fate.

He muttered to himself, hunched over his desk, voice hoarse:

“She saved me… and I let her go.”

He stood before his studio wall, canvas smeared with a storm of colour, his breathing ragged as he stepped back.

“You never stopped being my muse... and I’m done painting grief.”

He stood upright, alone in his sterile apartment, and whispered with clinical finality:

“Not again. Not this time.”

He opened a hidden drawer filled with celestial maps, dream patterns, and ancient coordinates.

“I’ll find you. No matter how far.”

He stared out through the window of his base, the city lights blurring beneath the rain as he exhaled:

“I'm coming for you, my love.”

Somewhere beyond the fog, beyond the world that they lived in, your soul stirred.

And the world, finally, began to remember you.

[ladsrlife]

What are you doing step brother???!!!

Caleb x Reader

Where you start living with your step-brother for uni and the relationship starts to take an interesting turn...

tags: 18+ nsfw/smut, slow burn, angst, taboo, obsessive/yandere caleb 😋

Chapter 1💗 Chapter 2💗 Chapter 3💗 Chapter 4💗 Chapter 5💗Chapter6💗 Chapter 7💗 Chapter 8💗Chapter 9💗

Also started posting on ao3 :)

By the way I edited the smutty part in chapter 9 (I felt like it didn't match the pacing of the current story.) Feel free to take a read if you're curious!

────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ──────

Chapter 10

The second morning waking up in Caleb’s arms feels a lot less awkward than the first.

It also feels like the fire that had been consuming you both has softened - burning quieter now, no longer flaring at every glance or brush of skin. Finally, a sliver of normalcy returns, where not every interaction is charged with heat.

And with the morning slipping back into something closer to routine, you begin to notice the quieter things.

Something softer, blooming.

You see it in the way Caleb glances at you between bites of his scrambled eggs, gaze impossibly gentle. The way he playfully insists on a kiss before letting you walk out the door. How he ruffles your hair and pinches your cheek in the elevator, utterly unbothered by the strangers around you. How he weaves his fingers through yours at every red light, bringing the back of your hand to his lips for a soft, contented kiss.

It’s as if a veil you didn’t realize was there has lifted, revealing a version of Caleb that’s more open, more expressive - radiant with joy in a way that feels utterly unfiltered. There’s something achingly sweet and thick about him now.

It’s endearing. And it does something to you, watching him so transparently happy.

It makes you wish you’d given this to him sooner.

You find yourself sinking into this version of him like a teabag into warm water - slowly, thoroughly, until there’s no separating where you end and he begins.

“What time do you think you’ll finish today?”

Caleb asks as he parks the car in the campus lot.

“By ten, probably. That’s what we agreed on.”

“Great. I’ll come get you.” He says while the car slows to a halt, and he adjusts the gear to parking.

“Sounds good.”

It’s what you promised him last night: if you’re out late, he picks you up. If you’re too busy to reply for hours, you promise to send at least one text. Or he’ll show up himself. "If that’s not too much to ask on pipsqueak’s part," as he’d said, dramatically, last night.

Caleb looks to you warmly and smiles. He reaches out to cup your face, to which you lean in and meet his tender violet gaze, recognizing the joy shimmering beneath it as you do. His hand strokes down from your hair to the small of your back, guiding you into a warm, full-bodied hug.

“Caleb.”

You murmur in quiet warning, glancing at him as you fight the urge to lean in. Instead, you pull back slightly, checking the windshield to see if anyone might be watching.

He chuckles at your nervousness. "Think people might get the wrong idea?”

“Well, everyone thinks we’re siblings… I doubt they even know we’re step siblings. Though that doesn’t exactly grant amnesty either.”

“…Right.” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear before pulling his hand back.

You reach out and catch his fingers before they retreat fully, giving them a small squeeze beneath the window.

“Come on, we’ll be late.” You reach for the door handle, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

”I wish we took the same courses.” He sighs while playing with your fingers. “12 hours seem like a little too much time not seeing each other. Don’t you think?”

The genuineness of his voice, alongside the tender squeezes of your hand tickle your heart.

“…I do have a few minutes between 6th period and the group project meeting.”

You admit, gaze lowering shyly at your suggestion implied in between the lines.

As you observe his face lighting up instantly, his eyes crinkling in delight, you can’t help a laugh. He looks like a puppy getting his favorite treat.

────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ──────

As if Caleb’s enthusiasm has rubbed off on you, classes stretch on endlessly today. You find your mind drifting more than once - imagining the flush in his smile, the easy brightness in his voice, the way his eyes soften when they land on you. And then, uninvited but no less vivid, you think of the other version of him - the one with dark, focused eyes that seem to burn straight through you.

You oscillate between warm and flushed all day like someone swinging between seasons.

Your friends notice your quiet sighs at lunch and ask if anything’s wrong.

After sixth period, you meet up with Caleb at the Auburn library. Perhaps it’s the fact that you have less than 15 minutes to spend with him.

You tell him you missed him, at which you half expect him to beam. Instead, his smile falters and darkens instead, into something heavier and heated.

He takes your hand without another word and leads you between the bookcases, until you’re tucked away in a back corner labeled “Russian Novels Translated to French.” Why it exists, you don’t know. But it’s secluded enough to make even you feel hidden from potential witnesses. He pulls you into his arms.

You quietly sigh as you feel his warmth engulf you like a blanket.

“We can quickly pull apart and pretend to be looking for a book if anyone walks by.”

Caleb whispers into the top of your head as his arms firmly wrap around you. As you pull him closer, arms around his waist, you feel his hardened length on your stomach.

“Do you even know how to read French?” You ask him, looking up.

His eyes are upturned into an amused smile as he replies, “No.” and leans in for a chaste, quiet kiss.

It’s just a brief second of contact, but the feeling of his soft and wet lips gently sucking yours is enough to chill the back of your neck with pleasure.

You know he feels the same, the way his breath slightly hitches and how he cups your face with both hands and leans in like he really means it.

The both of you kiss tenderly and slowly, careful to not make much sound - shuddered, suppressed breaths mixing and fanning across each other’s lips. Sucking gently again and again until it leaves both of you love drunk and dazed.

You’re both gently trembling when you pull back and bury your head in his chest, to which he responds by wrapping his arms around your shoulders and nuzzling your temple with his chin. "I might actually combust" He whispers, voice ragged. He tightens his arms as if proving a point. “And die.” He places his lips on your temple. “And I’d die happy.”

“Calm down, Shakespeare.” You quietly laugh at his overreaction and pull back slightly to look up.

His soft violet eyes shimmer with a mix of emotions - joy, love, awe, and a touch of… something you can’t quite place.

“Really.” He says, face dead pan serious. It makes you laugh more. “You don’t believe me?”

Rolling your eyes, you pull out your phone from your back pocket to check the time. You and Caleb both look down at the screen lighting up between your bodies. The digital clock says there’s less than five minutes left until the meeting.

“I should get going…” You say.

However, Caleb’s eyes are still glued to the screen. Reading something lower. You follow his gaze to find your piled message notifications.

“There’s a lot of guys… in your messages.” He says, flatly.

“I don’t reply to most of them.” You reply, carefully.

It’s true. The guy from orientation, a TA, a couple of classmates, someone from swim club… you barely know them, but they keep messaging you anyway - even when you don’t respond.

“There’s also Ethan and Lucas from high school. You talk to them often?”

You slightly attempt to pull back, but Caleb’s firm hands around your waist hold you tight against his muscular body.

“No, I don’t. Plus Lucas probably sent it to the group chat.”

Caleb’s gaze is a notch colder. You push against his chest gently, and this time, he lets go.

“Come on, we should get going.”

He exhales quietly behind you as you start walking. You hear his footsteps follow you through the library halls.

Once you reach the lobby, you think he’s going to leave. Instead, with an expression quieter than usual, he insists on walking you to the group meeting room.

You’re surprised along with your friends when Caleb walks into the meeting room with you. You watch their lovestruck expressions as Caleb smiles brightly and introduces himself as your brother. “Mia and Jasmine, right?” He pulls out a container packed with fruits as a study snack, and places it on the table before patting your head and leaving.

“…is your brother taken?” Mia asks, popping a grape into her mouth, still glancing at the door through which Caleb left a couple seconds ago. She shares a glance with Jasmine.

“…Yeah.” You mumble, torn between gratitude and a vague, inexplicable annoyance. “He is.”

────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ──────

The soft autumn breeze blows in your hair as you step outside the library. In the darkened campus you notice Caleb’s black Land Rover, punctual as always, headlights casting gentle shadows across the pavement.

You wave goodbye to your friends and make your way to the car. A mellow ballad hums softly through the speakers as you slide into the passenger seat.

“How was it?” he asks, greeting you with a light pat on the head before shifting the car into gear.

“So tiring,” you sigh, slinking back into the seat as the night lights blur past the window like falling stars streaking across the sky.

He lets out a chuckle. “Is there a lot to do?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how you made it through to junior year.”

“Maybe you freshmen are just trying too hard,” he teases. “You’ll settle into it. I can help, too.”

“You do seem to have a lot of free time. Weirdly.”

He laughs again. “I work hard. Just when you’re not looking. I was studying in a nearby library until now, too.”

“Really? Alone?”

“With Jessica and Ethan.” he says, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror as he makes a U-turn.

“Right.” Your heart pangs with at the mention of Jessica. You rapidly erase the image of the two sitting together at a table. You’d also been… pushing back what to do with the promise you had made to her. “Sounds fun.” You murmur anything really.

“If you think advanced calculus and a few hundred practice problems is fun, then yeah.”

“Do you really need to know all that to become a pilot?”

“Of course. Don’t you know pilots need to find the derivative when an engine malfunctions?”

You let out a half-laugh, half-sigh at his attempt at a joke.

“Hey-” you protest, and he reaches out and pinches your cheek, wiggles it with exaggerated glee before his hand softens - cupping your face, then trailing slowly down your chin, neck, shoulder, and finally your arm before retreating.

The air in the car warms a few degrees.

“You were good at replying today.” He says, eyes still on the road, his voice lower, almost velvety.

With your head turned away from him, looking out the window, you reach for his hand and lace your fingers through his, playing nonchalant and pretending your hand has a mind of its own.

“…I deserve a well done sticker, don’t I?”

────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ──────

You barely make it through the door before Caleb is on you - his lips catching yours in a hungry, breathless kiss. He presses you backward through the apartment, his arm braced behind you to keep you from stumbling as your feet clumsily skid across the hardwood floor.

You’ve barely done anything and yet his breaths are ragged like he’s run miles. You’d expected his arousal since you had noticed the tent in his pants in the elevator ride up to the apartment. And how he’d subtly hid it while a neighbor on your floor waved high to the both of you and made small talk. But you didn’t expect him to devour you immediately, like this.

You open your eyes in a desperate attempt to ground yourself, and see his eyes squeezed shut, brows knit in sheer concentration. He’s so intensely focused, it’s unfairly sexy.

You gasp as he grinds into you, slow and desperate, and your knees give out beneath you. The two of you collapse onto the floor in a tangle of limbs, landing hard enough to knock the air from your lungs, with only Caleb’s hand beneath your head and back to prevent you from hurting.

As his hands reach for the zipper of your pants, you catch them with your own, breathless.

“Wait - I haven’t showered yet…” you whisper, flustered.

But Caleb doesn’t flinch. His hands, still resting atop yours, tighten just slightly as his gaze drags up to meet yours - glassier than you expect.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, voice thick. “I prefer it. Even.”

You flush at his honesty. And then he leans in, pressing his nose into the curve of your neck and breathing in deeply, like he can’t get enough. A low groan leaves his throat as he exhales against your skin.

A shiver runs down your spine.

He unbuckles your pants, to which you pathetically and half-heartedly try to stop - a last attempt at dignity - before you feel his fingers on your groin and your head falls back with a soft, helpless moan.

“You’re drooling down here.” He says, voice ragged, with amused eyes that are darkened with desire. The way his hair is tousled, revealing his smooth forehead and eyebrows, the way he’s completely focused and disheveled - the image etches itself onto your brain. “See?”

You slap away his wet, glistening fingers as he holds them up in front of you to tease you.

He chuckles as he lowers it again, his thumb rubbing your bud as his other fingers rub across the wet fabric down to the hollow of it. Slow, and steadily.

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering.

Heat builds in your stomach, and your body starts to beg in anticipation for a pleasure you’ve repetitively drowned yourself in the past two days. Pleasure that’s become too addictive.

“Caleb-” You whine as you feel the burning urge for more. You tug at his pants. “Please…”

That’s all it takes.

He shifts, shucking off his own clothes with single-minded efficiency, then peels yours away just as quickly, until there’s nothing between you but heat and breath and want.

“A good girl deserves a reward,” he murmurs, voice thick with restraint, before settling between your thighs.

You gasp, fingers threading through his hair as he begins to kiss you there- slow at first, then deeper and bolder. His mouth moves with a maddening tenderness, as if savoring every inch of you. Every flick of his tongue, every soft suck draws out sounds from you you didn’t know you could make.

Your legs try to close around him instinctively, but he pins them gently apart with steady big, hot hands, while his sharp nose buries itself in your clit as he licks your fold down to your opening.

And as you hear him taking deep, vocal breaths, you look beyond your fluttering eyelids to catch the sight of him stroking himself slowly while sucking you deep. His cock is fully erect and squelching from precum.

You think you understand what he means to feel like you’re about to combust.

The sight pushes you over the edge - your body tightening, trembling under the flood of sensation.

“Caleb, wait, I’m - “

Despite your attempts to peel him off, he grips onto your soft thighs more firmly and sucks faster, to which you moan and gasp - before jaggedly bursting all over his face. And it’s true - it’s like your opening is drooling sloppily and stupidly with every burst and moan. He takes it all, drinking you in, lost in it, until you finally sag back to the floor, boneless and dazed.

Only then does he straighten his posture.

His face is flushed, lips swollen, chin slick with the evidence of your pleasure. He looks drunk on desire - half-ruined and half-ecstatic.

You sit up to wipe his face with trembling hands, and he closes his eyes, letting you.

But just as your fingertips brush across his cheek, you feel it - a slow press, deliberate and unyielding.

“Gotta loosen you up, hm?”

You gasp as his fingers slip inside you again.

Your body, already trembling from the last wave, jerks at the slightest touch against your sensitive walls. The floor beneath you is slick with arousal, and your thighs jolt as the wet sound of it echoes in the quiet room.

For a moment, your hand forgets what it was doing - caught halfway inside your shirt - while your gaze locks with his. You fall into his dark, demanding eyes, helplessly, like being pulled under a tide.

The rhythm of his fingers quickens, and your breath unravels with it. The aftershocks haven’t even faded, but he’s already coaxing you toward another. You clutch his wrist with shaking hands, but it’s too late.

You see his eyes flicker as you come again - fast and hard - your mind blanking as pleasure surges through you like electricity.

Dazed, you lie there for a moment, eyes tracing the pale ceiling above, trying to gather the pieces of yourself. But then, just as your breath begins to steady, you feel it again - his fingers, slow and insistent, nudging at your entrance once more.

You jolt, a small gasp slipping out as your hand flies to his wrist.

“Caleb. Please-”

His pupils are blown wide. A faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips - still swollen and kiss-bitten - like he’s barely holding himself back.

“Please what?” He murmurs, his voice low enough to hum through your chest.

You swallow. Your voice trembles.

“Please put it in…”

He looks at you like he’s expecting another answer.

“You gotta put it more clearly than that.”

The way his voice strains - you know he wants it as much as you do. But you decide to play along. You don’t have it in you to argue. Not right now.

You exhale shakily. The flush rising in your cheeks burns hotter than any touch.

“Please, I want your cock inside of me.”

It doesn’t take him long to get the condom.

You feel your mind fading white as he finally presses into you, slow and deep. His long, satisfied groan rings in your ears beyond the translucent curtains of pleasure.

“Ngh-”

You pant and lock eyes with his as he moves excruciatingly slow, in and out of you. Pulses of pleasure wash over your entire body like shallow waves on a shore.

He doesn’t even dare blink as he watches your face warp in various forms of pleasure.

“Caleb,” you whisper, voice barely audible. You reach for him, fingers tangling behind his neck. He leans down instantly, lips brushing yours in tender, breathless kisses.

“I love you.”

He says it softly in your ear, like a prayer whispered in the dark.

“I love you, so so much.”

He whispers again. Another kiss. Another breath.

You tighten your arms around his neck.

“These past few days have felt like a dream.”

He continues like a prayer, voice hot on your skin as he continuously rolls his hips against yours, deep and slowly. You can feel the folds within you slide up, and slide down with the movements of his cock.

“I don’t ever want to wake up.”

The way he whispers it slowly, reverently into your ears tugs at your heart strings vividly, and you feel your eyes sting.

“I love you too,” you manage, voice hoarse and shaking.

“Mmh-”

He lets out a short moan at what you say. His breaths become instantly ragged and his hips start moving faster, like he can’t hold back any longer.

He pumps into you like he’s done so many times the past two days. The wave that was silently washing onto shore turns into those of a storm, getting larger and larger, violently crashing into you with every thrust.

You and him just fit so well like a puzzle - you wonder how other people are able to function in their everyday lives when sex feels this good - this mind bogglingly good - each time.

You choke out moans bordering on screams as a jolt runs through you with each clap. You think you can see stars.

Caleb responds just as sensitively, moaning and panting your name religiously, each breath cutting off violently as if he can’t stand the sheer pleasure coursing through him. You feel the tension in him rising with each jagged thrust.

You feel the biggest wave yet looming in the horizon. As his thrusts become deeper and faster, with one strong stroke, his thick, throbbing tip hits your most sensitive spot, and the peak crashes into you with blinding force. Your body seizes, your breath ripped from your lungs in a cry as the pleasure slams through you. Your mind flashes with hot, all-consuming pleasure.

A beat later, Caleb groans low against your neck and follows you over the edge, hips snapping one last time as he buries himself deep. His body trembles and jerks with each release.

He pulls out and collapses on top of you. For a long moment, you stay like that. Tangled, sweat-damp, and breathless. You feel his heart pounding in rhythm with yours, fast and full and alive.

He cups your cheek and brings his head close, resting his forehead against yours like he can’t bear even an inch of distance. His breath is warm, steady, brushing against your skin as he nuzzles into the curve of your temple. One arm remains snug around your waist while the other traces idle, loving strokes down your arm - fingertips light, reverent, like he’s memorizing every shape of you.

Soft kisses follow: at your hairline, your cheek, the edge of your brow. None of them rushed. Each one placed with a kind of patient devotion that makes your heart ache.

And it’s then, in that quiet, post-storm stillness, that you realize that he has been holding back. Not just in what he does, but in how much he feels.

Because this - this tender, unhurried flood of affection - it’s fuller, heavier, denser than it was just two days ago. Back on Sunday night, looking back on it, you realize he was still restrained, careful, and testing the edges of what was allowed.

But now that you’ve dunk yourself into him, what is spilling out is something bigger, sweeter, and hungrier.

His wants and desires seem to really run much deeper and thicker than you could have possibly imagined. It’s deep, consuming, terrifying in its depth.

You feel yourself sinking into him, inch by inch, willingly. Letting the weight of him pull you down like gravity, further and further into the dark center of him.

And somewhere in that quiet descent, a question floats to the surface of your mind - How deep really, does his love go? and what happens if you sink too far?

────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ──────

Hope you guys enjoyed this!!!

Will try to update at least once a week :D

Likes and comments are life <3

tagged readers💕: @noxus123 @plzdonutpercieveme @captainstarnoir @mcdepressed290

[ladykailitha]

Spellbound Part 14

Here we are at the last chapter. I am so sad to see it end that I have decided I'm doing a sequel. I have three stories nearing the end and as soon as the second one is complete (whatever order that is in) I will start writing it.

It will be split into four parts. The town, Chrissy and Robin, Jonathan and Argyle, and Eddie and Steve.

In this we wrap up everything we didn't get to in the last chapter and Steve gets his well earned rest.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

~

The next time Steve awoke, the house felt bigger somehow. He was lying in a bed in a bedroom that didn’t look like his own.

The colors were more muted for a start. It didn’t have the vibrant greens and yellows he was known for. It wasn’t the blacks, greys, and reds of Eddie’s style either, so he wasn’t sure what part of the house he actually was in.

He struggled to sit up and really look at the room. It felt like the front room with the wide open windows and the smell of flowers coming through them. The sunlight warmed his spot on the bed and he felt nothing but comfort.

Just then the door opened to see Eddie walking in with Morgana on his arm and Gawain around shoulders.

“Nice to see you awake again, sleepyhead,” Eddie teased. “Morgana told me you were awake, so I thought I’d bring her in to see you. She’s been very concerned.”

Steve held out his hand and she flew right to him.

He stroked her breast and she rubbed her beak on his cheek. “I’m sorry I worried you. But I used up more power in a day then I have used my whole life time. My body is still adjusting to the new power levels.”

She rubbed his cheek again and Steve let out a gasp.

“Oh!” he muttered. “I had forgotten that familiars help regulate power levels. I guess I got so used to Circe doing it for me all the time.”

Morgana croaked and Steve laughed. “I’m sure you’ll remind me of all sorts of things I’ve forgotten. You really are beautiful.”

She croaked again and nipped at his hair.

He grinned at her. “No, I mean it. You have such beautiful coloring.”

“Sorry to interrupt the love fest,” Eddie said with a grin, “but we should see if you well enough to go out into the front room.”

Steve threw off the blankets and moved to stand. And immediately he sat back down. “Oops.”

Eddie walked over to the bed and held out his hands. Morgana took flight and flew out the open door. Steve, now unburdened by the one pound bird could reach out for Eddie’s hands to stand on his feet.

Eddie stepped back and Steve stepped with him, soon they were at the door. Eddie turned around and slipped his arm around Steve’s waist and led him into the front room where it seemed a class of some sort was going on.

Robin, Max, and Chrissy sat around Jonathan and Argyle as the two men taught them about being a witch.

Jonathan spotted him first. “Ah ha! The hero awakens.”

They all turned to where Steve and Eddie were standing by the door and suddenly Steve was being hugged by all the girls.

“I’m glad you’re safe, dummy,” Robin murmured affectionately.

Steve was led over to a new big fluffy armchair that Bav had absolutely just created for him. “Please tell me that I wasn’t out for another week, I think I’d cry.”

Jonathan laughed. “That would be hilarious, but no. It’s only the evening of the day you woke up for the time.”

Steve let out a relieved sigh. “Oh thank god! I still feel like I’ve been punched in the chest over and over again.”

“The unfortunate side effect of losing your familiar, I’m afraid, my good sir!” Argyle explained. “Having the little lady nearby will help regain your balance, but it will be some time before you feel yourself again.”

“Speaking of familiars,” Steve asked, “how have they all been getting along?”

Robin snorted. “Merlin thought Jadis was a chew toy until she tapped his nose. But other than that, things have been fine. Bav is three times her normal size to accommodate everyone and is looking forward to things going back to something more like normal once you’re on your feet again.”

Steve rubbed his eyebrow. “Who’s all been staying here while I was out?”

Eddie started ticking them off on his fingers. “You’ve got your two apprentices, Max and Robin, me and Wayne, of course. Argyle and Jonathan, because Joyce is mad at Jonathan for not coming to get Will and taking him to his place. And Chrissy!”

Steve blinked at him for a moment trying to take in all the information. “First Jonathan, do I have to talk to your mom about a town wide fucking spell that clouded her mind, not yours?”

Jonathan burst out laughing. “Please do! She doesn’t seem to believe me even though she witnessed the destruction of the demon and its spell.”

“I’ll put it on my list of things to do,” Steve said sagely. “Next question, Chrissy, Robin’s true love, aside, what are you doing in my house?”

Chrissy winced.

“I told you he’d have a problem with it,” Max snarked. “She could have stayed with any number of the other houses in her acquaintance, just not this one.”

“But Eddie and Wayne is staying here!” Robin protested. “Why can Chrissy?”

Eddie pinched his nose and instantly Steve understood that this argument had been going on all week.

“Because, Robin...” Eddie said for what must have been the millionth time that week, “as centennial sorcerers, it’s literally painful to be apart now that we’ve touched. You know that isn’t the case with you and Chrissy.”

“Plus,” Argyle said with a grimace. “Bav hasn’t forgiven her yet and keeps moving stuff around on her.”

Robin flushed a dark red. She knew she was being ridiculous, but this was her true love...

Steve realized something and then looked around the room, hurriedly. “Hey, Bav, where did you put my clothes from the day of the battle?”

Eddie frowned. “What do you need, love?”

A little end table appeared at Steve’s elbow with the clothes. He went searching through it and pulled out the little amulet he found.

“Found it!” he called. “Chrissy, catch!” He tossed the amulet at her and she caught it deftly.

She opened her hands in confusion, then her face cleared. “Oh! You found it! I thought I had lost it forever.”

Robin peered over her shoulder. In Chrissy’s hand was an amulet very similar to the one Argyle had made for her.

“An amulet?” she asked looking up at Steve. “Where did you find that?”

“After the battle with Jason, I found it on the ground,” he said licking his lips. “Circe told me it was hers. This is what must have been protecting her from the controlling spell the Carvers put her under.”

Chrissy’s head shot up. “Oh! I thought it was just a locket my mother gave me before she passed away. I didn’t realize it was an amulet.”

“Why don’t tell us your story and see if we can’t get everything sorted out?” Steve urged her gently.

“I never knew my father and my mother sold crystals on the side of the road to help keep a roof over our head and food in our bellies,” she began.

“Her mother was a witch too?” Max huffed. “Is everyone a witch in this town?”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “No, just descendants of them. I got looking into the nasty stuff the Carvers were up to and they picked Hawkins especially for its strong supernatural connection. If they could control Hawkins, the rest of the country would be easy by comparison.”

Steve pinched his nose. “I should have guessed. I think that’s why my mother sent me here to set up shop. For the same reason. Which ever side controlled Hawkins would control the country.”

“The townsfolk are calling for you to be mayor,” Wayne said, coming in from the back garden. “Pardon me for eavesdropping, but I thought it was relevant.”

Steve snorted. “I’m not going to be mayor thank you. I have enough trouble as it is without add a whole town’s worth of it.”

Argyle nodded sagely. “It should be someone who is both on the side of the ordinary and the supernatural. That way he or she would be fair.”

Everyone in the room turned to Wayne.

He blinked at them for a moment. “Why is everyone looking at me?”

They continued to stare.

“Oh no,” he muttered, waving his hands. “That would be a bad idea. I would make a mess of things.”

Robin half shrugged. “Can’t be any worse than a demon carrying immortal with designs on world domination.”

“Well,” he said with a huff of laughter, “I can’t argue with that. I’ll put my hat in the ring then.”

Steve smiled at him. “You’ll do a good job.” Then he turned to Chrissy. “Sorry about that, please go ahead and finish your story.”

“When I was about fifteen,” Chrissy said with a faint blush on her cheeks, “she got really sick and completely wasted away. She couldn’t eve keep food down toward the end. She wasn’t even cold in the ground when the Carvers arrived at the cottage with a writ saying that my father had turned over parental rights of me to them and that I would be their ward. I was told to call the Mayor Father.”

“I doubt that very much,” Steve murmured. “That your father handed over your rights to them, I mean. They probably didn’t even bother looking for him and just made up some random story to get what they wanted. Which unfortunately was you pregnant by Jason, then the mayor would assume Jason’s form and once a son was born, you’d be done away with.”

“Well,” Robin said wide-eyed. “That’s more frightening than I thought his plan would have been. Disgusting.”

“It really is vile,” Chrissy confirmed. “But since my birth my mother insisted I wear this amulet.” She held up the necklace Steve had returned to her. “Said it would protect me all my days.”

Steve nodded. “That’s why you were constantly able to slip their leash. The arrival at my cottage. The befriending Eddie. The ability to question them at all. And it was because of that amulet.”

The walls of the cottage turned a dark grey. Steve nodded.

“It’s still no excuse for how rude she was when she requested the love charm,” he said, glaring at her.

Chrissy ducked her head. “You’re right. I was rude and dismissive. I’m sorry. And while Robin lives here, it’s not her house. It’s yours. The only person who has the right to let me stay here is you.”

The walls lightened to a dove grey.

Steve snickered. “It appears Bav agrees. It will be a long time before I could trust you. I understand you were under the influence of a spell. But that spell merely kept you docile, your attitude was your own.” He turned to Morgana. “Hello, dearest. Would you be so kind as to send a message to Nona for me? Ask her if the Hendersons would be willing to house Chrissy until the dust settles?”

Morgana cawed, puffing out her chest proudly, before flying off.

“Max,” Steve asked. “Please would you ask Zoomer if Joyce would come here so that I can properly chastise her for blaming Jonathan about the redcap.”

Max grinned. “It would be our honor.”

Jonathan’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Thanks, Steve. I really appreciate you mediating this for me. I know you just woke up.”

Steve nodded. He turned to Robin who looked properly ashamed.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she muttered. “I should have talked to someone else about having Chrissy house with them until we get her living sorted.”

“Actually,” Wayne said with a small smile. “I think I might have the obvious solution to that.”

Everyone turned to Wayne.

“If I’m to be mayor,” he said with a half shrug, “I’ll be living in that big house, and with Eddie living here, our cottage would be empty.”

Eddie blinked for a moment. “Oh! That would be perfect. With Robin about to pass her exam, she’s going to need a place of her own, but something nearby so Max can still be taught reading and writing. Her and Chrissy can have it.”

“Oh!” Chrissy said, wide-eyed. “That would be perfect! I wouldn’t change a thing! I love the little Gothic feel it has!”

The tension in Eddie’s spine loosened at that. “Yes, thank you!”

Steve frowned and started counting off on his fingers. “Okay, so we’ve Chrissy and Robin sorted. The thing with Joyce and Jonathan to be sorted soon. Wayne as mayor. Eddie living here with me and Max. Is there anything left to sort out?”

Everyone looked around at each other.

“Billy is on the mend,” Max said with a grin. “And a master carpenter reached out to train him enough to past the master’s test so he can keep the shop.”

“That’s good to hear,” Steve said sadly. It was hard that Billy had to kill Tommy, but he was glad that the boy would be just fine. “Anything else?”

Eddie smiled down at his love. “No, sweetheart, that’s about it.”

“Yep,” Wayne said with a smile. “With the townsfolk regaining their memories about the supernatural, the good goolies and beasties are making a comeback. There is color in the town now. I’d say you deserve the rest.”

Steve looked around at his found family and smiled. Yeah, he had a lot to be grateful for.

Eddie slipped into the chair and it lengthened into a love seat, so they could cuddle.

He smiled up at his house and sighed. “Thanks, Bav.”

~

Tag List: COMPLETED

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2- @gregre369 @cryptid-system @kultiras @kimsnooks @maya-custodios-dionach

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @bookbinderbitch

4- @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006 @yikes-a-bee

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10- @themoonagainstmers @estrellami-1 @steddieislife

[sam-i-damn]

Chapter 8 leak or something, trust me guys Toby Fox is my grandfather.

Anyway, how is it that 2 characters with No Lines and all but Zero Screen Time have taken over my mind for entire weeks.

Asriel sprites were made by MisterMike on spriters-resource .com, and lightly edited by me.

[urlocalbitchboy]

Lil moments from chapter 8 of @yunuen's fic "The Line Is Covered In Jellyfish" that had my jaw actually on the floor. I forgot to post here, so now I throw this at yall 🙂‍↕️

Bonus:

More currently in the works 👍🪼

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, always and forever ࿐‧₊ we survived the great war pt.2

chapter summary: Happy kids means a happy life.

word count: 15.9k+ (30.6k total)

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this spans from where we left off in the last chapter to the day before logan wakes up in dofp/nothing matters but you

(pls excuse the summary i didn't know what to put, lol)

this is the second part! go read the first part!

warnings/tags: reader wears glasses, fluff, excessive use of the words 'lucky' and 'magic', soft!logan, soft!laura, thanksgiving and christmas, pregnancy/giving birth (you're gonna have to read to find out😏), did i mention fluff?

series masterlist - chapter 18.0

“Daddy!”

Logan abruptly woke up, blinking at Gabby who was straddling his bare stomach, and to Laura who was standing by the bed.

“What?” He rasped. “It’s 8 in the damn morning.”

Gabby leaned forward, tiny hands pressing against his chest. “Mommy’s birthday! We go shopping while she has meeting with Uncle Scott!”

Logan blinked again, pushing himself up slightly on his elbows, careful not to jostle Gabby off his stomach.

“You wanna go shopping right now?” he grumbled, glancing at the clock on the nightstand again. “You couldn’t have waited until after breakfast?”

Gabby shook her head earnestly, her curls bouncing with the movement. “No! We hafta go early before Mommy finishes her meeting with Uncle Scott!”

Laura, arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe, smirked slightly. “Yeah, dad. Priorities.”

Logan sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright, alright. I’m up.” He carefully set Gabby aside, swinging his legs out of bed and grabbing a shirt from the chair. “You two even know what you’re gonna get her?”

Gabby nodded enthusiastically, hopping down from the bed. “Books!”

Logan raised an eyebrow, tugging the shirt over his head. “Kid, your mom’s already got more books than the damn library.”

Gabby’s face scrunched thoughtfully, but she wasn’t deterred. “But these are gonna be special books. Mommy says you can never have too many!”

Laura gave a small shrug, slipping her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. “She did say that.”

Logan sighed, grabbing his wallet and keys from the dresser. “Alright then, c’mon. Let’s get this over with.”

Gabby immediately squealed in excitement, grabbing Logan’s hand as they stepped into the hallway. “Can we go to the bookstore near the smoothie place? Mommy likes that one.”

Logan nodded, allowing her to tug him down the hallway. “Yeah, kid. We can go to the smoothie place too.”

Laura fell into step beside them, casting Logan a sidelong glance. “You realize Gabby just wanted a smoothie, right?”

Gabby gasped dramatically, turning to her sister. “Not just smoothies! Mommy’s birthday is important!”

Laura raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, the smirk never leaving her lips as they made their way down the stairs.

As they stepped outside into the bright morning sun, Logan unlocked the truck. “Alright, Gabby, get in your seat.”

She scrambled in, carefully buckling Nova beside her while Laura climbed in next to her. Logan got behind the wheel, starting up the truck and pulling away from the mansion.

The ride was quiet—for about two minutes.

Gabby leaned forward, peeking through the gap between the seats. “Daddy?”

Logan glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Yeah?”

“How old is Mommy gonna be?”

Logan snorted softly, eyes still on the road. “You know how old she’s gonna be, Gabby. You asked her yesterday.”

Gabby huffed, settling back into her seat. “But birthdays are confusing. I forgot.”

Laura turned her head toward Gabby slightly. “She’s gonna be forty-six.”

Gabby’s eyes went wide. “Wow! That’s old!”

Logan chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, don’t tell your mom that, princess.”

Laura smirked, pulling out her comic. “Probably shouldn’t.”

Gabby gasped dramatically again, hugging Nova to her chest. “I won’t! It’s a secret.”

Logan pulled into the small parking lot a short time later, shutting off the engine. “Alright, you two. Keep it quick.”

The girls climbed out, Gabby taking Logan’s hand again as they walked into the bookstore. She immediately let go, darting toward the physics and astronomy section.

Laura lingered beside Logan, arms crossed, her voice low. “She planned this, you know. Last night she made a list and everything.”

Logan snorted. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

A moment later, Gabby reappeared, holding a thick book up triumphantly. “Daddy! Look!”

Logan crouched down, reading the cover. “Quantum Field Theory? You sure about that, princess?”

Gabby nodded vigorously. “Uh-huh! Mommy loves quantum stuff.”

Laura raised an eyebrow. “You sure she doesn’t already have that one?”

Gabby’s face fell slightly, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “Um… I dunno.”

Logan sighed, gently taking the book. “It’s alright, kid. Let’s pick a few, then we’ll figure it out.”

Gabby immediately brightened, running back toward the shelves. “Okay! I’ll find more!”

Laura sighed, shaking her head as she followed after Gabby. Logan stood again, flipping through the book with a quiet chuckle.

After fifteen minutes and some careful deliberation, Gabby finally decided on three hefty physics books. Logan paid at the register, watching as Gabby happily clutched the bag to her chest.

Laura glanced at Logan as they stepped back outside. “Smoothies now?”

Logan huffed out a quiet laugh, nodding. “Yeah, let’s go.”

A short walk down the block brought them to the smoothie place. Gabby immediately rushed forward, pressing her nose against the glass case as she examined the options.

“I want strawberry banana! Mommy likes that one too,” Gabby declared, bouncing on her heels.

Laura leaned against the counter beside Logan. “I’ll take mango.”

Logan nodded at the teenager behind the register. “Make that two strawberry bananas and a mango.”

A few minutes later, Gabby was sipping her smoothie, humming contentedly as they walked back to the truck. Logan cast a glance at her as he opened the door. “You happy now?”

Gabby beamed, nodding furiously. “Uh-huh! Mommy’s gonna love her presents.”

Laura climbed in, quietly adding, “She’d better, after all that.”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he got behind the wheel. “Let’s head back before she finishes her meetin’ with Scott.”

Gabby smiled contentedly, holding Nova in one arm and her smoothie in the other. “Lucky magic.”

Laura rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her drink. “Yeah, Gabby. Lucky magic.”

---

Later, after finishing wrapping the books, Gabby yanked Logan into the kitchen. “Cake! Mommy needs a cake!”

Logan hesitated, eyeing the kitchen counters skeptically before rubbing the back of his neck. "Listen, princess, I ain't exactly the cake-makin' type."

Gabby stared up at him, eyes wide with disbelief. "But Mommy always makes cakes for everyone!"

Laura, leaning against the counter with arms crossed, arched an eyebrow. "Have you ever actually seen Dad bake anything?"

Gabby considered this, her face scrunched in thought before finally shaking her head. "No."

Logan sighed. "Exactly. Look, how about instead of a cake, we make somethin' else? Somethin' special for Mommy."

Gabby's bottom lip jutted out as she considered. "Like what?"

Logan crouched down to Gabby's level, resting his elbows on his knees. "How about blueberry pancakes? They're special to Mommy."

Laura tilted her head slightly. "Blueberry pancakes?"

Logan nodded slowly, his eyes softening a little. "Yeah. She used to make 'em with her grandma when she was a kid, especially on birthdays and special occasions."

Gabby gasped, eyes brightening immediately. "Mommy loves blueberries!"

Logan chuckled quietly. "Yeah, kiddo, she does."

Laura, pushing off the counter, stepped closer. "So, are you actually gonna make them? Or just supervise?"

Logan shot her a look. "We're makin' them. And you're helpin', kid."

Laura smirked slightly but didn't argue, opening a cabinet to pull out the pancake ingredients. Gabby scrambled up onto a chair at the counter, bouncing eagerly.

"I wanna mix!" she announced, her small hands already grabbing for the bowl.

Logan sighed, gently nudging the bowl closer to her. "Fine, princess, you can mix. But careful, alright? Don't wanna make a mess before your mom even sees 'em."

Gabby nodded seriously, gripping the wooden spoon tight as Logan poured ingredients into the bowl. She stirred with determination, her little tongue sticking out slightly as she concentrated.

Laura leaned against the counter beside Logan, quietly setting a container of fresh blueberries next to the bowl. "Did you get her anything?"

Logan glanced at her. "Course I did. I'll show you later."

Laura raised an eyebrow but didn't push, turning her attention back to Gabby, who was enthusiastically mixing the batter with such force it splashed slightly over the side. "Oops," Gabby whispered, eyes wide as she looked up at Logan.

He sighed, hiding a smile as he gently guided her stirring. "It's alright, kid. Just slow it down a little."

Gabby nodded seriously, adjusting her grip. "Like this?"

"Yeah, just like that."

Logan started heating the griddle while Laura helped Gabby carefully fold the blueberries into the batter. Gabby, of course, insisted on adding as many as physically possible, her small face set in determination. "Mommy loves blueberries. So we need lots," she explained.

Laura shrugged, not bothering to argue. "Fair enough."

Soon, the kitchen filled with the scent of pancakes cooking, the soft sound of batter sizzling on the griddle a comforting backdrop to Gabby's excited chatter. "When Mommy gets here, we yell 'surprise!'" Gabby announced firmly, bouncing slightly in her chair. "She'll be so happy."

Logan smirked softly, flipping another pancake. "Yeah, kid. She'll love it."

Just then, Jean walked into the kitchen, pausing to take in the scene before her. Her eyes scanned the flour-dusted countertops, the bowl of batter, and Gabby's enthusiastic grin. "Well, this is a surprise," Jean said with a warm smile. "What's going on?"

Gabby immediately perked up. "We're makin' pancakes for Mommy's birthday!"

Jean glanced at Logan, clearly amused. "Pancakes? Logan, I didn't know you cooked."

Laura crossed her arms, leaning back against the counter. "He doesn't."

Jean chuckled quietly, leaning over to kiss Gabby on the forehead. "I'm sure your mom will be thrilled."

Gabby beamed, pointing at the griddle. "Look! They're blueberry ones."

Jean's smile softened. "Your mom loves blueberry pancakes."

Gabby nodded furiously. "Uh-huh! Daddy says Mommy used to make 'em with her grandma!"

Jean nodded softly. "That's right."

Gabby went back to watching Logan flip pancakes, completely mesmerized. "They look good, Daddy."

Logan smirked slightly. "Glad you approve, princess."

After a few minutes, a small stack of pancakes sat neatly on a plate, topped generously with syrup and extra blueberries. Logan exhaled quietly, rubbing his temple. "Think that's enough?"

Gabby frowned, considering. "More?"

Laura shook her head, already grabbing plates from the cabinet. "It's plenty."

Jean glanced at the clock on the wall. "Y/N's meeting with Scott should be wrapping up soon."

Gabby bounced eagerly. "I'll go get her!"

Logan shook his head gently. "Wait for her to finish, princess. We'll surprise her when she gets here."

Gabby pouted slightly but nodded, carefully setting Nova down beside the pancakes. "Nova guards pancakes. No eating."

Laura sighed. "He doesn't even have a mouth."

Gabby frowned deeply. "Nova's good at guarding."

Logan chuckled quietly, placing a gentle hand on Gabby's shoulder. "Alright, kiddo. How about we get cleaned up while we wait?"

Gabby immediately scrambled off the chair, tugging Laura along with her. "Hurry! Mommy's coming soon!"

As Gabby and Laura disappeared down the hallway to wash their hands, Jean turned back to Logan with a knowing smile. "It's sweet, Logan."

He arched an eyebrow, turning to wipe the countertop. "Just pancakes."

Jean smiled gently, helping him clear some of the dishes. "You know it's more than that."

Logan glanced at her quietly for a moment before exhaling softly. "Yeah."

Before Jean could say anything else, Gabby's voice echoed loudly down the hall. "Mommy! Hurry! We got a surprise!"

Jean chuckled softly, stepping aside as Gabby came rushing back into the kitchen, dragging you along with her. Laura followed close behind, her expression amused.

"Surprise!" Gabby shouted excitedly, waving her arms toward the stack of pancakes.

You stopped in the doorway, eyes widening slightly behind your glasses. "You made pancakes?"

Gabby nodded furiously, gripping your hand tightly. "Uh-huh! Blueberry ones! Like with your grandma!"

Your breath hitched slightly, a soft warmth filling your chest as you met Logan's gaze. He gave you a small, gentle smirk, stepping closer to press a quiet kiss to your forehead.

"Happy birthday, darlin'," he murmured softly.

You smiled shyly, adjusting your glasses as you squeezed his hand gently. "Thank you. All of you."

Gabby tugged insistently at your sleeve. "Try 'em! Daddy flipped 'em all by himself!"

You laughed softly, following her toward the table. "Well, then I'm sure they're perfect."

Logan watched quietly as you took a seat, Gabby immediately climbing up beside you and Laura joining on your other side. Jean squeezed Logan's shoulder gently before stepping toward the table herself.

"Come on," Jean said warmly. "These pancakes aren't going to eat themselves."

Gabby giggled, her eyes shining happily. "Lucky magic pancakes!"

You smiled softly, reaching over to gently brush Gabby's curls from her forehead. "Yeah, baby. Lucky magic."

---

“It’s been a while since we’ve done this,” Ororo commented, taking a slow sip of her lemon water.

You hummed, adjusting your glasses as you set your fork down. “Going out without the kids?”

Ororo smirked. “That, too. But mostly just… taking time for ourselves.”

Jean stretched, rolling her shoulders slightly before leaning back in her chair. “I’ll admit, I needed this.” She sighed, taking another bite of her salad. “I swear, if I had to listen to one more student argue about why their paper should get an extension…”

You chuckled. “Let me guess. They ‘forgot’ it was due?”

“They always forget,” Jean muttered, shaking her head. “And then they hit me with the ‘I had so much going on’ excuse.” She gestured vaguely. “Like they’re not all just playing video games until three in the morning.”

Ororo smirked. “I don’t know. I think you’re going soft.”

Jean scoffed. “I am not going soft.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You gave that one kid an extra two days because he had a ‘vibe shift.’”

Ororo choked on her water. “A what?”

Jean groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It was just one time.”

“You gave another one an extension because Mercury was in retrograde,” you added.

“That’s science!” Jean argued.

Ororo shook her head, laughing. “Jean, you’re officially a lost cause.”

Jean huffed, crossing her arms. “You’re both the worst.”

You smiled, stirring your iced coffee with your straw. It had been a while since the three of you went out—between classes, training, and parenting, it wasn’t easy to find the time. But now, sitting at a café with Ororo and Jean, the sun warm on your skin, you realized how much you missed this.

---

You left the café feeling lighter, conversation easy between the three of you as you wandered through the mall. Jean made a beeline for the candle shop, where she immediately started sniffing every scent in sight.

“I feel like we always end up here,” Ororo commented, picking up a lavender candle.

You smiled. “It’s tradition at this point.”

Jean, holding two candles in each hand, turned to you. “Okay, tell me which one smells better.”

You took both, giving each a quick sniff before holding one up. “This one.”

Jean nodded sagely. “Agreed.”

Ororo smirked. “You didn’t even smell them at the same time.”

Jean scoffed. “I trust Y/N’s judgment.”

You rolled your eyes but grabbed a couple of candles for yourself—one vanilla and one sandalwood. The three of you paid, chatting easily as you made your way back toward the parking lot.

Then, just as you were approaching the car, Jean suddenly sucked in a sharp breath, her whole body stiffening.

You immediately turned to her, concern flaring in your chest. “Jean?”

Jean exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to her lower stomach. “Ow—okay, that really hurt.”

Ororo stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”

Jean winced, rubbing her stomach. “I don’t know. Just—felt like a really bad cramp.”

You frowned. “You don’t usually get cramps this bad, do you?”

Jean shook her head, shifting her weight slightly. “Not usually, but—ah, shit.” She doubled over slightly, gripping the car door for support.

Panic flickered in your chest. “Jean—”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, though her voice was tight with pain.

Ororo wasn’t buying it. “We’re taking you back to the mansion.”

Jean groaned. “Guys, it’s just—ow, damn it—probably just stress or something.”

You exchanged a look with Ororo before stepping forward, placing a firm hand on Jean’s arm. “Jean, you’re not fine. Get in the car.”

Jean exhaled through her nose, clearly frustrated, but another wave of pain had her gripping the door handle like a lifeline. “Fine,” she muttered.

Ororo didn’t waste any time getting into the driver’s seat, while you helped Jean ease into the back. She was breathing heavily, her brows furrowed, a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

As soon as you were in the car, Ororo peeled out of the parking lot.

“Jean,” you said carefully, glancing back at her. “Are you sure this is just cramps?”

Jean groaned, leaning her head back against the seat. “I don’t know, Y/N. It’s probably nothing.”

You weren’t convinced.

Ororo, gripping the wheel tightly, muttered, “Yeah, well, I’d rather let Hank be the judge of that.”

Jean sighed but didn’t argue. You tried to focus on the road ahead, but something about this felt… off. Really off. And you had a feeling you were about to find out why.

---

By the time you reached the mansion, Jean was in even more pain. Ororo barely had the car in park before you jumped out, helping Jean toward the medbay.

Hank looked up as soon as you walked in, his expression shifting to concern. “What happened?”

“She suddenly got these awful cramps,” you explained, still supporting Jean. “She says it’s probably nothing, but—”

Jean groaned. “Because it is probably nothing.”

Hank wasn’t convinced. “Sit.”

Jean muttered under her breath but let you and Ororo help her onto the exam table. Hank immediately started scanning her, frowning at the readings.

Then, suddenly, he froze. His head snapped up, eyes wide. “Jean…”

Jean, still wincing, looked at him. “What?”

Hank swallowed, staring at her like he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “You’re in labor.”

Jean blinked. Then she let out a short, incredulous laugh. "What?"

Hank glanced back at the monitor, double-checking his readings. "You're in labor, Jean."

Jean stared at him like he’d just told her she was an alien. "That’s—no. That’s impossible."

You exchanged a look with Ororo, then turned back to Jean, your stomach tightening. "Jean…"

Jean shook her head sharply. "No, Y/N, I mean it. That can’t be right. I don’t look pregnant. I’ve had my periods!"

Hank was already grabbing another scanner, adjusting the settings. "I understand this is surprising, but I’m telling you—" He turned the monitor toward her. "You're experiencing contractions. Your body is preparing for delivery."

Jean stared at the screen, her face pale. "That’s—no."

Ororo, standing near the exam table with her arms crossed, spoke carefully. "Jean, is there any chance—"

"No," Jean snapped, before immediately softening. "I mean… I would know. Wouldn’t I?"

Hank exhaled, his voice gentle. "Not necessarily. There are rare cases where pregnancy symptoms don’t present in a traditional way. Some people continue having menstrual cycles, and if the baby is positioned in certain ways, the body doesn’t expand as noticeably."

Jean looked at him like he’d lost his mind. "Rare cases?" She gestured wildly at herself. "This is way beyond rare, Hank!"

Hank sighed. "I know. But your vitals don’t lie. Your body is in labor."

Jean shook her head again, her breathing picking up. "No, I—I can’t—" She winced sharply, gripping the edge of the table as another contraction hit. "Damn it—"

You immediately reached for her hand. "Jean, breathe."

Jean’s fingers squeezed yours tightly, her knuckles white. "This—this doesn’t make sense—"

Ororo rubbed her temple, her usually calm expression showing the barest flicker of unease. "Okay, let’s focus on what we do know. Hank, is the baby okay?"

Hank nodded, adjusting the monitor. "From what I can tell, yes. The heart rate is strong, and everything seems to be progressing normally. But I need to do a more detailed scan."

Jean groaned, closing her eyes. "I can’t believe this is happening."

You squeezed her hand again, your own mind racing. You had known Jean for years. If she had even suspected something like this, she would’ve said something.

"Jean," you said softly, "I know this is overwhelming, but we need to take this one step at a time."

Jean let out a shaky breath, her grip still tight on your hand. "This shouldn’t be happening."

You nodded. "But it is. And we’re going to figure it out."

Jean’s breathing was still uneven, but she gave a small nod.

Hank stepped closer, his expression serious. "We need to get you properly set up for delivery. I’ll call Charles—"

"No," Jean interrupted, eyes flashing open. "No Charles. Not yet."

Ororo frowned. "Jean—"

Jean shook her head, her free hand pressing against her forehead. "I just—I need a second, okay? I can’t—I need a second."

You glanced at Ororo, who gave you a barely perceptible nod. "Okay," you murmured, squeezing Jean’s hand. "We’re here. Just breathe."

Jean exhaled, her eyes squeezing shut again. "This is insane."

Hank sighed. "Jean, believe me, I’m just as shocked as you are. But we need to—"

Before he could finish, the medbay door suddenly swung open.

"Hey, what is going on—" Scott stopped mid-step, his sharp gaze scanning the room before landing on Jean, who was still gripping the exam table like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. His brows furrowed.

"Jean?" He crossed the room in three quick strides, immediately standing beside her. "What’s going on? Are you alright?"

Jean swallowed, clearly struggling for words, still reeling from shock. "Scott, I—" She winced sharply, cutting herself off as another wave of pain hit.

You gently squeezed her hand, glancing up at Scott. "She’s in labor."

Scott stared at you for a beat, clearly not comprehending. "What?"

Jean let out an exasperated breath. "Apparently, I’m in labor."

Scott’s eyes widened behind his glasses. "Labor? Jean—you’re pregnant?"

Jean shook her head, looking at him helplessly. "I didn’t know. I swear, Scott, I had no idea."

Hank cleared his throat softly. "It's an extremely rare phenomenon. Jean’s shown none of the obvious symptoms. Everything seemed normal—until now."

Scott dragged a hand down his face, clearly stunned. "I—how is this possible?"

Jean exhaled sharply, squeezing your hand tighter. "Believe me, I’m wondering the same thing."

You watched Scott carefully, sensing his confusion turning into anxiety. "Scott, Jean didn’t know. None of us did."

Scott nodded slowly, clearly trying to steady himself. After a moment, he reached for Jean’s other hand. "Alright. Alright, we’ll figure this out."

Jean met his gaze, her own expression softening with relief and gratitude. "Thank you."

Ororo shifted closer to Hank. "What now? Do we have everything we need?"

Hank nodded, adjusting the monitors quickly. "We have everything here, and everything looks stable. The baby’s healthy, but progressing quickly. Jean, your contractions are getting stronger. You’re likely close to active labor already."

Jean groaned softly, dropping her head back against the table. "God, this is so surreal."

You leaned closer, speaking softly so only Jean could hear you. "I’m here. It’s okay, Jean."

Jean closed her eyes briefly, breathing deeply before looking at you again. "Thank you, Y/N."

Scott spoke up again, his voice tense but resolute. "Alright, Hank. What do we do?"

Hank stepped forward calmly, his voice reassuring. "Let’s get Jean set up in a more comfortable spot and make sure she has everything she needs. I’ll be monitoring every step of the way."

Scott nodded quickly, clearly struggling to stay calm. "Right. Jean, whatever you need, okay? I’m right here."

Jean nodded, gripping both yours and Scott’s hands tightly. "I just—I still can’t wrap my head around this."

Ororo gently squeezed Jean’s shoulder, her presence calm and reassuring. "You don’t have to. Not right now. Just focus on you and the baby."

Jean let out a shaky breath. "Right. Right, okay."

Hank stepped closer, beginning to carefully guide Jean toward the next room, his voice steady and gentle. "Let’s get you comfortable."

Scott followed close behind, still clearly reeling but determined to remain steady for Jean.

You turned to Ororo, your chest tight. "I think she needs us both right now."

Ororo nodded immediately. "Agreed. She’d do the same for us."

You exhaled softly, following the group into the next room. Jean sat down on the prepared bed carefully, breathing deeply as she adjusted herself, still looking stunned. She glanced at you and Ororo with wide eyes, clearly overwhelmed. "You’re both staying?" she asked quietly.

You moved closer, gently sitting beside her. "We’re not going anywhere."

Ororo sat at Jean’s other side, offering a warm, steady presence. "We’re here as long as you need us."

Jean closed her eyes briefly, clearly comforted. "Thank you."

Scott stood beside her, holding her hand tightly, clearly unsure but not backing away. "Whatever happens, Jean, we’ll handle it."

Hank quietly worked, monitoring and preparing everything carefully and efficiently. "Jean, when the next contraction hits, breathe as deeply and evenly as possible. We’ll guide you through everything."

Jean nodded slowly, bracing herself as another contraction approached. She looked around the room, taking in the presence of everyone there, grounding herself. "Okay."

You gently rubbed her shoulder, keeping your voice calm and steady. "You can do this."

Jean let out a shaky breath, nodding again. "I really hope you’re right."

---

Only a few hours later, Nathaniel Summers was born.

Jean was propped up carefully in the bed, exhaustion clear on her face but overshadowed by wonder as she gazed down at the tiny bundle in her arms.

You were sitting beside her, still processing the absolute whirlwind of the past few hours. It felt surreal—none of you had woken up this morning expecting Jean to have a baby. "He's beautiful," you said softly, adjusting your glasses to get a better look at Nathaniel's tiny features.

Jean smiled weakly, her finger brushing carefully over his cheek. "He's perfect. I just—I still can't believe it."

Scott was on Jean's other side, looking dazed but quietly awed as he gently held one of Nathaniel's tiny hands. "Yeah, well, I think we're all still working on believing it."

Ororo stood at the foot of the bed, her usual composed expression gentle with genuine warmth as she looked at Jean. "You did amazing, Jean."

Jean exhaled shakily, clearly emotional. "Thank you—all of you. Honestly, I don't know how I would've done this alone."

Hank stepped forward, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "I know this was a shock, but you handled it incredibly well. Nathaniel is perfectly healthy."

Jean nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Hank."

You glanced up as the medbay door opened quietly, revealing Logan standing awkwardly in the doorway, Gabby and Laura beside him. Gabby was clutching Nova tightly, her eyes wide as she peered curiously into the room.

"Is it okay?" Logan asked gruffly. "Gabby wouldn't stop askin' about Jean."

Jean smiled, tired but welcoming. "Come in."

Gabby immediately bounded into the room, Nova pressed against her chest. Laura trailed quietly behind her, expression curious but reserved. Gabby stopped beside you, standing on her tiptoes to peek at the baby. "Whoa," she whispered dramatically, eyes huge. "Jean had a baby?"

You gently squeezed her shoulder, nodding. "She did."

Gabby considered this for a second, her little brow furrowing seriously. "Did it hurt?"

Jean laughed softly, exhausted but amused. "Yeah, Gabby. It hurt."

Gabby's eyes widened even further. "Like a lot?"

"Gabby," Logan gently warned.

Jean shook her head gently, smiling reassuringly. "It's okay. Yes, sweetheart, it hurt a lot—but it was worth it."

Gabby nodded slowly, looking down at Nova like they were sharing a secret. "He's little."

Laura leaned against Logan, crossing her arms as she studied Nathaniel quietly. "Do you know his name yet?"

Jean smiled, glancing at Scott briefly before answering. "Nathaniel. Nathaniel Summers."

Gabby immediately brightened. "That's a nice name!"

Laura nodded slightly. "Yeah, it's good."

Logan, still lingering near the doorway, rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, congratulations, Red. Looks like ya handled the surprise alright."

Jean chuckled softly. "Thanks, Logan. It wasn't easy, but I think we'll be alright."

Logan gave a small, genuine smile before glancing down at Gabby. "Alright, kiddo, we should probably let Jean rest."

Gabby pouted but nodded seriously. She waved goodbye, Nova's paw mimicking the gesture. "Bye, baby Nate!"

You smiled softly at her excitement. "We'll see you soon, sweetheart."

Gabby nodded, gripping Logan's hand as they started back toward the door. Laura paused briefly, giving Jean a small, genuine smile. "Congratulations," Laura said quietly.

Jean smiled warmly. "Thank you, Laura."

As Logan ushered the girls out, Jean exhaled softly, adjusting Nathaniel carefully in her arms. "This is so surreal. I never thought I'd have a baby—let alone without knowing it."

Scott gently brushed Jean's hair from her face. "We'll figure this out, Jean. One step at a time."

Jean leaned into his touch, comforted. "Yeah, I know."

Ororo glanced toward the door where Logan and the girls had left, smiling softly. "Gabby's excitement is contagious."

You chuckled gently. "It really is."

Jean laughed quietly, clearly exhausted. "She's sweet. Remind me to have Gabby explain babies to Nathaniel someday. I feel like she'd have quite the take."

You smiled gently. "She definitely would."

Jean sighed contentedly, looking down at Nathaniel as he yawned sleepily. "Alright, little guy. Looks like we've got a lot to learn."

You squeezed Jean's hand softly, voice quiet but steady. "We're all here for you, Jean."

She gave you a grateful look, her shoulders relaxing a bit more. "I know. And it means everything."

Scott looked at Jean gently, determination clear in his voice. "We'll handle it together."

She nodded, finally letting herself lean back against the pillow, the baby cradled close. "Together sounds good."

You exhaled softly, glancing around the room—the exhaustion, confusion, surprise, and happiness all mingling together, somehow creating a quiet moment of perfect clarity. You couldn't help but feel incredibly grateful to be here for Jean. "Congratulations," you said softly, meeting Jean's eyes warmly. "Nathaniel's very lucky to have you as his mom."

Jean smiled warmly, her expression softening even further. "And he's lucky to have all of you here too."

Ororo gently squeezed Jean's shoulder, her voice warm and reassuring. "Get some rest. We'll be right here."

Jean nodded slowly, eyes already beginning to flutter closed. "Thank you."

---

A month after Nathaniel was born, Gabby was still asking questions—mostly about where babies came from, how they grew, and how long it took.

One night, as you set the book you had finished reading to Gabby, she blinked her eyes open sleepily. “Mommy? Wa’ I a surprise?”

You paused for a second, setting the book gently aside before turning to face her fully. She was curled up under the covers, Nova tucked tightly into her side. You brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, adjusting your glasses before smiling softly. “Yeah, sweetheart,” you said gently. “You were definitely a surprise.”

Gabby’s sleepy eyes widened slightly. “Like baby Nate?”

You chuckled softly, nodding. “Kind of. But a different kind of surprise.”

Gabby scrunched up her nose, trying to understand. “Diff’rent how?”

You hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out the simplest way to explain it to a four-year-old. “Daddy and I wanted you for a long time, Gabby. A really long time. But for a while, it seemed like it wasn’t going to happen.”

Her expression shifted, curiosity flickering to worry. “Why?”

You took a breath, keeping your voice gentle. “Sometimes, people have trouble having babies. Daddy and I had a hard time. We tried a lot of different things—doctors, medicine, lots of tests—but it just didn’t seem to work. So, after a while, we decided maybe it just wasn’t meant to happen.”

Gabby frowned slightly, thinking it over. “But... then I came?”

You smiled softly, gently brushing your thumb across her cheek. “Yeah. After we stopped trying so hard, after we thought we couldn’t have a baby—you surprised us. Suddenly, you were there, growing inside me, like the universe decided it was finally the right time.”

She was quiet for a moment, clearly taking it all in. Then she nodded seriously. “I picked you.”

Your heart warmed, and you blinked quickly, emotions rising in your chest. “Yeah?”

Gabby nodded again, yawning softly. “Uh-huh. You an’ Daddy needed me. So I picked you.”

You exhaled softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Then I’m really glad you picked us.”

Gabby smiled sleepily, pulling Nova tighter against her chest. Her eyes drifted closed, her breathing already slowing. “Love you, Mommy.”

Your heart felt impossibly full as you brushed another gentle kiss to her cheek. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

Quietly, you stood up, carefully pulling the covers up around her shoulders. She curled into Nova, murmuring softly as sleep finally claimed her. You smiled, quietly stepping into the hallway and softly shutting the door behind you.

You turned around, nearly jumping when you saw Logan leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed loosely over his chest. He watched you quietly, the corners of his mouth pulling into a gentle smirk.

“You gettin’ sentimental, darlin’?”

You smiled shyly, ducking your head a little as you adjusted your glasses. “She asked if she was a surprise.”

Logan’s expression softened further, pushing himself off the wall and stepping closer. “Yeah?”

You nodded, leaning into his side as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “She decided she picked us.”

He huffed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “Well, she’s always been stubborn as hell. Wouldn’t surprise me if she fought the universe until it gave her exactly what she wanted.”

You chuckled softly, relaxing against him. “Sounds about right.”

Logan brushed his thumb lightly against your side, the two of you standing quietly for a moment, simply enjoying each other’s presence. “You okay?” he asked quietly after a moment.

You nodded, smiling softly as you looked up at him. “I’m okay. Just... grateful, I guess.”

Logan squeezed your waist gently, expression soft. “Me too, sweetheart.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, exhaling slowly as you let yourself sink into the warmth of the moment. After a minute, Logan cleared his throat softly. “Jean okay? Gabby still askin’ her questions about Nate?”

You smiled gently, nodding. “She’s fine. Still adjusting to the idea of being a mom. She says Gabby’s actually helping her get used to it.”

Logan smirked softly. “Gabby’s probably givin’ her a crash course.”

You chuckled softly. “Pretty much.”

Logan’s gaze softened, lingering on your face for a moment. “You tired?”

You shook your head softly. “Not really. Why?”

Logan gave a gentle shrug, hand tightening slightly on your waist. “Thought maybe we could just sit for a bit. You know, without Gabby climbin’ all over us.”

You smiled warmly, squeezing his hand gently. “I’d like that.”

Quietly, you walked with Logan toward the living room. The mansion was peaceful, a rare kind of quiet blanketing the halls. Logan sank onto the couch, pulling you gently down beside him. You leaned into his side, resting your head against his shoulder, your glasses slipping slightly down your nose.

“You ever wonder,” Logan began softly after a few moments, voice low, “if it would’ve been different if we’d had Gabby sooner? If one of those treatments had worked the first time around?”

You thought about it, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his hand. “Maybe. But then we wouldn’t have Gabby exactly the way she is. I think…maybe she came exactly when she was supposed to.”

Logan hummed softly in agreement, thumb brushing gently across your knuckles. “Yeah. I think you’re probably right.”

You smiled gently, shifting closer to him. “Either way, I’m glad we got here eventually.”

Logan’s gaze softened further as he tilted his head to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Me too, darlin’.”

You closed your eyes briefly, breathing in the steady comfort of the moment, the quiet around you feeling warm and peaceful. When you opened them again, Logan was watching you, something warm and soft in his expression.

After a quiet moment, Logan spoke softly again. “Still weird to think of Jean havin’ a kid, though. Gabby’s never gonna stop talkin’ about baby Nate.”

You chuckled softly, resting your head against him again. “She really won’t.”

Logan smirked softly, shaking his head. “Between that and all those damn axolotls, she’s keepin’ busy.”

You laughed softly, the tension in your shoulders finally easing fully. “True. But I wouldn’t trade any of it.”

Logan squeezed your shoulder gently, voice warm. “Neither would I.”

You smiled, settling quietly into the couch beside him. The silence stretched around you again, easy and familiar.

Eventually, Logan murmured softly into the quiet, “I’m glad Gabby asked you that question tonight.”

You glanced up at him curiously. “Why?”

He looked down at you, his expression calm and open. “Because sometimes, sweetheart, we all need the reminder that some surprises are worth waitin’ for.”

Your heart warmed, and you leaned up slowly to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Yeah. They really are.”

Logan smiled against your lips, warmth radiating from him as you sank quietly back against him.

And in that quiet moment, with Logan’s steady heartbeat beneath your fingertips and the soft comfort of the mansion around you, you let yourself feel exactly how lucky you were.

---

The end of summer was approaching, and during Labor Day weekend, you and Logan decided to take the girls camping.

Gabby was bouncing excitedly in her car seat, clutching Nova and Bubbles tightly. "How long 'til we're there?"

You smiled softly from the passenger seat, adjusting your glasses as you glanced over your shoulder. "Just a little longer, sweetheart."

Logan's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, his voice steady and patient. "You've asked that four times in ten minutes, Gabby."

Gabby sighed dramatically, resting her head against her Squishmallow. "I wanna put up the tent."

Laura shifted next to her, flipping casually through her comic book. "You mean you wanna watch Dad put up the tent while you sit on a blanket."

Gabby gasped indignantly, leaning forward. "Nuh-uh! I'm gonna help Daddy."

Logan glanced back at Laura briefly. "Both of you can help. Tent's big enough to need extra hands."

Laura shrugged, lips twitching into a slight smirk. "Fine. But I'm not chasing Gabby if she runs off."

Gabby puffed out her chest proudly. "I won't run away! I promise."

You chuckled softly, exchanging an amused glance with Logan. He smirked slightly, shifting one hand onto your knee as he steered with the other. "Alright, princess. We'll see."

The drive was quiet for a few minutes, Gabby humming softly to herself as Laura flipped through pages, occasionally glancing out the window. Soon, Logan turned onto a narrow dirt road, the forest around you growing denser. Gabby sat up straighter, eyes widening as she pressed against her seatbelt. "Are there bears here?" she asked, excitement and caution mingling in her tone.

Logan shrugged calmly, maneuvering carefully around a pothole. "Maybe. But bears don't wanna bother you, Gabby."

She considered this thoughtfully, squeezing Nova tighter. "Okay. I'll tell 'em we're friends."

Laura smirked, not bothering to look up. "Pretty sure that's not how bears work."

Gabby stuck out her tongue at Laura, then leaned forward slightly. "Mommy, will you tell the bears not to eat us?"

You smiled gently, turning toward her again. "Sure, sweetheart. I'll remind them we're nice."

Gabby relaxed, content, as Logan carefully maneuvered into the campground. As soon as the truck stopped, Gabby fumbled to unbuckle herself, already squirming impatiently.

"Wait a sec," Logan instructed gently. "Stay close to Laura while we unload."

Gabby nodded seriously, slipping her hand into Laura's as soon as they climbed out. Laura sighed softly but didn't pull away, letting Gabby tug her toward a small clearing. "Come on, Laura! Look, sticks!" Gabby declared enthusiastically.

Laura raised an eyebrow. "Yep. Those are sticks."

Gabby huffed impatiently, already gathering an armful. "We need 'em for the fire."

Laura glanced over her shoulder at you, silently asking permission. You nodded gently, giving her a soft smile. She relaxed slightly, kneeling beside Gabby to help gather more wood.

Logan was already hauling the tent bag toward the clearing. You moved quietly to help, adjusting your glasses as you unpacked the tent poles. Gabby immediately bounced back toward you both, her little face serious with determination.

"Daddy, what can I do?"

Logan crouched down, handing Gabby one of the smaller tent poles. "Hold onto this, princess. Hand it to me when I ask, alright?"

Gabby nodded eagerly, gripping the pole tightly. You started helping Logan assemble the frame, occasionally glancing up to see Laura carefully arranging sticks into a neat pile near the fire pit.

When the tent was finally upright, Gabby clapped enthusiastically. "It's big! Can we sleep now?"

You laughed softly, ruffling her hair gently. "Not yet, sweetheart. We need to set up inside first."

Gabby sighed dramatically but scrambled into the tent anyway, eagerly spreading out sleeping bags while Nova and Bubbles supervised from a corner. Laura wandered in a moment later, glancing around approvingly.

"At least it's roomy," Laura noted quietly.

Logan smirked slightly, stepping inside. "Yeah, enough room for Gabby and all her plush friends."

Gabby gasped dramatically from where she sat cross-legged. "They need space, Daddy."

You chuckled softly, carefully laying out the pillows and blankets. "Of course they do, sweetheart."

Once the tent was set up and sleeping arrangements were established, Logan began building a fire while you sat with the girls nearby. Gabby leaned close, eyes wide with curiosity. "Mommy, what makes fire burn?"

You smiled gently, adjusting your glasses as you considered how best to simplify it. "Well, sweetheart, fire needs heat, fuel—like the wood—and oxygen to keep burning. When you put them together, they make a chemical reaction."

Gabby's eyes sparkled. "Science magic!"

You laughed softly, gently rubbing her shoulder. "Exactly."

Laura shook her head slightly, smirking. "Everything's science magic with you."

Gabby nodded firmly. "That's 'cause Mommy knows science magic."

Logan glanced over from where he'd carefully arranged the logs. "Your mom knows a lotta stuff."

You flushed softly at his casual praise, ducking your head slightly as you adjusted your glasses again. "It's not magic, just physics."

Gabby hummed happily. "Physics is magic."

Logan chuckled softly, finally getting a spark to catch. The fire crackled gently, orange flames flickering upward. Gabby cheered excitedly, clapping her hands.

"You did it, Daddy!"

Logan settled onto the ground beside you, casually draping an arm over your shoulders. "Couldn't have done it without my assistants."

Gabby beamed proudly. "That's me an' Laura!"

Laura smiled slightly, nudging Gabby gently. "Good job, Gabby."

Gabby smiled sleepily, already leaning heavily into Laura. "Good job, Laura."

The evening settled comfortably around your small family, firelight illuminating each face warmly. You reached quietly for Logan's hand, squeezing gently. He squeezed back, thumb brushing over your knuckles lightly.

Eventually, Gabby's eyes started to drift closed. She snuggled closer to Laura, yawning softly. "I'm sleepy."

Laura gently rubbed Gabby's shoulder. "Come on. Let's get you tucked in."

Gabby mumbled tiredly, hugging Nova tight as she climbed to her feet. "Mommy, Daddy, you comin'?"

You smiled softly, nodding. "We'll be in soon, sweetheart. You go get comfy."

Laura led Gabby into the tent, leaving you and Logan by the dwindling fire. Logan shifted closer to you, pulling you gently into his side. You rested your head on his shoulder, adjusting your glasses with one hand as you watched sparks flicker upward.

"You havin' fun, sweetheart?" Logan asked softly, voice low and warm.

You nodded gently, smiling shyly. "Yeah. It's nice."

Logan pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. "Good."

You closed your eyes briefly, soaking in the warmth and quiet, your shoulders finally fully relaxing. After a few peaceful moments, Logan nudged you gently.

"Think we should check on the girls?" he asked quietly.

You smiled softly, tilting your head up slightly. "Yeah. Gabby's probably waiting."

Logan chuckled quietly, pulling you to your feet as you adjusted your glasses again. You carefully extinguished the remaining embers before following him into the tent.

Inside, Gabby was already curled up beside Laura, half asleep. She peeked up drowsily when she heard you come in, holding Nova out toward Logan.

"Daddy, Nova says g'night."

Logan crouched gently beside her, pressing a careful kiss to her forehead. "Goodnight, princess."

Gabby smiled softly, eyes already fluttering shut again. You leaned down quietly, pressing your own gentle kiss to her cheek. "Sweet dreams, sweetheart."

Laura shifted comfortably, giving you both a small, sleepy nod. "Night."

You smiled softly. "Night, Laura."

Logan carefully settled onto his sleeping bag beside yours, reaching quietly for your hand again as you curled up next to him. You smiled softly in the darkness, your fingers threading comfortably through his.

"Night, Logan," you murmured softly.

He squeezed your hand gently, his voice low and steady. "Night, sweetheart."

---

Thanksgiving—along with all other holidays—were a big thing at the mansion. Which meant a lot of food had to be made. You were in the kitchen making a few pumpkin and apple pies, sleeves pushed up your forearms as you carefully rolled out dough onto the counter. "Laura?" you asked softly, glancing toward the pantry. "Could you grab me some more flour?"

Laura glanced up from where she was mixing cinnamon and sugar, nodding quietly. But before she could move, Gabby popped up from where she'd been arranging apple slices. "I can do it!" she insisted eagerly, her hands already dusted lightly with flour.

You adjusted your glasses, smiling gently. "Are you sure, sweetheart? It's on a higher shelf."

Gabby nodded determinedly, hopping down from her stepstool. "I'm good at reaching. I stretched this morning."

Laura smirked slightly, continuing to stir. "I didn't realize stretching made you taller."

Gabby stopped halfway to the pantry, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully before shrugging. "Maybe it does."

You hid a smile, watching Gabby wander to the pantry door. She stretched onto her tiptoes, managing to grasp the bag of flour on the second shelf. She beamed triumphantly, clutching it tightly in both hands as she waddled carefully back toward you.

"See, Mommy? Told you—"

But just as Gabby lifted the bag to hand it to you, her grip slipped. The heavy flour sack dropped directly to the floor, hitting with an explosive puff of white powder. Flour instantly filled the air, billowing upward like a soft, dry cloud, covering all three of you—and the kitchen—in a thick white layer.

For a second, everything was quiet.

Laura stood completely still, blinking slowly. Gabby's wide eyes stared up at you through white-coated eyelashes, her little mouth forming a shocked 'o'.

"Oh," Gabby whispered softly, looking down at her hands. "Oops."

Laura shook her head slightly, dust falling from her dark hair onto her shoulders. "Gabby."

Gabby gave her sister a sheepish smile. "Um... at least now we have lots of flour?"

You bit your lip, trying—and failing—not to laugh. A quiet giggle slipped out, and you quickly covered your mouth with your flour-dusted hand, only making the mess worse. Gabby glanced back at you, eyes wide with surprise.

"Mommy! You're laughing!"

You took a shaky breath, nodding gently as laughter bubbled from your chest. "Sorry, sweetheart. You just—you look like a little ghost."

Gabby grinned happily, immediately spinning in a small circle. "Ooooh! I'm spooky now!"

Laura rolled her eyes lightly, though a small smile curled her lips. "You're something alright."

Gabby bounced eagerly, sending more flour into the air. "Daddy!" she called loudly toward the hall. "Come see! I'm a ghost!"

A few moments later, Logan stepped into the kitchen doorway, his eyes widening at the sight before him. He slowly crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall as a low chuckle rumbled in his throat.

"Well," Logan drawled slowly, eyes glittering with amusement, "this looks... productive."

Gabby ran toward him, white footprints trailing across the kitchen floor. "Daddy, look! I'm spooky!"

Logan crouched, gently wiping flour from Gabby's cheek with his thumb. "Sure are, princess. How'd ya manage this?"

Gabby giggled softly. "The flour jumped."

Laura raised an eyebrow. "That's not what happened."

Gabby pouted slightly. "It slipped."

Logan smirked softly, straightening up as he glanced toward you. His eyes sparkled playfully as he took in your flour-covered face, his lips pulling into a gentle grin. "You alright there, sweetheart?"

You felt warmth in your cheeks beneath the flour, adjusting your glasses shyly. "Yeah. Just a little... messy."

Logan chuckled softly, stepping closer to brush flour gently from your shoulder. "That's one way to put it."

You ducked your head slightly, smiling sheepishly. "Maybe a little."

Laura shook her head again, trying to dust off her own shirt. "How much longer until dinner?"

Logan glanced around the kitchen, smirking slightly. "Might take a little longer now."

Gabby tugged insistently on his sleeve, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "We can help clean up!"

Logan chuckled softly, gently placing his hand on Gabby's flour-coated head. "Yeah, princess, you're definitely gonna help clean up."

You smiled softly, sighing as you adjusted your glasses again. "Well... at least we have extra flour."

Laura shook her head slightly, but there was a fond smile in her eyes as she started carefully sweeping flour into a pile. "Great. Guess we won't run out anytime soon."

Gabby cheered softly, immediately grabbing a towel. "Cleaning time! Lucky magic cleanup!"

Logan raised an amused eyebrow, nudging you gently with his elbow. "You sure you're up for this?"

You smiled shyly, gently leaning into him. "Yeah. It won't be so bad."

Gabby suddenly glanced up at you both, her eyes wide and hopeful. "Mommy, Daddy? After we clean, can we still have pie?"

Logan chuckled warmly, nodding slowly. "Yeah, princess. After we clean up."

Gabby bounced happily, already wiping the floor with her towel. "Yay! Pie!"

You shook your head fondly, taking a soft breath before you knelt to help Gabby and Laura clean. Logan settled quietly beside you, his arm gently brushing yours as he helped sweep flour into the dustpan.

---

By evening, the kitchen was back in order, the pies had baked perfectly, and the dining hall buzzed with quiet chatter as the mansion gathered for Thanksgiving dinner.

You adjusted your glasses, carefully setting another pumpkin pie onto the dessert table. Gabby bounced impatiently beside you, Nova tucked securely under her arm as she eyed the various sweets laid out in front of her.

"Can I have pie now?" Gabby whispered loudly, tugging insistently at your sleeve.

You smiled gently, brushing a soft hand over her curls. "Dinner first, sweetheart. Pie after."

Gabby pouted dramatically. "That's gonna take forever."

Laura smirked, nudging Gabby softly with her elbow. "Maybe if you don't talk so much during dinner, it'll go faster."

Gabby sighed deeply, clutching Nova tighter. "Fine."

You hid a smile, turning as Jean approached, Nathaniel cradled gently against her chest. She glanced at the pies and raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "I heard about the flour incident," Jean teased gently, eyes twinkling as she shifted Nate carefully.

Your cheeks warmed. "It was... memorable."

Jean chuckled softly, lightly bouncing Nathaniel when he stirred. "Gabby, did you help clean?"

Gabby beamed proudly, nodding vigorously. "I cleaned really good! Daddy said so."

Jean smiled warmly. "I bet he did."

Logan stepped up beside you, slipping an arm gently around your waist. "Yeah, she definitely cleaned up—after she turned the place white."

Jean laughed lightly. "Wish I'd been there to see it."

You smiled softly, nudging your glasses up again. "I'm sure Gabby will happily recreate it for you anytime."

Gabby immediately perked up, eyes bright. "I can, Aunt Jean! Wanna see?"

Logan gently squeezed your waist, his voice a soft rumble. "Maybe later, princess."

Jean shook her head, chuckling quietly as she adjusted Nate again. "I'll hold you to that."

"Jean!" Scott called from the far side of the room, waving her over. "Come on, we saved your seat."

Jean smiled softly, brushing a gentle finger across Nathaniel's cheek. "I'll see you at the table." She turned to Gabby, smiling warmly. "Remember, dinner first—pie after."

Gabby sighed, but nodded obediently. "I know."

Jean laughed softly, moving toward Scott as Logan gently tugged your hand. "Come on, darlin'," he murmured. "Better grab seats before they're all taken."

Laura nudged Gabby gently, gesturing to the tables. "Let's go."

Gabby nodded, skipping eagerly ahead with Laura trailing calmly behind. Logan squeezed your hand lightly, leading you toward your usual spot beside Jean and Scott.

As everyone settled into place, Charles gently raised his hand, signaling everyone to quiet down. Conversations gradually faded, heads turning attentively toward him.

Charles smiled warmly, his voice gentle but clear. "Before we start, I wanted to take a moment to remind us all what we're thankful for—friendship, family, and the chance to share moments like this. It's easy to get lost in our daily responsibilities, so it's important to slow down and appreciate these times." His gaze drifted across the gathered faces, eyes warm and genuine. "Happy Thanksgiving, everyone."

A chorus of soft murmurs echoed in response, smiles shared around the tables. Logan's thumb brushed gently across your knuckles beneath the table, his presence warm and reassuring at your side.

As dinner began, quiet conversations filled the hall again. Gabby eagerly scooped mashed potatoes onto her plate, eyes wide as she carefully added turkey and gravy. "Mommy?" Gabby whispered, leaning close. "Does Nova get Thanksgiving dinner, too?"

You smiled softly, gently brushing her hair back. "Nova doesn't eat, sweetheart."

Gabby tilted her head thoughtfully. "Maybe he eats when we're sleeping."

Laura smirked slightly, shaking her head. "That's definitely not how stuffed animals work."

Gabby huffed softly, pulling Nova protectively into her lap. "Maybe Nova's different."

Logan chuckled softly, reaching quietly to pour you another glass of water. "Let her believe, Laura. Never know."

Gabby smiled triumphantly. "Daddy believes me."

Laura rolled her eyes lightly, but there was a fond softness in her gaze. "Fine."

You glanced around the table, warmth settling comfortably in your chest. Jean rocked Nate gently, her expression content as Scott carefully cut her turkey. Charles chatted animatedly with Ororo, who was laughing softly. Laura helped Gabby carefully cut her food, quietly patient despite Gabby's constant questions.

It felt simple, warm—exactly how Thanksgiving was supposed to be.

Logan leaned close, his voice low and warm by your ear. "You alright, sweetheart?"

You adjusted your glasses, giving him a gentle smile. "Yeah. I'm good."

He brushed a thumb softly along your shoulder, nodding quietly. "Good."

After dinner, Gabby immediately tugged at your sleeve again, bouncing eagerly in her seat. "Pie time, Mommy?"

You chuckled softly, brushing crumbs carefully from her cheek. "Alright, sweetheart."

She cheered softly, immediately hopping from her seat and tugging you toward the dessert table. Logan followed closely, a soft, amused smirk on his lips.

Gabby pointed enthusiastically at the pies. "Pumpkin, please!"

You nodded, gently cutting her a slice. She clutched her plate tightly, eagerly waiting for you and Logan to get your own pieces.

Logan glanced toward Laura, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Pumpkin or apple, Laura?"

Laura considered carefully before answering. "Both."

You smiled softly, handing her a plate with slices of each. "Good choice."

Gabby nodded eagerly, spooning a big bite into her mouth. "Mmm, pie!"

Logan chuckled softly, shaking his head as he took a slow bite of his own. He glanced sideways at you, eyes gentle. "You did good, darlin'."

Warmth rose in your cheeks, and you ducked your head shyly, adjusting your glasses. "Thank you."

Gabby glanced up suddenly, mouth full of pie. "Mommy makes best pies," she said firmly.

Logan nodded, smirking softly. "That she does."

Laura tilted her head, considering carefully before she shrugged slightly. "Yeah, they're pretty good."

You smiled softly, warmth blooming gently in your chest. Logan nudged your shoulder lightly, giving you a gentle look. "Better get yourself a slice, sweetheart, before Gabby eats it all."

Gabby gasped dramatically. "Daddy! I won't!"

Laura smirked, taking another slow bite. "She totally would."

Gabby stuck her tongue out at Laura playfully, and you chuckled softly, finally grabbing yourself a small piece of pumpkin pie. Logan carefully handed you a fork, his fingers brushing yours gently.

You sat quietly beside Logan, eating slowly as gentle conversations filled the dining hall. Gabby happily swung her legs, humming softly as she ate her dessert. Laura quietly observed the room around her, occasionally exchanging amused glances with Gabby.

Eventually, Gabby leaned sleepily against Logan's arm, yawning softly. "I'm tired."

Logan gently smoothed a hand over her hair. "Been a busy day, princess."

She nodded sleepily, eyes drifting closed. Logan carefully lifted her into his arms, her head settling against his shoulder as she immediately cuddled closer. "I'll get her to bed," he murmured softly to you.

You smiled gently, adjusting your glasses. "I'll help Laura clean up."

Laura stood quietly, starting to stack empty plates as Logan carried Gabby out of the hall. Jean approached softly, smiling warmly as she shifted Nate in her arms. "Let me help," Jean said softly, reaching to carefully gather silverware.

You smiled, gently handing her some plates. "Thanks, Jean."

Laura quietly helped you and Jean clear tables, your gentle conversation comfortably filling the quiet space around you. Jean eventually paused, giving you a gentle, genuine smile.

"Today was nice," Jean murmured softly. "I'm glad we could all be here."

You nodded gently, adjusting your glasses. "Me too."

She gently squeezed your shoulder, eyes warm. "Let's finish cleaning up, then relax. Sound good?"

You smiled softly, warmth settling comfortably in your chest as you quietly agreed. "Sounds perfect."

---

“Wait, wha’s that?” Gabby pointed at the green plant in Jubilee’s hand.

Jubilee smiled down at Gabby, wiggling the mistletoe playfully between her fingers. "This is mistletoe. You hang it up during Christmas."

Gabby scrunched her nose thoughtfully, Nova hugged tightly to her chest. "Why?"

Jubilee leaned closer, voice dramatically conspiratorial. "Because whenever two people walk under it together, they're supposed to kiss."

Gabby's eyes widened excitedly, her little mouth forming a delighted ‘o.’ "Really?"

Rogue chuckled quietly from the nearby ladder as she hung up a strand of sparkling lights. "Careful, Jubilee. You're givin' her dangerous ideas."

Gabby turned quickly, tugging Laura's sleeve with wide eyes. "Laura, did you hear that? It's a kissing plant!"

Laura raised an eyebrow calmly, untangling another strand of garland from the box on the floor. "I heard."

Gabby gasped, bouncing on her toes. "We gotta hang it!"

Kitty laughed lightly from her spot at the fireplace mantel, placing a reindeer figurine carefully. "It's tradition. We should hang it somewhere good."

Gabby nodded seriously, her little brows furrowing with determination as she pointed decisively toward the hallway entrance. "There! Everyone walks there."

Jubilee grinned approvingly, carefully handing the mistletoe to Gabby. "Good idea. Want to help me put it up?"

Gabby bounced eagerly, her curls swinging. "Yes!"

Jubilee lifted Gabby up carefully so she could reach the top of the doorframe. Gabby stretched her little arms as high as she could, carefully placing the mistletoe right in the middle. "There," Gabby announced proudly. "Now everyone hasta kiss."

Laura smirked quietly, stepping back to examine the garland she'd arranged on the railing. "Not everyone."

Gabby turned toward her sister, brows knitted in concern. "Why not?"

Laura tilted her head slightly, expression patient. "You have to be under it at the same time as someone else."

Gabby's face relaxed again into excitement, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Then I gotta get Mommy and Daddy."

Rogue raised an amused eyebrow, smiling softly. "Sounds like trouble."

Gabby shook her head firmly. "Nuh-uh. It's romantic."

Jubilee chuckled softly, setting Gabby gently back down. "Well, someone's in the holiday spirit."

Gabby beamed happily, immediately clutching Nova close as she skipped toward Laura again. "Laura, will you help me?"

Laura crossed her arms gently, expression calm but fond. "Help you what?"

Gabby bounced excitedly. "We hafta get Mommy and Daddy under the kiss plant."

Kitty covered her smile with a hand, laughter sparkling in her eyes. "Laura, you have a mission now."

Laura sighed quietly, shaking her head lightly. "I guess."

Gabby cheered softly, squeezing Laura's hand enthusiastically. "Yay! Let's go find 'em!"

Before anyone could say another word, Gabby tugged Laura determinedly down the hall. Laura glanced back at Jubilee, Rogue, and Kitty, shrugging lightly, a small amused smirk on her lips as she let Gabby lead.

In the quiet living room, you were carefully unpacking a box of delicate ornaments, adjusting your glasses gently as you set them out one by one. Logan was kneeling next to you, carefully stringing lights around the base of the tree, his movements quiet and focused.

Gabby's footsteps thundered softly through the hallway, and both you and Logan glanced up curiously just in time to see Gabby skid into the room, Laura following calmly behind.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Gabby gasped, eyes wide with excitement. "We need you!"

You tilted your head gently, smiling at your daughter's flushed face. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Gabby paused dramatically, pointing toward the doorway. "There's somethin' really important you hafta see."

Logan raised an eyebrow, setting down the lights carefully. "Yeah? What's that?"

Gabby nodded vigorously, beckoning urgently with her free hand. "Just c'mon. You'll see."

You exchanged a gentle, curious look with Logan, who smirked slightly as he pushed himself to his feet. He reached down, extending a hand to help you up carefully.

"Alright," Logan said calmly, gently squeezing your hand. "Lead the way, princess."

Gabby immediately grabbed your other hand, tugging you both quickly toward the hallway. Laura followed closely, her expression carefully neutral but the corners of her mouth tugging upward just a bit.

You adjusted your glasses, a small warmth settling in your chest at Gabby's enthusiasm. "What's all this about?"

Gabby stopped abruptly beneath the doorway, letting go of your hand to point dramatically upward. "Look!"

Your eyes followed her finger, cheeks warming slightly when you recognized the mistletoe hanging innocently above you. You ducked your head shyly, biting your lip gently to hide a smile. "Oh," you murmured softly. "I see."

Logan glanced upward, a gentle smirk pulling at his lips. "Mistletoe, huh?"

Gabby nodded eagerly, bouncing on her toes. "Uh-huh. Jubilee says you hafta kiss now!"

Laura quietly leaned against the wall, arms crossed loosely over her chest, watching the whole scene unfold with quiet amusement.

Logan chuckled softly, shifting closer to you, his warm gaze settling gently onto yours. "That so, darlin'?"

You smiled shyly, heart fluttering gently at the quiet affection in his voice. "Apparently."

Gabby tugged gently at Logan's sleeve, eyes wide and earnest. "Daddy, you gotta kiss Mommy. It's romantic."

Logan smirked softly down at Gabby, then gently brushed his fingers along your cheek, tilting your chin up slightly so your eyes met his. "Well, we can't disappoint Gabby, can we?"

Warmth rose higher in your cheeks as Logan leaned in gently, pressing a soft, tender kiss against your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut, savoring the quiet, familiar warmth of his touch, your heartbeat quickening gently in your chest.

Gabby squealed happily, clapping enthusiastically. "Yay! Lucky magic!"

Logan gently pulled back, his gaze warm and soft on your flushed face. His thumb gently brushed your cheekbone, voice low and gentle. "Happy now, princess?"

Gabby nodded, practically vibrating with excitement. "Uh-huh! Now you hafta kiss every time."

Laura smirked quietly, shaking her head lightly. "That's not exactly the rule."

Gabby stuck out her tongue playfully at Laura, clutching Nova tightly again. "I made it a rule."

You laughed softly, adjusting your glasses shyly as you gently squeezed Logan's hand. He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze back, warmth and amusement shining softly in his eyes.

"Well," Logan drawled softly, voice low and amused, "guess that's settled."

Gabby bounced happily, tugging gently on Laura's sleeve again. "Laura, let's go hang more stuff!"

Laura gave Logan and you a gentle nod, letting Gabby lead her away down the hallway again. "See you later."

Logan chuckled softly, watching the girls disappear around the corner before glancing back at you with quiet fondness. "Our daughter's got a real talent for matchmaking."

You smiled, warmth lingering softly in your chest. "Seems like it."

He brushed a gentle thumb over the back of your hand again, quietly drawing you closer to him. "Might hafta keep an eye on her."

You laughed softly, leaning gently into his side, your head resting lightly against his shoulder. "I'm sure she'll find plenty more mischief before Christmas."

Logan pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to your temple, his voice low and warm. "Lookin' forward to it."

Your cheeks warmed gently again, a soft smile pulling at your lips. You quietly reached up to adjust your glasses again, a quiet contentment settling deep in your chest as you simply stood beside Logan beneath the mistletoe, enjoying the comfortable silence.

---

Christmas morning came early at the mansion—especially with Gabby around.

You blinked awake slowly, rubbing your eyes as they adjusted to the dim gray dawn creeping in through the window. You were about to roll over and close your eyes again when you heard the familiar pounding of small feet racing down the hallway.

Seconds later, your bedroom door burst open, and Gabby charged inside, Nova clutched tightly under one arm.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Gabby shouted, bouncing enthusiastically at the foot of the bed. "Santa came!"

Logan groaned softly from beside you, dragging a tired hand down his face. He glanced over at Gabby, eyes barely open. "Kid, it's still dark."

Gabby gasped dramatically, clambering onto the bed to crawl between the two of you. "But it's Christmas! Laura said so."

You gently reached out, brushing Gabby's hair away from her excited eyes. "Laura awake already?"

Gabby nodded vigorously, bouncing in place. "Uh-huh. She's downstairs. Come on!"

Logan sighed, rubbing a rough hand over his eyes as he sat up slowly. He gave you a sideways glance, smirking gently. "Guess we're gettin' up."

You smiled softly, carefully slipping out of bed and reaching for your robe and glasses. "Wouldn't want to keep Santa waiting."

Gabby cheered, hopping off the bed and grabbing Logan’s hand to tug him toward the door impatiently. "Daddy, hurry!"

Logan chuckled softly, following her reluctantly out into the hallway, while you quietly slipped your robe on, padding after them.

Downstairs, the living room glowed softly with the gentle lights of the Christmas tree. Laura was already there, curled up quietly on the sofa, flipping through a comic book as she waited. She glanced up as you all entered, a small amused smirk pulling at her lips.

"Gabby woke you up?" Laura asked dryly, carefully setting her comic aside.

Logan grunted softly, sinking onto the couch beside Laura with a tired sigh. "Yeah. Still dark out."

Gabby ignored them both, bounding eagerly toward the tree. Her eyes sparkled brightly as she scanned the pile of carefully wrapped presents beneath its branches. "Look how many there are!"

You settled gently onto the couch beside Logan, adjusting your glasses as you watched Gabby's excitement. "Santa must've known you and Laura were extra good this year."

Gabby beamed proudly, immediately grabbing a wrapped package and carrying it carefully toward Laura. "Laura, open yours first!"

Laura smiled softly, accepting the present gently. "Alright."

Gabby hopped impatiently from foot to foot, eyes wide with anticipation as Laura carefully tore the paper away, revealing a set of beautifully bound comic books she'd been talking about for months.

Laura's eyes lit up quietly, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. "These are perfect. Thanks."

Gabby clapped enthusiastically. "Santa knew!"

You smiled warmly at the girls, warmth blossoming in your chest at the happiness on Laura's face. Logan glanced at you quietly, gently reaching over to squeeze your hand softly. You squeezed back shyly, contentment easing through you at the quiet moment.

"Mommy, Daddy!" Gabby chirped, already reaching for another gift. "You hafta open yours too."

Logan smirked softly, leaning back comfortably. "Alright, princess. We'll open ours."

Gabby carefully handed each of you a present, bouncing eagerly as you opened them. Logan revealed a beautifully crafted leather-bound journal, the front etched with an intricate forest design.

You unwrapped yours slowly, adjusting your glasses as you held up a delicate silver necklace, the small charm engraved with your initials. Gabby bounced excitedly again, her voice proud.

"I picked those!" she announced. "Laura helped."

Laura gave a small nod, lips quirking upward slightly. "Mostly Gabby."

You smiled softly, warmth pooling gently in your chest. "They're wonderful. Thank you, girls."

Logan gently ran a thumb over the cover of his journal, a genuine smile softening his features. "Perfect, princess. Thanks."

Gabby beamed proudly, spinning to dig through the presents again, eagerly handing another box to Laura before sitting down and tearing into one of her own.

You quietly watched Gabby's delighted expression as she uncovered a brightly colored science kit, her eyes widening in awe.

"Mommy!" Gabby gasped, waving the box excitedly. "Look! Now I can do science magic too!"

You chuckled softly, adjusting your glasses fondly. "You'll be a natural, sweetheart."

Laura quietly admired her new sketchbook set, carefully flipping through the blank pages as a gentle smile pulled at her lips. Logan shifted closer to you on the couch, casually draping his arm around your shoulders.

Gabby suddenly jumped to her feet again, grabbing another box and carrying it quickly toward Logan. "Daddy, this one's extra special!"

Logan raised an eyebrow curiously, accepting the box carefully. "Yeah? How so?"

Gabby nodded seriously, eyes wide and earnest. "Open it!"

Logan carefully tore off the paper, revealing a plain wooden frame. He turned it around, his expression quietly softening as he took in the photograph inside—a simple candid of the four of you from your camping trip, Gabby grinning widely, Laura rolling her eyes fondly, you smiling at Logan’s side.

Logan exhaled quietly, warmth softening his gaze. "It's perfect, Gabby."

Gabby beamed happily, proudly clutching Nova tightly. "It's family magic."

Laura smirked quietly, setting her sketchbook gently aside. "Family magic?"

Gabby nodded seriously, settling beside Laura again. "Uh-huh. Mommy has science magic, Daddy has strong magic, Laura has brave magic, an' I have lucky magic. Together, we have family magic."

You felt your chest tighten gently, warmth spreading softly beneath your ribs as Logan quietly squeezed your shoulder, his voice low and rough. "She's not wrong."

You smiled shyly, adjusting your glasses again as you watched the quiet happiness on Gabby and Laura's faces. "No, she's not."

Gabby suddenly glanced toward the window, her eyes widening as she noticed snow gently drifting outside. "It's snowing!"

Laura stood up carefully, moving toward the window to look outside. "First snow."

Gabby immediately jumped to her feet, bouncing excitedly. "We hafta go outside!"

Logan sighed, giving you a gently amused glance as he pushed himself to his feet. "Kid never runs outta energy."

You smiled softly, reaching up to adjust your glasses again as you stood as well. "Not on Christmas."

Gabby tugged insistently on Laura's sleeve, already pulling her toward the stairs. "We need coats an' gloves an' hats!"

Laura allowed herself to be pulled along, shaking her head gently. "Alright, alright."

Logan gently caught your hand, pulling you closer as the girls disappeared down the hallway again. "Guess we're gettin' bundled up, huh?"

You smiled shyly, heart fluttering gently as you leaned slightly into his side. "Wouldn't be Christmas otherwise."

Logan chuckled softly, voice warm and quiet as he brushed a gentle thumb across your cheek. "You ready?"

You nodded gently, warmth blossoming softly in your chest. "Yeah."

He smirked gently, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Then let's go."

A short while later, the four of you stood bundled up outside in the freshly fallen snow. Gabby immediately raced toward the snow-covered yard, laughing joyfully as she spun and twirled, snowflakes catching gently in her curls.

Laura watched calmly for a moment before a small smile tugged at her lips. She scooped up a handful of snow, casually forming it into a snowball before tossing it playfully at Gabby's back.

Gabby gasped dramatically, turning around with wide eyes. "Laura!"

Laura shrugged lightly, an amused smirk on her face. "Oops."

Gabby quickly gathered her own snowball, flinging it toward Laura, who easily dodged, laughter dancing in her eyes. Soon, the girls were chasing each other around the yard, their giggles ringing clearly through the crisp winter air.

You stood quietly beside Logan, watching your daughters play with soft warmth filling your chest. Logan gently wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you gently closer to his side. "You cold, darlin'?" he asked softly, voice a warm rumble by your ear.

You shook your head softly, smiling as you adjusted your glasses again. "No, I'm alright."

Logan gently brushed snow from your shoulder, quiet fondness in his gaze. "Good."

Gabby suddenly bounded toward you both again, tugging eagerly at Logan's coat. "Daddy, come play!"

Logan sighed gently, smirking softly down at her pleading expression. "Guess I'm bein' recruited."

Gabby nodded seriously. "Uh-huh. Mommy too!"

You smiled, warmth blossoming in your chest as Logan gently squeezed your hand again. "Alright, baby."

Gabby cheered happily, quickly tugging both you and Logan into the yard where Laura stood waiting calmly, already holding another snowball.

The morning drifted into a blur of laughter and snowball fights, snow angels, and gentle snowfall. Eventually, when Gabby's cheeks were flushed red and Laura was smiling more openly than usual, the four of you returned inside, shedding snowy coats and boots by the door.

As Gabby curled up sleepily by the fire, her head resting gently on Laura's shoulder, you quietly sank onto the sofa beside Logan, adjusting your glasses as your tired muscles relaxed.

Logan gently brushed his fingers along your shoulder, quietly pulling you into his side. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

You smiled softly, leaning your head gently against his shoulder, eyes drifting briefly closed. "Merry Christmas."

Gabby's soft, sleepy voice drifted quietly through the comfortable silence. "Lucky family magic."

You smiled again, warmth gently filling your chest as Logan quietly squeezed your hand. "Yeah, sweetheart," you murmured softly. "Lucky family magic."

---

Gabby sat at the common room table, two clear cups in front of her, one with citric acid and the other with a baking soda solution. She read the instruction manual before pouring some of the indicator into the citric acid cup, watching the solution turn red.

"Whoa," Gabby breathed, her eyes wide and sparkling. She leaned closer, her small hands pressed eagerly against the edge of the table. "It turned red!"

"That's right," you smiled gently, adjusting your glasses as you sat beside her. "That means it's acidic."

Gabby nodded seriously, quickly consulting her little instruction book again. She moved to the second cup, carefully adding the indicator to the baking soda solution. Her eyes brightened even more as the liquid turned a deep shade of blue.

"Look! Mommy, this one's blue!" Gabby exclaimed, bouncing slightly in her chair. "That means it's—it's—basic!"

"Exactly," you praised softly, reaching out to gently smooth her curls from her forehead. "Great job, sweetheart."

Laura looked up briefly from her comic, watching quietly from her spot on the sofa. Logan sat close by, his arms folded loosely over his chest, silently observing Gabby with quiet amusement.

Suddenly, Gabby's gaze shot across the room to where Charles was seated, reading quietly by the fireplace. "Grandpa! Come look!"

Charles looked up from his book, a warm smile immediately brightening his expression as he set it aside. He maneuvered his wheelchair smoothly across the room to join Gabby at the table. "Well now," Charles said, leaning slightly forward to better see Gabby's experiment, "what have you discovered, Gabby?"

Gabby beamed proudly, gesturing dramatically at the two cups. "This one," she declared, pointing at the citric acid, "turned red, 'cause it's acidic." She paused for effect, looking up at him eagerly. "And the other one turned blue, 'cause it's basic."

Charles' smile widened, genuine warmth and delight in his eyes. "That's excellent, Gabby. You're quite the scientist."

Gabby bounced excitedly, holding up the small vial of purple liquid. "The instruction book says this is an indicator. That means it tells you stuff!"

Charles chuckled warmly, nodding slowly. "Exactly right. An indicator helps us understand the properties of solutions we can't see otherwise."

Gabby leaned closer conspiratorially, eyes sparkling. "Mommy says that's science magic."

"Did she now?" Charles glanced over at you, eyes gently amused.

You felt your cheeks warm slightly and ducked your head, adjusting your glasses. "That's just how I explained it."

"Well," Charles said softly, turning back to Gabby, "it certainly is rather magical, isn't it?"

Gabby nodded enthusiastically, gripping Nova tightly in one arm as she returned her attention to the table. "Wanna watch me mix 'em together now?"

Charles smiled warmly, eyes twinkling. "Absolutely."

Gabby took a deep breath, carefully pouring some of the red solution into the cup containing the blue solution. She watched with wide eyes, gasping softly when the color shifted dramatically to a vivid purple.

"Wow," Gabby whispered reverently. "It changed again!"

You chuckled softly, gently rubbing Gabby's shoulder. "That's called neutralization, sweetheart. The acid and base balance each other out."

Gabby's face scrunched thoughtfully as she processed your words, then quickly turned to Charles again. "Grandpa, that's like teamwork, right?"

Charles smiled fondly, nodding gently. "Precisely, Gabby. Very well put."

Gabby grinned brightly, clearly delighted by the praise. "I'm gonna be a scientist like Mommy."

Logan shifted quietly on the sofa, a gentle smirk tugging at his lips. "Sounds like you're already halfway there, Gabby."

Gabby spun quickly to face Logan, eyes serious. "Only halfway?"

He chuckled softly, leaning forward slightly. "Takes a lot of practice and experiments, princess. You're just gettin' started."

Gabby considered this carefully, nodding thoughtfully. "Then I'll practice lots more."

Laura glanced over calmly, voice quiet. "You might need more science kits."

Gabby gasped excitedly, spinning back toward Charles. "Can I have more science kits?"

Charles smiled gently, clearly amused. "I believe that can be arranged."

Gabby cheered softly, bouncing slightly in her seat. "Lucky magic science."

Logan shook his head lightly, eyes warm with quiet amusement. "Everythin's lucky magic to you, kid."

Gabby nodded firmly, hugging Nova tighter. "Uh-huh, 'cause magic's special."

You smiled softly, gently smoothing your hand over Gabby's curls. "Can't argue with that."

Jean entered the common room quietly, Nathaniel sleeping comfortably in her arms. She paused beside Charles, glancing curiously at Gabby's setup on the table. "Looks like quite the experiment. Did you learn something new, Gabby?"

Gabby nodded excitedly, immediately gesturing at the cups again. "I learned about acids and bases and—and neutral—neutralizing!" She glanced quickly up at you for confirmation.

"Neutralization," you corrected gently, smiling encouragingly.

Gabby nodded vigorously. "That."

Jean smiled warmly, adjusting Nate slightly in her arms. "I'm impressed."

Gabby beamed proudly, gently swinging her feet. "Grandpa says I'm a scientist."

Charles chuckled softly, his eyes fond as he glanced toward Jean. "She's a natural."

Jean nodded in agreement, giving Gabby a gentle smile. "Clearly."

Logan stood quietly, crossing to stand beside you, his hand lightly resting against your lower back. He leaned slightly closer, his voice low and amused. "She's gonna want a whole lab soon."

You smiled shyly, leaning slightly into his touch. "I'd happily share mine."

Gabby looked up, eyes wide with excitement. "Really, Mommy?"

You chuckled softly, adjusting your glasses again. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll do more experiments together soon."

Gabby cheered softly, hugging Nova tighter. "Best mommy ever."

Logan gently squeezed your waist, voice warm beside your ear. "She ain't wrong."

You flushed softly, ducking your head slightly with a shy smile. Across from you, Jean met your gaze with warm amusement.

"Well," Jean said softly, her voice gentle, "maybe Gabby can teach Nate about science magic when he's older."

Gabby's eyes sparkled immediately, her small chest puffing proudly. "Uh-huh! I'll teach him all about acids and bases and—and everything."

Laura smirked gently from the couch. "Careful, Gabby. He might not be as good at science magic as you."

Gabby shook her head firmly, smiling confidently. "I'll teach him real good."

Jean chuckled softly, eyes warm. "I have no doubt."

Gabby returned her attention to her little experiment kit, carefully cleaning up the cups and supplies with exaggerated care. Charles gently maneuvered back toward his book, giving you and Logan a soft, warm smile.

"You both have a very special daughter," he said gently, warmth filling his eyes.

Logan's gaze softened slightly, a gentle smirk pulling at his lips as he glanced down at Gabby. "Yeah, Chuck. We know."

You quietly adjusted your glasses, shy warmth blossoming softly in your chest as Gabby hummed happily, completely absorbed in carefully putting away her experiment.

"Mommy?" Gabby glanced up suddenly, eyes serious. "Can we do physics magic next?"

You smiled softly, gently brushing her cheek with your thumb. "Anytime, sweetheart."

Gabby nodded seriously, completely satisfied as she closed up her science kit. "Okay. Physics magic next."

Laura watched quietly from her spot, a small, fond smile pulling gently at her lips.

Logan squeezed your waist softly again, his thumb brushing gently against your side as Gabby returned to her humming, Nova still clutched tightly to her chest.

In the comfortable silence that settled over the common room, Jean caught your gaze once more, giving you a gentle, understanding smile. You felt your own smile widen shyly in return.

Quietly, you settled comfortably against Logan's side, contentment gently warming your chest as you watched Gabby happily finish packing her experiment away, her eyes bright and eager with endless curiosity.

---

As the day passed, Logan’s headache grew worse. Ororo had told him to get more sunlight, practically dragging him along with her as they walked through the blooming gardens. Jean gave him a high-dose painkiller and told him to take it easy. Scott told him to ‘man up.’

He sat on the couch, head tilted backwards. Gabby came rushing into the common room, her sundress billowing as she came to an abrupt stop in front of him. “Daddy, Laura said you were bein’ slow.”

Logan sighed, cracking one eye open slowly to look down at Gabby, who stood impatiently, hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Did she now?" Logan asked tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ease the pounding in his head.

Gabby nodded earnestly, curls bouncing around her face. "Uh-huh. She said you're bein' super slow an' grumpy." She paused, eyes widening. "Are you grumpy, Daddy?"

Logan exhaled slowly, trying to bite back a smile. "I got a headache, kid. I ain't grumpy."

Gabby frowned slightly, reaching out to gently pat his knee with a tiny hand. "Is it a bad headache?"

"Yeah," Logan grumbled softly. "Real bad."

Gabby's expression grew serious, brows knitting tightly. "Did you take medicine?"

Logan nodded carefully, leaning his head back again. "Jean already gave me somethin'."

Gabby considered this for a moment before quickly spinning on her heel and darting across the common room toward the sofa where you sat curled comfortably, flipping quietly through a physics journal. Gabby tugged insistently at your sleeve, her voice hushed but urgent.

"Mommy," Gabby whispered loudly, her eyes wide. "Daddy's head hurts real bad."

You glanced up immediately, concern knitting your brow as you adjusted your glasses. "He told Jean?"

Gabby nodded quickly. "Uh-huh. Aunt Jean gave him medicine but it didn’t work good."

You closed your journal carefully, setting it aside and standing up. Gabby eagerly took your hand, tugging you insistently across the room. Logan cracked one eye open again, watching quietly as you approached.

"You told Gabby about your headache?" you asked gently, lips quirking slightly in amusement.

Logan groaned softly, shaking his head carefully. "Didn't have much of a choice. Kid’s real persistent."

Gabby nodded proudly, hands clasped tightly in front of her. "Uh-huh! I'm 'sistent."

You smiled softly at Gabby, warmth flickering in your chest before gently brushing your fingers through Logan's hair. "Still hurting a lot?"

He closed his eyes again, quietly exhaling. "Yeah."

You glanced back toward Gabby softly. "Sweetheart, would you mind grabbing Daddy some water?"

Gabby immediately brightened at the important task, nodding eagerly before racing off toward the kitchen. Logan let out another quiet breath, leaning slightly into your touch.

You gently smoothed his hair back again, voice low and tender. "Maybe you should lie down in the bedroom."

Logan shook his head gently. "Rather stay here."

You brushed your thumb softly across his temple, concern deepening in your voice. "Is it a migraine?"

Logan sighed, clearly frustrated. "Dunno. Damn thing won't quit."

You hesitated for a moment, eyes flicking briefly toward the clock. "If it doesn’t ease up soon, maybe Hank should take a look?"

He gave you a slight, reluctant nod. "Yeah. We'll see."

Before you could respond further, Gabby hurried back into the room, holding a slightly-too-full glass of water very carefully between her small hands. She slowed down dramatically as she approached, eyes fixed in concentration on not spilling a single drop.

"Here," Gabby whispered loudly, carefully passing Logan the glass. "Drink it slow, Daddy."

Logan opened his eyes fully, giving Gabby a small, gentle smile. "Thanks, princess."

Gabby beamed proudly, rocking slightly on her heels. "You're welcome!"

Logan took a small sip, careful not to spill, before setting the glass down gently on the side table. Gabby immediately leaned closer, expression serious and determined.

"Maybe Mommy should do time magic on your head," Gabby suggested brightly. "An' then your head can go backwards to before it hurt."

Laura, still sitting on the opposite couch, quietly flipped a page of her comic. "Pretty sure that's not how it works."

Gabby shot her a stubborn look. "Maybe it can."

You smiled softly, crouching gently beside Gabby. "Sweetheart, my powers don't quite work like that. Remember?"

Gabby’s mouth puckered thoughtfully, eyes narrowing slightly. "But it's magic."

"It's physics magic," you corrected gently, giving her a gentle tap on the nose with your finger. "Not headache magic."

Gabby pouted slightly, glancing back at Logan with disappointment. "Sorry, Daddy."

Logan chuckled softly, despite the ache throbbing behind his temples. "That's alright, princess. You tried."

Gabby suddenly brightened again, eyes wide. "Wait! Maybe Daddy needs cold stuff. One time Laura put ice on her head when she got hurt!"

Laura looked up again, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Because I hit my head. It's not the same thing."

Gabby huffed impatiently, already turning toward the kitchen. "I'm gonna get ice!"

You quickly caught Gabby's arm gently, slowing her down. "I'll get the ice, sweetheart. You stay here with Daddy, okay?"

Gabby nodded eagerly, immediately scrambling onto the couch next to Logan and pressing herself carefully into his side. "I'll take care of Daddy 'til you're back, Mommy."

You smiled warmly, adjusting your glasses as you straightened again. "Thank you, sweetheart. Be right back."

Gabby immediately rested her head carefully against Logan’s arm, hugging Nova tightly to her chest. She looked up at Logan with big, earnest eyes. "Daddy, I can sing you a song if it helps?"

Logan blinked down at her, a slight smirk tugging gently at his lips despite his headache. "Sure, kid."

Gabby inhaled dramatically, carefully clearing her throat before launching into a quiet, slightly off-key version of a lullaby you'd sung to her since she was little. Logan’s expression softened quietly, one of his hands gently smoothing down her hair as she sang.

Laura observed silently from across the room, lips quirking slightly into a small, fond smile before turning her attention back to her comic.

You returned a moment later, holding a carefully wrapped ice pack. Gabby immediately stopped singing, eyes brightening. "Mommy! Did you hear me singin'?"

You smiled gently, warmth flickering softly in your chest as you handed Logan the ice pack. "I did. It was lovely."

Gabby beamed proudly, hugging Nova tighter as she watched Logan gently place the ice pack against his forehead with a quiet sigh of relief.

"You need anythin' else?" you murmured softly, sitting quietly next to Logan, your hand gently settling on his thigh.

Logan leaned slightly into your touch, eyes drifting briefly shut again. "Just this. 'M fine now, sweetheart."

You relaxed softly, gently brushing your thumb back and forth over his leg as Gabby carefully curled closer into Logan's side. "You can rest now, Daddy," Gabby whispered softly, carefully patting his arm. "I'll be quiet."

Logan cracked one eye open again, lips tugging gently upward. "Thanks, princess. Appreciate it."

Gabby nodded seriously, dramatically pressing a finger to her lips. "Shhh."

Laura quietly flipped another page of her comic, raising an eyebrow at Gabby’s theatrics, but she didn't comment.

You smiled softly, heart fluttering gently at the sight of Logan and Gabby cuddled together quietly. Gently adjusting your glasses, you leaned back carefully into the couch cushions, your body relaxing softly as you watched Logan’s breathing grow steadier, the lines of tension slowly easing from his brow.

Gabby quietly shifted to rest her head gently against Logan's chest, humming softly to herself as she carefully cradled Nova in her arms. Her tiny hand gently patted Logan's side in a soothing rhythm, as though silently encouraging his headache to fade away.

Laura glanced up briefly, meeting your gaze across the room with quiet amusement, the corners of her mouth tugging upward slightly again. You smiled in return, letting your head tip gently to rest against Logan’s shoulder.

The common room gradually settled into gentle quiet, broken only by Gabby's soft humming and Logan's quiet breaths. You let yourself relax fully, eyes drifting softly shut as your thumb continued its slow, soothing motion against Logan's leg.

---

A few hours passed quietly. Gabby had long since woken up from her nap, now upstairs with Laura, probably absorbed in some activity that would keep her attention well into the evening. Logan, meanwhile, remained in a deep, exhausted sleep, his head still resting back on the sofa cushion, the ice pack—which had long since lost its chill—resting forgotten beside him.

You closed the textbook you'd been leafing through and glanced at the clock, biting your lip softly as you adjusted your glasses. Logan had slept for a good while—probably long enough that he should try to eat something, maybe take a second dose of medication. Careful not to startle him too abruptly, you leaned forward slightly, gently placing your hand on his shoulder.

"Logan?" you murmured softly, giving him a careful shake. "Hey, honey. You should wake up for a bit."

He groaned lowly, stirring slowly and blinking bleary eyes open. He squinted at you, brows knitted together, clearly disoriented. "'M awake," he rasped, voice gravelly and thick with sleep.

You smiled gently, rubbing his shoulder in slow, comforting circles. "Think you can eat something?"

He rubbed a rough hand down his face, exhaling heavily before giving you a reluctant nod. "Yeah, guess so."

"Good," you said softly, gently squeezing his shoulder. "Wait here. I'll bring you something."

You stood and moved toward the kitchen, carefully assembling a small, simple plate—a sandwich, a few crackers, something easy on his stomach. As you returned to the common room, Logan had managed to sit up properly, elbows resting tiredly on his knees, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Still bad?" you asked quietly, setting the plate carefully beside him.

Logan sighed, dropping his hand with a weary grunt. "Better than before. Still poundin', though."

You hummed softly in sympathy, gently touching his forehead, carefully checking to see if he felt feverish. He didn't—at least that was a relief. "Try to eat a little," you urged softly. "Then we'll get you upstairs and you can have another dose of medicine."

He nodded again, obediently picking up the sandwich with a resigned sigh, slowly chewing, his eyes half-lidded. You sat quietly beside him, fingers brushing comfortingly over his back. Logan glanced sideways at you, mouth quirked into a slight, tired smirk. "Been hoverin' all day, sweetheart."

Your cheeks warmed, but you held his gaze, smiling softly. "Maybe you needed it."

He huffed quietly, shaking his head before finishing off the sandwich with a final reluctant bite. "'Spose I did."

Once the plate was empty, you stood carefully, holding out your hand. "Come on. Let's get you upstairs."

Logan exhaled slowly, clearly reluctant to move, but he eventually reached up, wrapping strong, rough fingers around your hand as he let you tug him to his feet. He wobbled slightly for a second, placing a hand against your waist to steady himself.

"You alright?" you asked quickly, concern flickering through your chest.

"Yeah," he mumbled gruffly, shaking his head slightly to clear the lingering dizziness. "Just stood up too fast."

Carefully, you guided him toward the stairs, your hand gently resting against his lower back as you ascended slowly. Logan's steps were slow and heavy, exhaustion still clearly weighing him down. By the time you reached your bedroom, he sank gratefully onto the edge of the mattress, head hanging forward with a quiet groan.

You moved silently to the bedside drawer, retrieving the bottle Jean had left earlier. Shaking out the correct dose, you sat beside him again, gently nudging his shoulder.

"Here," you whispered softly, pressing the pills into his palm.

He swallowed them dry without hesitation, sighing as he rubbed the back of his neck. You stood again, slipping into the bathroom to fill a glass of water, returning to hold it out gently.

"Drink a little," you said quietly, carefully smoothing your thumb over his hand as he took a slow sip.

Logan set the glass aside with another tired sigh, carefully kicking off his boots before easing back against the pillows. You watched him quietly, adjusting your glasses as you bit your lip again, concerned.

"Stay," he muttered, eyes already drifting closed as he reached blindly toward you.

Your heart fluttered warmly as you slipped carefully into bed beside him, settling down close enough to feel his warmth through your shirt. Logan’s arm draped heavily around your waist, tugging you gently closer until you lay comfortably curled into his side.

"Head still hurting?" you whispered softly, carefully tracing gentle circles against his chest.

He hummed lowly, the sound vibrating gently beneath your fingertips. "Bit," he admitted quietly. "But better."

"Good," you murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder. "Rest now."

Logan exhaled softly, clearly relaxing deeper against the mattress. His breathing gradually evened out, the tension easing gently from his muscles as you remained pressed softly to his side. You quietly adjusted your glasses again, content to simply remain close, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your palm.

After a long moment of silence, Logan spoke again quietly, voice low and gruff. "Thanks, darlin'. For takin' care of me."

Your lips curled gently into a shy, tender smile. "Always."

Logan squeezed your waist softly, thumb gently brushing your side again before finally drifting off into a restful sleep. You remained curled gently against him, watching the quiet rise and fall of his chest, contentment softly settling deep in your bones as you kept silent watch over him, just as he'd always done for you.

i had too many thoughts and things to say about the end of this series, so here's a separate post!

[momochanners]

It’s Dance Dance Fall In Love O’clock in here!

Dear Teach Chapter 4 Page 6-8 over at my Patreon

[caitlinclark]

"It's not easy, I left my number 9 at Barça and I take the 8, which has always been my favorite number and is my number in the National Team. I'm leaving my comfort zone. I signed for two seasons, with an option for a third season and… of course I felt strange the first time I put on Arsenal's jersey, and the day the National Team players went back to Barça and I didn't, but it's time to focus on the future. New chapter, new illusions, new goals and with great motivation to help my new club achieve its goal of fighting and winning titles, to position Arsenal among the biggest leaders in Europe in the immediate future." - Mariona in her book "Mariona Caldentey: How we changed history".