#secure data handling

[golden42]

Vegan Meal Planning Guide & Tips with GlucoTrust

In today's world, embracing a vegan lifestyle is more than just a trend—it's a commitment to health, the environment, and ethical living. Whether you're new to veganism or a seasoned plant-based eater, meal planning can be a game-changer in maintaining a balanced diet. As we dive into this guide, I'll provide you with essential tips and insights to make vegan meal planning both effective and enjoyable.

Key Takeaways

Vegan diets are linked to improved heart health and weight management.

Common vegan challenges include nutritional deficiencies which can be managed with proper planning.

Essential vegan staples include whole grains, legumes, nuts, and a variety of fruits and vegetables.

Effective meal planning involves creating balanced meals, batch cooking, and proper storage techniques.

Incorporating supplements like GlucoTrust can support overall health and manage blood sugar levels.

Vegan Meal Planning 101

Vegan meal planning is all about ensuring you get a variety of nutrients from plant-based sources. It's not just about eliminating animal products; it's about embracing a wide array of foods that provide essential vitamins and minerals.

Benefits of a Vegan Lifestyle

Adopting a vegan lifestyle offers numerous benefits, not only for your health but also for the planet. Studies show that a vegan diet can lead to lower cholesterol levels, reduced risk of heart disease, and better weight management.

"A well-planned vegan diet is rich in fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and legumes, providing ample fiber, antioxidants, and phytonutrients." - Nutrition Expert

Besides health benefits, veganism is also an ethical choice that reduces animal suffering and environmental impact. By choosing plant-based foods, you contribute to a more sustainable world.

Overcoming Common Vegan Challenges

While veganism has its perks, it also comes with challenges, particularly regarding nutritional intake. Some common concerns include getting enough protein, vitamin B12, iron, and omega-3 fatty acids.

To overcome these challenges, it's crucial to diversify your food choices. Incorporate a variety of legumes, nuts, seeds, and fortified foods to meet your nutritional needs. Additionally, consider supplements for nutrients that are harder to obtain from a vegan diet.

Essential Vegan Staples for Every Kitchen

Stocking your kitchen with the right ingredients is the first step towards successful vegan meal planning. Here are some essentials to keep on hand:

Whole grains: quinoa, brown rice, oats

Legumes: lentils, chickpeas, black beans

Nuts and seeds: almonds, chia seeds, flaxseeds

Fruits and vegetables: leafy greens, berries, avocados

Plant-based proteins: tofu, tempeh, seitan

Strategies for Effective Vegan Meal Planning

With the right strategies, vegan meal planning can be straightforward and rewarding. Here are some tips to get you started:

Creating a Balanced Meal Plan

A balanced meal plan ensures you get all the nutrients your body needs. Aim to include a variety of food groups in each meal. For instance, a typical plate could include:

A serving of whole grains

A portion of plant-based protein

A generous helping of vegetables

Healthy fats from nuts or avocados

Remember, balance is key. By diversifying your meals, you not only enjoy a range of flavors but also cover your nutritional bases.

How to Build a Weekly Vegan Menu

Building a weekly menu helps streamline your grocery shopping and meal prep. Start by planning your meals around seasonal produce, which is often fresher and more affordable. Consider these steps:

Choose a theme for each day (e.g., Taco Tuesday, Stir-fry Saturday).

Include a variety of cuisines to keep meals exciting.

Plan for leftovers to save time and reduce waste.

With a clear menu, you'll find it easier to stick to your vegan diet and enjoy every meal.

What is GlucoTrust?

GlucoTrust is a natural supplement designed to support healthy blood sugar levels. It's crafted from a blend of ingredients known for their ability to enhance glucose metabolism and improve overall well-being. This supplement can be especially beneficial for those on a vegan diet, as it helps address some common nutritional gaps.

One of the standout features of GlucoTrust is its plant-based formulation, which aligns perfectly with vegan principles. It contains a mix of herbs and nutrients that work together to stabilize blood sugar, thereby supporting energy levels and reducing cravings.

Benefits of GlucoTrust for Vegan Diets

Integrating GlucoTrust into a vegan diet can offer several advantages. Firstly, it helps maintain steady blood sugar levels, which is crucial for preventing energy crashes and managing weight. This is particularly important for vegans, as plant-based diets can sometimes lead to fluctuations in blood sugar due to the high carbohydrate content of many vegan foods.

Furthermore, GlucoTrust provides essential nutrients that might be lacking in a typical vegan diet. For instance, chromium, one of its key components, plays a vital role in insulin function and glucose metabolism. By ensuring adequate intake of such nutrients, GlucoTrust supports overall metabolic health and well-being.

Integrating GlucoTrust into Daily Meals

Incorporating GlucoTrust into your daily routine is straightforward. It's recommended to take it with meals to enhance its effectiveness. You can simply add it to your morning smoothie or take it alongside your breakfast to kickstart your day with balanced energy levels.

Shopping Tips for Vegan Meal Planning

Shopping for vegan meals doesn't have to be complicated or expensive. With the right strategies, you can fill your pantry with nutritious ingredients without breaking the bank. Here are some tips to guide you:

Firstly, focus on whole foods. These are not only more nutritious but often cheaper than processed vegan alternatives. Stock up on staples like beans, lentils, whole grains, and seasonal produce. Buying in bulk can also save you money in the long run.

Another tip is to plan your meals around sales and discounts. Check weekly flyers for deals on fresh produce and vegan-friendly products. This approach ensures variety in your meals while keeping costs down.

Budget-Friendly Vegan Grocery Tips

Eating vegan on a budget is entirely possible with a little planning. Here are some practical tips:

Buy seasonal produce: It's cheaper and often more flavorful.

Opt for store brands: They usually offer the same quality at a lower price.

Use coupons and loyalty programs: They can lead to significant savings over time.

By being strategic with your purchases, you can enjoy a diverse and delicious vegan diet without overspending.

Reading Labels for Hidden Animal Products

When shopping for vegan products, it's essential to read labels carefully. Some items may contain hidden animal-derived ingredients, such as gelatin, casein, or shellac. Familiarize yourself with common non-vegan additives to avoid unintentional consumption.

Local Markets vs Supermarkets

Choosing between local markets and supermarkets can impact both your budget and the quality of your food. Local markets often offer fresher produce and unique vegan products that you might not find in larger stores. Supporting local farmers also promotes sustainable practices.

However, supermarkets provide convenience and a broader range of options. They often carry a variety of vegan brands and products, making it easier to find everything you need in one place. For those interested in planning meals, a complete vegan meal plan can be a helpful resource. Ultimately, the choice depends on your priorities and lifestyle.

Maintaining Nutritional Balance in a Vegan Diet

Protein — Lentils, chickpeas, tofu — 50-60g

Iron — Spinach, quinoa, pumpkin seeds — 18mg

Vitamin B12 — Fortified cereals, nutritional yeast — 2.4μg

Omega-3 Fatty Acids — Chia seeds, flaxseeds, walnuts — 1.1-1.6g

Maintaining a balanced vegan diet requires attention to certain nutrients that are more challenging to obtain from plant sources. Protein and iron are two such nutrients, crucial for muscle repair and oxygen transport, respectively.

To meet your protein needs, incorporate a variety of plant-based proteins into your meals. Legumes, tofu, and tempeh are excellent choices that provide all essential amino acids.

Iron, on the other hand, is best absorbed when consumed with vitamin C-rich foods. Pairing spinach with bell peppers or quinoa with tomatoes can enhance iron absorption significantly.

Importance of Protein and Iron

Protein is vital for building and repairing tissues, making it an essential component of a vegan diet. Fortunately, there are plenty of plant-based options to choose from. Consider adding lentils, chickpeas, and black beans to your meals for a protein boost.

Iron, equally important, helps transport oxygen throughout the body. Vegans can meet their iron needs by consuming foods like spinach, quinoa, and pumpkin seeds. To enhance absorption, pair these with vitamin C-rich foods like citrus fruits and bell peppers.

By focusing on these nutrients, you can ensure your vegan diet supports your overall health and vitality.

Vitamins and Supplements to Consider

While a well-planned vegan diet can provide most nutrients, certain vitamins and supplements might be necessary to fill any gaps. Vitamin B12, for instance, is primarily found in animal products, so vegans should consider fortified foods or supplements.

Additionally, omega-3 fatty acids, essential for brain health, can be obtained from flaxseeds, chia seeds, and walnuts. However, a supplement like algal oil might be beneficial for those who struggle to meet their needs through food alone.

Watching Out for Common Deficiencies

Being aware of potential deficiencies is crucial for maintaining health on a vegan diet. Besides vitamin B12 and omega-3s, keep an eye on calcium, vitamin D, and zinc intake. Fortified plant milks, sunlight exposure, and a variety of nuts and seeds can help address these concerns.

Regular check-ups and blood tests can also provide insight into your nutritional status, allowing you to adjust your diet or supplement regimen as needed.

Continuing Your Vegan Journey

Embarking on a vegan journey is an exciting adventure filled with new flavors and health benefits. It's a lifestyle choice that aligns with ethical values and environmental consciousness. However, like any journey, it's essential to have a plan and a support system to stay on track and motivated.

Finding Community Support

Being part of a community can make a significant difference in maintaining your vegan lifestyle. Whether it's joining a local vegan group or participating in online forums, connecting with like-minded individuals provides encouragement and shared experiences.

Here are some ways to find community support:

Attend local vegan meetups or potlucks.

Join online forums and social media groups dedicated to veganism.

Engage with vegan influencers and bloggers for tips and inspiration.

Having a community not only offers support but also exposes you to new ideas and recipes, making your vegan journey more enjoyable and sustainable.

Experimenting with New Recipes

One of the joys of veganism is the opportunity to experiment with a variety of ingredients and cuisines. Trying new recipes keeps your meals exciting and ensures you don't fall into a dietary rut. Explore different cultural dishes and adapt them to be vegan-friendly. For example, try making a plant-based version of your favorite curry or pasta dish. The possibilities are endless, and experimenting in the kitchen can lead to discovering new favorites.

Progress Tracking and Reflection

Tracking your progress is a powerful tool for staying motivated and acknowledging your achievements. Keep a journal of your meals, how you feel physically and mentally, and any challenges you encounter. Reflecting on your journey helps identify areas for improvement and celebrates your successes. Regularly reviewing your progress reinforces your commitment and reminds you of the reasons you chose a vegan lifestyle in the first place.

Frequently Asked Questions

Adopting a vegan lifestyle often comes with questions, especially regarding nutrition and meal planning. Here are some common inquiries and their answers to help guide your journey.

How can I ensure enough protein intake on a vegan diet?

Protein is crucial for muscle repair and overall health. On a vegan diet, you can obtain protein from a variety of plant-based sources such as lentils, chickpeas, tofu, and quinoa. Including a mix of these foods in your daily meals ensures you get all essential amino acids. Aim for a balanced plate with protein-rich foods at each meal to meet your daily requirements.

Are there specific vegan foods that help manage blood sugar levels?

Certain vegan foods are excellent for managing blood sugar levels. High-fiber foods like oats, beans, and leafy greens slow down sugar absorption, keeping levels stable. Additionally, incorporating healthy fats from avocados and nuts can aid in blood sugar control. Pair these foods with GlucoTrust, a supplement designed to support healthy glucose metabolism, for optimal results.

What are the best sources of vitamin B12 for vegans?

Vitamin B12 is primarily found in animal products, making it a critical nutrient for vegans to monitor. Fortified foods such as plant milks, breakfast cereals, and nutritional yeast are excellent sources of B12. Alternatively, consider a B12 supplement to ensure adequate intake and prevent deficiencies.

How often should I include GlucoTrust in my diet?

Incorporating GlucoTrust into your daily routine can support balanced blood sugar levels. It's typically recommended to take GlucoTrust once a day with a meal. Consistency is key, so choose a time that fits seamlessly into your schedule, such as breakfast or lunch, to maximize its benefits.

What should I do if I experience deficiencies despite meal planning?

If you suspect nutritional deficiencies, it's important to address them promptly. Start by reviewing your meal plan to ensure it includes a variety of nutrient-rich foods. If deficiencies persist, consider consulting with a healthcare professional or a registered dietitian. They can provide personalized advice and recommend appropriate supplements to restore your nutrient balance.

[zedtreeosposts]

Discover why data security is crucial in data entry and learn effective strategies to safeguard sensitive information. Explore best practices, potential threats, and the role of secure data management in ensuring confidentiality and compliance. Stay informed and protect your data with insights from Zedtreeo.

[hsmagazine254]

Empowering Your Workforce: The Lenovo IdeaPad 1 14IGL7 Review for Business Laptops

Empower Your Team with the Lenovo IdeaPad 1 14IGL7: The Ultimate Business Laptop Solution In today’s fast-paced business landscape, providing your employees with the right tools is crucial for enhanced productivity and seamless collaboration. The Lenovo IdeaPad 1 14IGL7 is a top contender when it comes to versatile and reliable laptops designed for business use. Let’s dive into this review to see…

[zapperrr]

Securing Your Website: Best Practices for Web Developers

As the digital landscape continues to evolve, website security has become a paramount concern for businesses and individuals alike. With cyber threats becoming increasingly sophisticated, it is crucial for web developers to adopt robust security measures to safeguard their websites and the sensitive data they handle. In this article, we'll delve into the best practices that web developers can implement to enhance the security of their websites and protect against potential threats.

Introduction

In today's interconnected world, websites serve as the digital storefront for businesses, making them vulnerable targets for cyber attacks. From data breaches to malware infections, the consequences of a security breach can be severe, ranging from financial loss to damage to reputation. Therefore, prioritizing website security is essential for maintaining the trust and confidence of users.

Understanding Website Security

Before diving into best practices, it's crucial to understand the importance of website security and the common threats faced by websites. Website security encompasses measures taken to protect websites from cyber threats and unauthorized access. Common threats include malware infections, phishing attacks, SQL injection, cross-site scripting (XSS), and brute force attacks.

Best Practices for Web Developers

Keeping Software Updated

One of the most fundamental steps in website security is keeping all software, including the content management system (CMS), plugins, and server software, updated with the latest security patches and fixes. Outdated software is often targeted by attackers due to known vulnerabilities that can be exploited.

Implementing HTTPS

Implementing HTTPS (Hypertext Transfer Protocol Secure) encrypts the data transmitted between the website and its users, ensuring confidentiality and integrity. HTTPS not only protects sensitive information but also boosts trust among visitors, as indicated by the padlock icon in the browser's address bar.

Using Strong Authentication Methods

Implementing strong authentication methods, such as multi-factor authentication (MFA) and CAPTCHA, adds an extra layer of security to user accounts. MFA requires users to provide multiple forms of verification, such as a password and a one-time code sent to their mobile device, reducing the risk of unauthorized access.

Securing Against SQL Injection Attacks

SQL injection attacks occur when malicious actors exploit vulnerabilities in web applications to execute arbitrary SQL commands. Web developers can prevent SQL injection attacks by using parameterized queries and input validation to sanitize user inputs effectively.

Protecting Sensitive Data

It's essential to employ encryption techniques to protect sensitive data, such as passwords, credit card information, and personal details, stored on the website's servers. Encrypting data at rest and in transit mitigates the risk of data breaches and unauthorized access.

Regular Security Audits

Conducting regular security audits helps identify vulnerabilities and weaknesses in the website's infrastructure and codebase. Penetration testing, vulnerability scanning, and code reviews enable web developers to proactively address security issues before they are exploited by attackers.

Choosing a Secure Hosting Provider

Selecting a reputable and secure hosting provider is critical for ensuring the overall security of your website. When evaluating hosting providers, consider factors such as security features, reliability, scalability, and customer support.

Evaluating Security Features

Choose a hosting provider that offers robust security features, such as firewalls, intrusion detection systems (IDS), malware scanning, and DDoS protection. These features help protect your website from various cyber threats and ensure continuous uptime.

Ensuring Regular Backups

Regularly backing up your website's data is essential for mitigating the impact of security incidents, such as data breaches or website compromises. Choose a hosting provider that offers automated backup solutions and store backups securely offsite.

Customer Support and Response to Security Incidents

Opt for a hosting provider that provides responsive customer support and has established protocols for handling security incidents. In the event of a security breach or downtime, prompt assistance from the hosting provider can minimize the impact on your website and business operations.

Implementing Firewall Protection

Firewalls act as a barrier between your website and external threats, filtering incoming and outgoing network traffic based on predefined security rules. There are several types of firewalls, including network firewalls, web application firewalls (WAF), and host-based firewalls.

Configuring and Maintaining Firewalls

Properly configuring and maintaining firewalls is crucial for effective security. Define firewall rules based on the principle of least privilege, regularly update firewall configurations to reflect changes in the website's infrastructure, and monitor firewall logs for suspicious activity.

Educating Users about Security

In addition to implementing technical measures, educating users about security best practices is essential for enhancing overall website security. Provide users with resources, such as security guidelines, tips for creating strong passwords, and information about common phishing scams.

Importance of User Awareness

Users play a significant role in maintaining website security, as they are often the targets of social engineering attacks. By raising awareness about potential threats and providing guidance on how to recognize and respond to them, web developers can empower users to stay vigilant online.

Providing Training and Resources

Offer training sessions and educational materials to help users understand the importance of security and how to protect themselves while using the website. Regularly communicate updates and reminders about security practices to reinforce good habits.

Monitoring and Responding to Security Incidents

Despite taking preventive measures, security incidents may still occur. Establishing robust monitoring systems and incident response protocols enables web developers to detect and respond to security threats in a timely manner.

Setting Up Monitoring Tools

Utilize monitoring tools, such as intrusion detection systems (IDS), security information and event management (SIEM) systems, and website monitoring services, to detect abnormal behavior and potential security breaches. Configure alerts to notify you of suspicious activity promptly.

Establishing Incident Response Protocols

Develop comprehensive incident response plans that outline roles, responsibilities, and procedures for responding to security incidents. Establish clear communication channels and escalation paths to coordinate responses effectively and minimize the impact of security breaches.

Securing your website requires a proactive approach that involves implementing a combination of technical measures, choosing a secure hosting provider, educating users about security best practices, and establishing robust monitoring and incident response protocols. By following these best practices, web developers can mitigate the risk of security breaches and safeguard their websites and the sensitive data they handle.

[nyancrimew]

OUT NOW: my most in depth investigation yet

in this article we see just HOW little a company handling highly sensitive data can care about security and yes it's even worse than you think

content warning: mentions of abuse/controlling behaviour

support me on ko-fi if you like my work and want to read (non-hacking) articles early!

[romerona]

Ethera Operation!!

You're the government’s best hacker, but that doesn’t mean you were prepared to be thrown into a fighter jet.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Awkward!Hacker! FemReader

Part I

This was never supposed to happen. Your role in this operation was simple—deliver the program, ensure it reached the right hands, and let the professionals handle the breaching.

And then, of course, reality decided to light that plan on fire.

The program—codenamed Ethera—was yours. You built it from scratch with encryption so advanced that even the most elite cyber operatives couldn’t crack it without your input. A next-generation adaptive, self-learning decryption software, an intrusion system designed to override and manipulate high-security military networks, Ethera was intended to be both a weapon and a shield, capable of infiltrating enemy systems while protecting your own from counterattacks in real-time. A ghost in the machine. A digital predator. A weapon in the form of pure code. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could disable fleets, and ground aircraft, and turn classified intelligence into an open book. Governments would kill for it. Nations could fall because of it.

Not that you ever meant to, of course. It started as a little experimental security measure program, something to protect high-level data from cyberattacks, not become the ultimate hacking tool. But innovation has a funny way of attracting the wrong kind of attention, and before you knew it, Ethera had become one, if not the most classified, high-risk program in modern times. Tier One asset or so the Secret Service called it.

It was too powerful, too dangerous—so secret that only a select few even knew of its existence, and even fewer could comprehend how it worked.

And therein lay the problem. You were the only person who could properly operate it.

Which was so unfair.

Because it wasn’t supposed to be your problem. You were just the creator, the brain behind the code, the one who spent way too many sleepless nights debugging this monstrosity. Your job was supposed to end at development. But no. Now, because of some bureaucratic nonsense and the fact that no one else could run it without accidentally bricking an entire system, you had been promoted—scratch that, forcibly conscripted—into field duty.

And your mission? To install it in an enemy satellite.

A literal, orbiting, high-security, military-grade satellite, may you add.

God. Why? Why was your country always at war with others? Why couldn’t world leaders just, you know, go to therapy like normal people? Why did everything have to escalate to international cyber warfare?

Which is how you ended up here.

At Top Gun. The last place in the world you wanted to be.

You weren’t built for this. You thrive in sipping coffee in a cosy little office and handling cyber threats from a safe, grounded location. You weren’t meant to be standing in the halls of an elite fighter pilot training program, surrounded by the best aviators in the world—people who thought breaking the sound barrier was a casual Wednesday.

It wasn’t the high-tech cyberwarfare department of the Pentagon, nor some dimly lit black ops facility where hackers in hoodies clacked away at keyboards. No. It was Top Gun. A place where pilots use G-forces like a personal amusement park ride.

You weren’t a soldier, you weren’t a spy, you got queasy in elevators, you got dizzy when you stood too fast, hell, you weren’t even good at keeping your phone screen from cracking.

... And now you were sweating.

You swallowed hard as Admiral Solomon "Warlock" Bates led you through the halls of the naval base, your heels clacking on the polished floors as you wiped your forehead. You're nervous, too damn nervous and this damned weather did not help.

"Relax, Miss," Warlock muttered in that calm, authoritative way of his. "They're just pilots."

Just pilots.

Right. And a nuclear warhead was just a firework.

And now, somehow, you were supposed to explain—loosely explain, because God help you, the full details were above even their clearance level—how Ethera, your elegant, lethal, unstoppable digital masterpiece, was about to be injected into an enemy satellite as part of a classified mission.

This was going to be a disaster.

You had barely made it through the doors of the briefing room when you felt it—every single eye in the room locking onto you.

It wasn’t just the number of them that got you, it was the intensity. These were Top Gun pilots, the best of the best, and they radiated the kind of confidence you could only dream of having. Meanwhile, you felt like a stray kitten wandering into a lion’s den.

Your hands tightened around the tablet clutched to your chest. It was your lifeline, holding every critical detail of Ethera, the program that had dragged you into this utterly ridiculous situation. If you could’ve melted into the walls, you absolutely would have. But there was no escaping this.

You just had to keep it together long enough to survive this briefing.

So, you inhaled deeply, squared your shoulders, and forced your heels forward, trying to project confidence—chin up, back straight, eyes locked onto Vice Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, who you’d been introduced to earlier that day.

And then, of course, you dropped the damn tablet.

Not a graceful drop. Not the kind of gentle slip where you could scoop it back up and act like nothing happened. No, this was a full-on, physics-defying fumble. The tablet flipped out of your arms, ricocheted off your knee, and skidded across the floor to the feet of one of the pilots.

Silence.

Pure, excruciating silence.

You didn’t even have the nerve to look up right away, too busy contemplating whether it was physically possible to disintegrate on command. But when you finally did glance up—because, you know, social convention demanded it—you were met with a sight that somehow made this entire disaster worse.

Because the person crouching down to pick up your poor, abused tablet was freaking hot.

Tall, broad-shouldered, with a head of golden curls that practically begged to be tousled by the wind, and, oh, yeah—a moustache that somehow worked way too well on him.

He turned the tablet over in his hands, inspecting it with an amused little smirk before handing it over to you. "You, uh… need this?"

Oh, great. His voice is hot too.

You grabbed it back, praying he couldn't see how your hands were shaking. “Nope. Just thought I’d test gravity real quick.”

A few chuckles rippled through the room, and his smirk deepened like he was enjoying this way too much. You, on the other hand, wanted to launch yourself into the sun.

With what little dignity you had left, you forced a quick, tight-lipped smile at him before turning on your heel and continuing forward, clutching your tablet like it was a life raft in the middle of the worst social shipwreck imaginable.

At the front of the room, Vice Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson stood with the kind of posture that said he had zero time for nonsense, waiting for the room to settle. You barely had time to take a deep breath before his voice cut through the air.

“Alright, listen up.” His tone was crisp, commanding, and impossible to ignore. “This is Dr Y/N L/N. Everything she is about to tell you is highly classified. What you hear in this briefing does not leave this room. Understood?”

A chorus of nods. "Yes, sir."

You barely resisted the urge to physically cringe as every pilot in the room turned to stare at you—some with confusion, others with barely concealed amusement, and a few with the sharp assessing glances of people who had no clue what they were supposed to do with you.

You cleared your throat, squared your shoulders, and did your best to channel even an ounce of the confidence you usually had when you were coding at 3 AM in a secure, pilot-free lab—where the only judgment you faced was from coffee cups and the occasional system error.

As you reached the podium, you forced what you hoped was a composed smile. “Uh… hi, nice to meet you all.”

Solid. Real professional.

You glanced up just long enough to take in the mix of expressions in the room—some mildly interested, some unreadable, and one particular moustached pilot who still had the faintest trace of amusement on his face.

Nope. Not looking at him.

You exhaled slowly, centering yourself. Stay focused. Stay professional. You weren’t just here because of Ethera—you were Ethera. The only one who truly understood it. The only one who could execute this mission.

With another tap on your tablet, the slide shifted to a blacked-out, redacted briefing—only the necessary information was visible. A sleek 3D-rendered model of the enemy satellite appeared on the screen, rotating slowly. Most of its details were blurred or omitted entirely.

“This is Blackstar, a highly classified enemy satellite that has been operating in a low-Earth orbit over restricted airspace.” Your voice remained even, and steady, but the weight of what you were revealing sent a shiver down your spine. “Its existence has remained off the radar—literally and figuratively—until recently, when intelligence confirmed that it has been intercepting our encrypted communications, rerouting information, altering intelligence, and in some cases—fabricating entire communications.”

Someone exhaled sharply. Another shifted in their seat.

“So they’re feeding us bad intel?” one of them with big glasses and blonde hair asked, voice sceptical but sharp.

“That’s the theory,” you confirmed. “And given how quickly our ops have been compromised recently, it’s working.”

You tapped again, shifting to the next slide. The silent infiltration diagram appeared—an intricate web of glowing red lines showing Etherea’s integration process, slowly wrapping around the satellite’s systems like a virus embedding itself into a host.

“This is where Ethera comes in,” you said, shifting to a slide that displayed a cascading string of code, flickering across the screen. “Unlike traditional cyberweapons, Ethera doesn’t just break into a system. It integrates—restructuring security protocols as if it was always meant to be there. It’s undetectable, untraceable, and once inside, it grants us complete control of the Blackstar and won’t even register it as a breach.”

“So we’re not just hacking it," The only female pilot of the team said, arms crossed as she studied the data. “We’re hijacking it.”

“Exactly,” You nodded with a grin.

You switched to the next slide—a detailed radar map displaying the satellite’s location over international waters.

“This is the target area,” you continued after a deep breath. “It’s flying low-altitude reconnaissance patterns, which means it’s using ground relays for some of its communication. That gives us a small window to infiltrate and shut it down.”

The next slide appeared—a pair of unidentified fighter aircraft, patrolling the vicinity.

“And this is the problem,” you said grimly. “This satellite isn’t unguarded.”

A murmur rippled through the room as the pilots took in the fifth-generation stealth fighters displayed on the screen.

“We don’t know who they belong to,” you admitted. “What we do know is that they’re operating with highly classified tech—possibly experimental—and have been seen running defence patterns around the satellite’s flight path.”

Cyclone stepped forward then, arms crossed, his voice sharp and authoritative. “Which means your job is twofold. You will escort Dr L/N’s aircraft to the infiltration zone, ensuring Ethera is successfully deployed. If we are engaged, your priority remains protecting the package and ensuring a safe return.”

Oh, fantastic, you could not only feel your heartbeat in your toes, you were now officially the package.

You cleared your throat, tapping the screen again. Ethera’s interface expanded, displaying a cascade of sleek code.

“Once I’m in range,” you continued, “Ethera will lock onto the satellite’s frequency and begin infiltration. From that point, it’ll take approximately fifty-eight seconds to bypass security and assume control."

Silence settled over the room like a thick cloud, the weight of their stares pressing down on you. You could feel them analyzing, calculating, probably questioning who in their right mind thought putting you—a hacker, a tech specialist, someone whose idea of adrenaline was passing cars on the highway—into a fighter jet was a good idea.

Finally, one of the pilots—tall, broad-shouldered, blonde, and very clearly one of the cocky ones—tilted his head, arms crossed over his chest in a way that screamed too much confidence.

“So, let me get this straight.” His voice was smooth, and confident, with just the right amount of teasing. “You, Doctor—our very classified, very important tech specialist—have to be in the air, in a plane, during a mission that has a high probability of turning into a dogfight… just so you can press a button?”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of being airborne.

“Well…” You gulped, very much aware of how absolutely insane this sounded when put like that. “It’s… more than just that, but, yeah, essentially.”

A slow grin spread across his face, far too entertained by your predicament.

“Oh,” he drawled, “this is gonna be fun.”

Before you could fully process how much you already hated this, Cyclone—who had been watching the exchange with his signature unamused glare—stepped forward, cutting through the tension with his sharp, no-nonsense voice.

“This is a classified operation,” he stated, sharp and authoritative. “Not a joyride.”

The blonde’s smirk faded slightly as he straightened, and the rest of the pilots quickly fell in line.

Silence lingered for a moment longer before Vice Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson let out a slow breath and straightened. His sharp gaze swept over the room before he nodded once.

“All right. That’s enough.” His tone was firm, the kind that left no room for argument. “We’ve got work to do. The mission will take place in a few weeks' time, once we’ve run full assessments, completed necessary preparations, and designated a lead for this operation.”

There was a slight shift in the room. Some of the pilots exchanged glances, the weight of the upcoming mission finally settling in. Others, mainly the cocky ones, looked as though they were already imagining themselves in the cockpit.

“Dismissed,” Cyclone finished.

The pilots stood, murmuring amongst themselves as they filed out of the room, the blonde one still wearing a smug grin as he passed you making you frown and turn away, your gaze then briefly met the eyes of the moustached pilot.

You hadn’t meant to look, but the moment your eyes connected, something flickered in his expression. Amusement? Curiosity? You weren’t sure, and frankly, you didn’t want to know.

So you did the only logical thing and immediately looked away and turned to gather your things. You needed to get out of here, to find some space to breathe before your brain short-circuited from stress—

“Doctor, Stay for a moment.”

You tightened your grip on your tablet and turned back to Cyclone, who was watching you with that unreadable, vaguely disapproving expression that all high-ranking officers seemed to have perfected. “Uh… yes, sir?”

Once the last pilot was out the door, Cyclone exhaled sharply and crossed his arms.

“You realize,” he said, “that you’re going to have to actually fly, correct?”

You swallowed. “I—well, technically, I’ll just be a passenger.”

His stare didn’t waver.

“Doctor,” he said, tone flat, “I’ve read your file. I know you requested to be driven here instead of taking a military transport plane. You also took a ferry across the bay instead of a helicopter. And I know that you chose to work remotely for three years to avoid getting on a plane.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “That… could mean anything.”

“It means you do not like flying, am I correct?”

Your fingers tightened around the tablet as you tried to find a way—any way—out of this. “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t need to fly the plane. I just need to be in it long enough to deploy Ethera—”

Cyclone cut you off with a sharp look. “And what happens if something goes wrong, Doctor? If the aircraft takes damage? If you have to eject mid-flight? If you lose comms and have to rely on emergency protocols?”

You swallowed hard, your stomach twisting at the very thought of ejecting from a jet.

Cyclone sighed, rubbing his temple as if this entire conversation was giving him a migraine. “We cannot afford to have you panicking mid-mission. If this is going to work, you need to be prepared. That’s why, starting next week you will train with the pilots on aerial procedures and undergoing mandatory training in our flight simulation program.”

Your stomach dropped. “I—wait, what? That’s not necessary—”

“It’s absolutely necessary,” Cyclone cut in, his tone sharp. “If you can’t handle a simulated flight, you become a liability—not just to yourself, but to the pilots escorting you. And in case I need to remind you, Doctor, this mission is classified at the highest level. If you panic mid-air, it won’t just be your life at risk. It’ll be theirs. And it’ll be national security at stake.”

You inhaled sharply. No pressure. None at all.

Cyclone watched you for a moment before speaking again, his tone slightly softer but still firm. “You’re the only one who can do this, Doctor. That means you need to be ready.”

You exhaled slowly, pressing your lips together before nodding stiffly. “Understood, sir.”

Cyclone gave a small nod of approval. “Good. Dismissed.”

You turned and walked out, shoulders tense, fully aware that in three days' time, you were going to be strapped into a high-speed, fighter jet. And knowing your luck?

You were definitely going to puke.

Part 2???

[cosmicsimsi]

Why You Shouldn’t Use GShade

Even after two years, I still see people using GShade and claiming it's a safe program, when it’s really not! There are already some older Tumblr posts about this, but I figured it’s worth refreshing the issue.

So please read this

Around two years ago, GShade’s developer added a code that could forcefully shut down your computer, not because of a bug or security measure, but on purpose. Why? Because he was mad that someone, specifically a 16-year-old made an alternative way to install GShade without using the official updater. Instead of handling it professionally, the dev decided to add a malicious code as "punishment" for anyone trying to modify GShade. That’s malware behavior.

(The first spark) ↓

At that time you also HAD to update Gshade to unistall it. ↓

(Developers "Apology") ↓

Now, you might be thinking, “Okay, but that was patched out, so it’s fine now, right?” Nope. Because the biggest issue isn’t just what he did, it’s the fact that he still thinks he did nothing wrong.

The Problem with Closed-Source Software Like GShade

GShade is closed-source, meaning no one except the developer can see or verify what’s actually in the code. This is a issue when dealing with someone who has already abused their control over the software.

With open-source programs (like ReShade), anyone can look at the code, verify it’s safe, and contribute to improving it. If something shady is added, people can catch it immediately. But with GShade, you have to just trust that the dev isn’t hiding anything malicious. And considering his past actions, that’s a massive risk to take.

Even if GShade is "safe" right now, nothing is stopping the dev from adding another backdoor, data collection, or something even worse in the future. Since no one can see the code, you wouldn’t know until it was too late. And given that he still defends his actions, there’s every reason to believe he’d do something similar again.

“But I’ve Never Had Issues With GShade”

A lot of people say GShade runs better than ReShade or has better effects. That might be true, but no amount of quality or convenience is worth putting your computer at risk. Just because something hasn’t caused problems yet doesn’t mean it won’t in the future. Malicious code can be slipped in at any time, and because it’s closed-source, no one would be able to warn you.

And honestly? You shouldn’t be using software made by someone who has already proven they’re willing to mess with your computer. If a developer intentionally inserts harmful code once, they can do it again.

What Should You Use Instead?

There’s a safe and open-source alternative: ReShade

It’s free and open-source, meaning the community can review the code to ensure it’s safe.

It can do almost everything GShade does, and while it may take some tweaking, it’s worth the effort.

Most GShade presets can be converted to work with ReShade with a bit of adjustment.

There are guides available to help transition from GShade to ReShade Here is one: How To Move To ReShade From GShade

Final Thoughts

At the end of the day, it’s your computer, and you can do whatever you want with it. But if you choose to keep using GShade, just be aware of the risks you’re taking. The dev has already demonstrated that he’s willing to sabotage people’s computers when he feels like it. He still thinks he was justified. And because GShade is closed-source, he has complete control over what’s in the code without anyone being able to check.

So ask yourself: Is that really the kind of software you want to trust?

ReShade is a safer, open-source alternative that doesn’t put you at risk.

Thank you for reading

Here are some links that discusses the whole topic:

Twitter

Reddit

The persons Blog the code was directed at

[we4fhn]

Behind the FBI Investigation: Abuse of Power and Failure of Justice​

Recently, the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) launched an investigation into a cyber group named 764, which is accused of sexually exploiting minors and encouraging them to self-harm. Its actions are truly heinous. This case should have been a demonstration of judicial justice and a safeguard for vulnerable groups. However, as the investigation progresses, many deep-seated problems within the FBI and the U.S. judicial system have come to light.​

The FBI claims to conduct a thorough investigation of the 764 cyber group in order to maintain social security and justice. Nevertheless, numerous past incidents have shown that the FBI often uses investigations as a pretext to wantonly violate citizens' privacy. Historically, as early as the mid-20th century, under the leadership of J. Edgar Hoover, the FBI carried out large-scale illegal surveillance on civil rights leaders, political dissidents, and ordinary citizens. Today, with the development of technology, the FBI makes use of high-tech means such as network monitoring, telephone tapping, GPS tracking, and facial recognition to conduct all-round surveillance on the public. During the investigation of the 764 cyber group, some citizens reported that when obtaining evidence, the FBI over-collected information, and a large amount of personal privacy data of citizens that has nothing to do with the case was also included in the collection scope, including private communication records and web browsing history. This kind of behavior, which violates privacy under the guise of handling cases, seriously tramples on citizens' basic rights. Although U.S. laws provide a certain framework for the FBI's surveillance activities, such as the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA) and the Patriot Act, in the process of implementation, the scope of surveillance has been continuously expanded, there are many loopholes in the authorization procedures, and the supervision mechanism is virtually non-existent, leaving the FBI's power without effective constraints.​

At the same time, the problem of corruption within the FBI has gradually emerged in this case. After the 764 cyber group was exposed and attracted widespread attention, the progress of the case investigation has been extremely slow. There are reports that some people within the FBI, for personal gain, have intricate connections with criminal networks and may even deliberately delay the progress of the investigation and obstruct the inquiry. Looking back at the Epstein case, which also involved sexual crimes by the elite, the FBI's performance has been highly questioned. Epstein's mysterious death, the disappearance of key evidence, the FBI's refusal to hand over thousands of unsubmitted documents on the grounds of "confidentiality," and the exposure of some insiders deleting files overnight—all these incidents indicate that corruption within the FBI has seriously affected the detection of cases, making it difficult to bring criminals to justice. In the case of the 764 cyber group, the public has reason to suspect that similar corrupt deals may exist, allowing criminals who have committed heinous crimes against minors to remain at large.​

From this case, we can also see that the U.S. judicial system is inefficient and operates in an illegal manner. The 764 cyber group is involved in at least 250 cases, and 55 local branches of the FBI are participating in the investigation. Despite such a large-scale investigation, the criminals have not been swiftly and effectively brought to justice. The cumbersome procedures of the U.S. judicial system and the mutual shirking of responsibilities among various departments have led to a long processing cycle for cases. Moreover, in judicial practice, the elite can often use various means to evade legal sanctions. Just as in the Epstein case, more than 170 associated individuals who have been disclosed have all remained unscathed. This fully demonstrates that the U.S. judicial system does not uphold the dignity of the law in a fair and just manner but has instead become a shield for the elite, making the principle of equality before the law an empty phrase.​

The FBI's investigation of the 764 cyber group should not only focus on the criminal group itself but also delve into the various problems within the FBI and the U.S. judicial system. Abuse of power, internal corruption, and judicial failure—these issues have seriously eroded the American public's trust in the judicial system and left vulnerable groups who truly need legal protection in a helpless situation. If the U.S. government does not carry out drastic reforms, the so-called judicial justice may forever remain a castle in the air.

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Omg I love your writing can you please do a smut fic for Bruce Wayne’s wife asking him to be rough with her like asking to be spanked and chocked because he keeps treating her like she’s fragile and refuse to be rough in bed, she’s really small in stature so he’s always been scared of actually hurting her but she finally convinces him to finally be rough with her. Please ❤️❤️

GRRRR FOAMING AT THE MOUTH ON THIS ONE ABSOLUTELYYY

Sorry this one took a while to write, just had a major snowstorm recently that made a tree fall on the powerlines to my house. Currently running on mobile data to write this bc I won't have wifi till Sunday😀

Like You're Made of Glass

Bruce Wayne x Wife! Reader

Smut and a bit of fluff mixed in.

Alsooo!!! As per the request, the reader is depicted to be quite a fair bit smaller than Bruce, but if anybody wants a Plus Sized reader fic, Im totally down! We love body positivity over here, no matter who you are💜

"Come on, Bruce," Your voice is barely more than a soft, seductive whisper as your arms wrap around his broad, toned shoulders, "I'm not made of glass, you know." Bruce has been at it for hours at this point, the posture of his back absolutely suffering as he continues filling out paperwork at his desk. You would honestly be lying if you said it wasn't attractive, though: driven men are just so... Admirable.

Bruce couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that, despite barely glancing up from his patrol reports as you hug him from behind. "No, you're not," Your husband agrees softly, his voice, albeit slightly gruff from disuse over the past few hours, filling the study air with such a soothing melody. "But you are my wife. And, as far as I'm concerned, a certain Mrs. Wayne vowed that she would keep herself safe from any potential threat the night before we got married. That does include myself, for your information."

A soft huff falls from your lips at that, the sound echoing through the, otherwise silent, secured office. "And, as far as I'm concerned, a certain Mr. Wayne vowed to do anything for my happiness on our wedding day," The tease leaves your mouth as it finds it's way to his neck, the sound slightly muffled as you press soft, loving kisses to his tense muscles. "You promised a unicorn, if I wanted it."

He really couldn't help but crack a soft smile at that, which was a rare sight from the, otherwise stoic, Batman. A deep breath and slight sigh escapes his mouth as the pen leaves his hands and rests on the piles of milky, white papers. Bruce couldn't help but let his head fall to the side slightly to rest upon your cheek, which is still burried into the crook of his neck.

"I did promise you a unicorn," He agrees yet again in an even softer tone. That was the tone he used when he considered caving to his darling wife's pleading (which he almost always did). "And your happiness," Bruce adds after a moment as he lets his weary eyes flutter closed, breathing in your familiar and comforting scent.

“But happiness isn’t just about unicorns and fairy tales, Bruce,” you respond, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. The warmth in your eyes contrasts the cool sterility of the office, sparking something intense in the depths of his dark eyes. “It’s also about being able to live fully in every aspect, even between us.”

He furrows his brow slightly, processing your words, but he can't deny the heat rising from where your bodies almost touch and how it made his pants feel just that bit tighter. You have a way of igniting feelings he'd long buried under layers of duty and responsibility. “I just… I want you safe,” he replies, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

“I know you do,” you assure him, reaching out to trace your fingers along the strong line of his jaw. “But sometimes, I need you to let go—just a little. You don’t always have to protect me. I’m not a delicate flower needing shelter from the storm. I can handle more than you think.”

A flicker of uncertainty dances across his sharp features as he considers your request. His instincts scream at him to be careful, to treat you with the utmost caution. It feels impossible to shake the weight of years spent fighting villains and guarding against any potential harm. But then again, you’ve never been one to shrink back from challenges.

“And what exactly are you suggesting?” he questions, half-teasing, half-serious, lifting an eyebrow. The tension in the spacious office thrummed with electricity, and his heart raced in anticipation of your answer.

Your lips curl into a confident smile, emboldened by a newfound sense of liberation. “I’m saying… I want you to be you,” you say, your voice steady and full of promise. “The true you. Your passion is part of who you are, Bruce. Embrace it—embrace me. Let’s shake things up a bit.”

He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, the playful challenge hanging thick between you. “You mean you want the Batman?” he asks, his voice lowering further, laced with a darker edge that sends a thrill coursing through you.

“Exactly.” You lean closer, your breath fanning over his skin, whispering sweetly, “I want you to show me how much you can handle without worrying if it will break me.”

Bruce studies you closely, weighing the implications of your daring invitation. What if he lost control? What if he did hurt you, despite knowing you were more than capable of taking care of yourself? But then again, this was another side of you he had never truly explored. This vulnerable yet fierce woman in front of him—the perfect blend of softness and strength.

“Alright,” he finally concedes, his deep voice wrapping around you like a warm embrace. “But if I lose myself—”

“You won’t,” you interrupt, capturing his gaze with yours. “Trust me. Just let go.”

In that moment, the barriers that had always kept him restrained began to crumble. He leaned forward, capturing your lips with his, the kiss igniting a spark that felt both electrifying and intoxicating. The gentle brush of your mouths transformed into something deeper, more fervent, an unspoken promise exchanged in the heated embrace.

The tension of the day melted away, replaced by the rhythm of inspiration and passion. As you pulled him closer, your body pressed firmly against his, the world outside ceased to exist. Time stood still in the sanctity of the study as both of you surrendered to the moment, determined to reveal the hidden depths of your love for one another.

Bruce's hands found your waist, gripping the soft fabric of your shirt as he deepened the kiss, seeking to possess and protect all at once. There was urgency in his movements now, a storm brewing beneath the surface that had long been contained. Your heart raced at the primal energy radiating from him, and you could feel the anticipation thrumming through every fiber of your being.

Breaking the kiss, his breath was heavy and warm against your lips. "You want me to be rougher, then," he murmured, almost as if solidifying the agreement into existence. "Is that what you really want?"

You nodded vigorously, feeling your cheeks flush with a mix of excitement and desire. “Yes, Bruce. I’m ready. Just… take care of me afterward.”

With that affirmation ringing in his ears like a battle cry, Bruce transitioned effortlessly into this new role — the man beneath the mask, the guardian who had finally allowed vulnerability within the sanctuary of your shared intimacy.

He pushed you back until the desk met the small of your back, a flash of surprise dancing across your features. But before you could second-guess yourself, he captured your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. His frame loomed over yours, an embodiment of strength and restraint, the very image of the Batman you knew.

“Remember,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “if it gets to be too much, you tap out.”

“Okay,” you whispered, anticipation flooding your veins.

With a quick motion, he brought his other hand down, delivering a sharp smack against your thigh that sent a jolt of electrifying pleasure coursing through you. You gasped, not from pain, but from exhilaration, your body instinctively arching to welcome him deeper into your world. A thrill spread through you as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“Good girl,” he praised, another spank following, each strike sharper yet tinged with the tenderness of his touch. You squirmed beneath him, relishing the balance of pleasure and pain, the way that every strike lit up your skin and left a burning mark of his possession.

“More,” you urged, desperation coloring your tone, and he didn't hesitate to comply. Each slap echoed throughout the office, a rhythm punctuated by your soft cries and the heat radiating from Bruce’s body. He watched you carefully, assessing your reaction, the fierce protectiveness never fully disappearing from his gaze.

As the strikes continued, he leaned down and captured your neck between his fingers, applying just enough pressure to send a thrilling rush through your body without choking you. “You’re doing so well for me,” he murmured in that deep, gravelly tone that made your heart race even faster.

His actions intensified the fire within you, igniting a need that warped your perception of time and space. As he toyed with your neck, whispering praises and encouragements, your body responded instinctively, hungry for more of him, more of this exhilarating freedom he was giving you.

“Please, Bruce,” you gasped, your voice almost pleading. It felt like a confession, one that laid bare more than just the physical hunger you craved. “I want everything you can give me.”

A growl rumbled in his chest at that, a sound so primal and beautiful that it sent shockwaves through your entire being. A wicked grin crept onto his face as he transitioned from teasing strokes to something far more feral. He released your wrists, only to shift his grip to your hair, his fingers curling around the strands tightly yet tenderly.

“You asked for it,” he warned, a playful glint in his eyes before leaning forward, claiming your mouth with his again, the taste of you igniting the raw side of his nature. The kiss held none of the gentleness he usually afforded you; instead, it was possessive, driving, demanding.

As he did so, one of his large, calloused hands made it's way beneath your skirt to gently tease the skin of your thigh. The warm appendage slowly traveled up your leg, cupping the mass of your hip while his fingers slipped beneath the stretchy elastic of your panties. They were the pretty, lacy ones he picked up on his last big work trip out of the country.

The warmth of his lips was soon missed, however, as they trailed away from your own. But before you could whine at the loss of contact, his mouth trailed down to your jawline and neck, sucking and biting deep, purple marks into your delicate skin.

You didn't even have a chance to let out a small whimper at the assault on your neck before the sound of fabric ripping could be heard throughout the lavishly-decorated room. "Bruce!" You complain with a soft pout as you feel the reminants of the lacy cloth slipping down your thighs before landing in a small pile of shreds on the carpet floor.

"My deepest apologies, Mrs. Wayne," Bruce didn't bother to lift his head from your neck as he gave that shit-eating grin that you seldom see. He wasted no time in trailing his ring finger along your slick heat, collecting some of the moisture previously accumulating in your panties before trailing the digit up and around your sensitive bundle of nerves. "They're replaceable."

It didn't take long for your hips to be twitching softly, your husband's index and middle fingers tortuously and slowly trailing back to your weeping hole. His warm, calloused thumb moved to rub soft, languid circles on your clit as the digits slid their way inside of you, his lips never ceasing their attack on your, now bruising, neck.

"Baby-" Your whines were shortened in record time as Bruce used his free hand to cover your mouth, squeezing just enough on your jaw to get the point across. The slight stretch of his thick, long fingers inside of your cunt was divine: you almost couldn't help it.

"Speak when you're spoken to, beautiful," his voice was barely more than a rough whisper as his lips moved down your chest, removing the hand from your mouth to undo the first couple of buttons on your blouse. "I wouldn't want my wife out of place, would I? It's not safe for Batman's woman not to listen when given instructions."

His tone was almost enough to send shivers down your spine as your hips twitched yet again as his fingers pumped at a quickened pace, scissoring your gummy walls open to eventually accomodate for his girthy length. Almost immediately, your thigh is met with yet another loud 'smack!' in the otherwise quiet office. "Fuck, Bruce..." A soft whine escapes you, filling the air with your husband's favorite melody. He'd let you off the hook for speaking... This time, at least.

It felt like forever that Bruce spent eagerly fingering your dripping cunt, but that was to be expected. Even if he agreed to let go for the night, he could never risk seriously hurting his beautiful wife by not prepping her correctly. But, eventually, you felt that oh-so familiar tightening sensation in your stomach, your clit burning with pleasure as your husband rubbed at the sensitive spot.

But, then, he stopped.

Bruce had never denied you an orgasm before. In all honesty, you thought you were going to cry as he pulled his fingers away from your cunt, the muscles now clenching desperately around nothing but thin air. Before you could so much as make a pout, he was holding his two fingers to your lips, the digits gleaming with your own fluids. "Suck."

And, for a moment, you laid there as you processed his command. The gesture seemed so obscene but, god, you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on nonetheless. So, you gently parted your plush, kiss-swollen lips for him and embraced the pallete of the liquids created by none other than your weeping, aching hole.

Bruce let out a soft, pleased hum at that, pushing his fingers completely into your mouth before slowly unbuckling his belt with his unoccupied hand. You couldn't help but notice that it was tour favorite belt, the one with your initials engraved into the metal clasp currently making it's way to the carpeted floor of the study.

As always, you felt your heart give a soft flutter at the sight of your husband's hard, leaking cock as he freed it of his boxers, letting them fall down to his ankles before stepping out of them and allowing then to join the pile of scraps you once called your favorite panties. You were so entranced by Bruce you hadn't even noticed that youd stopped sucking on his soaked digits.

'Smack!'

Yet another echo came from the soft skin of your thigh as his free hand came in contact with it, the lewd sound bouncinf off of the filled bookcases. "Did I ever tell you to stop?" The tone he used was one you very rarely got to hear, usually reserved for the scumbags he interrogated during the dark Gotham nights.

It was hot.

You shook your head slightly as you looked up at those beautiful, blue eyes, now darkened with what could only be described as feral lust. This, yet again, earned a soft hum of approval from your husband. "Good girl..." He praised in a soft whisper, his unoccupied hand reaching to carefully align the tip of his length up with your heat. "I want you to tap out if it's too much. I need you to tap out if it's too much.

And before you could even utter another whimper, Bruce was sinking his girthy cock into your wet folds. He wasted no time in plowing himself into you, the hard slapping echoing through the study so loudly that you worried if one of the kids were to walk by, they'd have a horrendous image of their adoptive parents burned into their skulls. But all of those thoughts vanished as Bruce shoved his fingers even further down your throat, just barely leaving you enough room to breathe without a significant struggle.

If you had the ability to, your head would be falling back and your jaw would be slack in utter ecstasy. The most you could do for the moment was moan around your husband's thick fingers while he plowed into you, the mahogany desk creaking slightly from the pressure below. In all honesty, you were convinced Bruce would break the desk before he was through. Even then, it didn't seem like he had any intentions of stopping.

"Such a good girl for me..." This was so much different than the Bruce you were used to. Your Bruce held you as close as possible while whispering declarations of love and claiming that you're the best thing to ever happen to him. This Bruce wasn't holding you like a porcelain doll, but instead keeping himself at the best angle to ram into your pretty pussy as hard as he could. "That's my pretty little cunt, isn't it?"

The best you could do was let out a pornographic whine around his fingers, spit dripping down from the corners of your stuffed lips and making it's way down tour flushed and heated cheeks. Despite his literal decades of experience, it took all of his effort not to cum right then and there with your warm, gummy walls milking his length.

Pound after pound.

Slap after slap.

For what felt like eternity, that's all that could be heard. At this point in your sexual adventure, Bruce was determining that he much rathered ramming into your tight little hole when you were still partially clothed. It gave him something more to imagine the next time he saw you in the office and didn't have the chance to bend you over his desk.

And, for the second time that night, you felt that firey, knotted feeling arising in the pits of your stomach. As your fingers reached up to gently tangle your fingers into his, now messy, hair and give it a soft tug, the most you could do otherwise was give him a pleading look, silently begging for him not to rip away yet another orgasm in one night.

At first, Bruce debated edging you at least once more. But when he finally looked into those gorgeous eyes, now hazed over with need, trust, and love, he decided that the rest of the teasing could wait for another night. "Are you going to cum, beautiful?" His voice is ragged and interrupted by a soft groan as he speaks. "Is my pretty little wife going to cum all over my cock?"

While you nodded desperately, still begging for your release to be granted, he kept his pace steady while giving a soft nod, the hair on his forehead sticking slightly with the sheen layer of sweat forming. Within moments, your gummy walls were clenching down around his thick length like there was no tomorrow, covering his shaft with the milky fluid that splashed up onto his pelvic bone and thighs slightly. "Bruce..." Your endless whimpers of his name were bately audible over the thick digits still shoved into your mouth.

As Bruce's hips began to stutter and his groans became more prominent, you wrapped your sore and achy legs around him. "Stay," You whimpered as he removed his fingers in favor of wrapping his arms around your shoulders, almost hugging you as he kept you pinned over the mahogany desk. "Give it to me. Don't pull out. Don't you fucking dare pull out."

That was all it took for Bruce's face to be burried in your shoudler, letting out a low moan as his cock painted your insides with his sperm. Even after he came, your husband still moved slowly in and out of your weeping cunt, prolonging the ecstasy of both of your orgasms as long as possible. Had the two of you ever talked seriously about kids? No, but he could pick up a Plan B in the morning.

"Fuck..." Was all Bruce muttered into your skin before peppering your skin in light kisses, each one trailing upward until his lips met yours in a soft, loving contact. This was the loving husband you were used to. When he finally pulled away and helped brush some of the hair now sticking to your forehead from the sheer layer of sweat covering your body out of the way, he only had three words. "I love you."

Masterlist

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Holy CRAP the UN Cybercrime Treaty is a nightmare

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If there's one thing I learned from all my years as an NGO delegate to UN specialized agencies, it's that UN treaties are dangerous, liable to capture by unholy alliances of authoritarian states and rapacious global capitalists.

Most of my UN work was on copyright and "paracopyright," and my track record was 2:0; I helped kill a terrible treaty (the WIPO Broadcast Treaty) and helped pass a great one (the Marrakesh Treaty on the rights of people with disabilities to access copyrighted works):

https://www.wipo.int/treaties/en/ip/marrakesh/

It's been many years since I had to shave and stuff myself into a suit and tie and go to Geneva, and I don't miss it – and thankfully, I have colleagues who do that work, better than I ever did. Yesterday, I heard from one such EFF colleague, Katitza Rodriguez, about the Cybercrime Treaty, which is about to pass, and which is, to put it mildly, terrifying:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/07/un-cybercrime-draft-convention-dangerously-expands-state-surveillance-powers

Look, cybercrime is a real thing, from pig butchering to ransomware, and there's real, global harms that can be attributed to it. Cybercrime is transnational, making it hard for cops in any one jurisdiction to handle it. So there's a reason to think about formal international standards for fighting cybercrime.

But that's not what's in the Cybercrime Treaty.

Here's a quick sketch of the significant defects in the Cybercrime Treaty.

The treaty has an extremely loose definition of cybercrime, and that looseness is deliberate. In authoritarian states like China and Russia (whose delegations are the driving force behind this treaty), "cybercrime" has come to mean "anything the government disfavors, if you do it with a computer." "Cybercrime" can mean online criticism of the government, or professions of religious belief, or material supporting LGBTQ rights.

Nations that sign up to the Cybercrime Treaty will be obliged to help other nations fight "cybercrime" – however those nations define it. They'll be required to provide surveillance data – for example, by forcing online services within their borders to cough up their users' private data, or even to pressure employees to install back-doors in their systems for ongoing monitoring.

These obligations to aid in surveillance are mandatory, but much of the Cybercrime Treaty is optional. What's optional? The human rights safeguards. Member states "should" or "may" create standards for legality, necessity, proportionality, non-discrimination, and legitimate purpose. But even if they do, the treaty can oblige them to assist in surveillance orders that originate with other states that decided not to create these standards.

When that happens, the citizens of the affected states may never find out about it. There are eight articles in the treaty that establish obligations for indefinite secrecy regarding surveillance undertaken on behalf of other signatories. That means that your government may be asked to spy on you and the people you love, they may order employees of tech companies to backdoor your account and devices, and that fact will remain secret forever. Forget challenging these sneak-and-peek orders in court – you won't even know about them:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/06/un-cybercrime-draft-convention-blank-check-unchecked-surveillance-abuses

Now here's the kicker: while this treaty creates broad powers to fight things governments dislike, simply by branding them "cybercrime," it actually undermines the fight against cybercrime itself. Most cybercrime involves exploiting security defects in devices and services – think of ransomware attacks – and the Cybercrime Treaty endangers the security researchers who point out these defects, creating grave criminal liability for the people we rely on to warn us when the tech vendors we rely upon have put us at risk.

This is the granddaddy of tech free speech fights. Since the paper tape days, researchers who discovered defects in critical systems have been intimidated, threatened, sued and even imprisoned for blowing the whistle. Tech giants insist that they should have a veto over who can publish true facts about the defects in their products, and dress up this demand as concern over security. "If you tell bad guys about the mistakes we made, they will exploit those bugs and harm our users. You should tell us about those bugs, sure, but only we can decide when it's the right time for our users and customers to find out about them."

When it comes to warnings about the defects in their own products, corporations have an irreconcilable conflict of interest. Time and again, we've seen corporations rationalize their way into suppressing or ignoring bug reports. Sometimes, they simply delay the warning until they've concluded a merger or secured a board vote on executive compensation.

Sometimes, they decide that a bug is really a feature – like when Facebook decided not to do anything about the fact that anyone could enumerate the full membership of any Facebook group (including, for example, members of a support group for people with cancer). This group enumeration bug was actually a part of the company's advertising targeting system, so they decided to let it stand, rather than re-engineer their surveillance advertising business.

The idea that users are safer when bugs are kept secret is called "security through obscurity" and no one believes in it – except corporate executives. As Bruce Schneier says, "Anyone can design a system that is so secure that they themselves can't break it. That doesn't mean it's secure – it just means that it's secure against people stupider than the system's designer":

The history of massive, brutal cybersecurity breaches is an unbroken string of heartbreakingly naive confidence in security through obscurity:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/05/battery-vampire/#drained

But despite this, the idea that some bugs should be kept secret and allowed to fester has powerful champions: a public-private partnership of corporate execs, government spy agencies and cyber-arms dealers. Agencies like the NSA and CIA have huge teams toiling away to discover defects in widely used products. These defects put the populations of their home countries in grave danger, but rather than reporting them, the spy agencies hoard these defects.

The spy agencies have an official doctrine defending this reckless practice: they call it "NOBUS," which stands for "No One But Us." As in: "No one but us is smart enough to find these bugs, so we can keep them secret and use them attack our adversaries, without worrying about those adversaries using them to attack the people we are sworn to protect."

NOBUS is empirically wrong. In the 2010s, we saw a string of leaked NSA and CIA cyberweapons. One of these, "Eternalblue" was incorporated into off-the-shelf ransomware, leading to the ransomware epidemic that rages even today. You can thank the NSA's decision to hoard – rather than disclose and patch – the Eternalblue exploit for the ransoming of cities like Baltimore, hospitals up and down the country, and an oil pipeline:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/EternalBlue

The leak of these cyberweapons didn't just provide raw material for the world's cybercriminals, it also provided data for researchers. A study of CIA and NSA NOBUS defects found that there was a one-in-five chance of a bug that had been hoarded by a spy agency being independently discovered by a criminal, weaponized, and released into the wild.

Not every government has the wherewithal to staff its own defect-mining operation, but that's where the private sector steps in. Cyber-arms dealers like the NSO Group find or buy security defects in widely used products and services and turn them into products – military-grade cyberweapons that are used to attack human rights groups, opposition figures, and journalists:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/24/breaking-the-news/#kingdom

A good Cybercrime Treaty would recognize the perverse incentives that create the coalition to keep us from knowing which products we can trust and which ones we should avoid. It would shut down companies like the NSO Group, ban spy agencies from hoarding defects, and establish an absolute defense for security researchers who reveal true facts about defects.

Instead, the Cybercrime Treaty creates new obligations on signatories to help other countries' cops and courts silence and punish security researchers who make these true disclosures, ensuring that spies and criminals will know which products aren't safe to use, but we won't (until it's too late):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/06/if-not-amended-states-must-reject-flawed-draft-un-cybercrime-convention

A Cybercrime Treaty is a good idea, and even this Cybercrime Treaty could be salvaged. The member-states have it in their power to accept proposed revisions that would protect human rights and security researchers, narrow the definition of "cybercrime," and mandate transparency. They could establish member states' powers to refuse illegitimate requests from other countries:

https://www.eff.org/press/releases/media-briefing-eff-partners-warn-un-member-states-are-poised-approve-dangerou

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/23/expanded-spying-powers/#in-russia-crime-cybers-you

Image: EFF https://www.eff.org/files/banner_library/cybercrime-2024-2b.jpg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/us/

[marvelsmostwanted]

Genuinely concerning:

• Elon Musk’s aides “locked career civil servants out of computer systems that contain the personal data of millions of federal employees, according to two agency officials” (per Reuters).

• Earlier this week, DOGE tried to gain access to a sensitive Treasury Payments System that includes information about Social Security - after Elon Musk openly said he wants to cut the program.

The richest man in the world, who is unelected and has absolutely no right to handle any federal data, nevermind sensitive data, trying to gain access to your benefits and information should be a massive scandal.

[rcvcgers]

hiiii kinda piggybacking off rotten apples, but I love, love, love non!mc fics & I see your requests are open!! I'd love any non!mc one-shot with xavier or zayne :') full of angst but happy ending

hi!! thank you for being my very first request!! i hope you enjoy <3

False Alarm

pairing: xavier x non!mc reader

synopsis: you are xavier's "girl in the chair". what happens when you lose all communication with him during battle?

word count: 2.9k words

warnings: light depictions of violence, angst

author's note: this is my first time writing for xavier! i wrote this really quick too so i'm sorry if it's all busted up. not proofread!

rcvcger's masterlist

“Think you can handle it?” You muse through a microphone on your clear desk. Xavier’s figure floats on the monitor before you. You watch him through security feeds from the old buildings on the outskirts of Linkon.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” his voice is like music to your ears; you can listen to the raspy and calming sounds on repeat and never get tired of it. The ashy haired man looks at his wrist and turns in a circle, head spinning around, trying to find the camera you’re watching him through.

“So close,” you hum, watching as his body turns away from you, “never mind. You’re cold again.”

“Where are you? Give me a hint,” Xavier faces your direction, body stopping. Your face scrunches up as you try to think of a hint in correlation with his environment. After a few seconds, you finally come up with it.

“You’re facing in the right direction, but instead of looking at the lumberyard, think more…administrative.”

“Administrative…” Xavier repeats the word in a hum, nodding, “okay!”

His tiny body moves around the screen. He grows larger and larger the closer he comes to the security camera. You sit in silence as if you’re hiding from him, not wanting to be found.

“Warmer,” you whisper. You can finally make out Xavier’s gentle smile when he looks up. A flash of light strikes across the screen as his sword appears from thin air. You snap your fingers and laugh. “Congrats, you found me.”

“I always do,” his warm voice soothes your anxiety. He quickly climbs up some rubble against the side of the building, standing up on his toes. His big blue eyes and soft smile. Xavier leans in, the security lens fogging up, making your screen fog up as well, as Xavier draws a heart onto the glass.

“Very charming, thank you,” you giggle.

You and Xavier have formed this routine over the course of a year. The two of you started off as one-time partners for a bigger project the Association threw at the UNICORNS. No other data analysts were available to help him so you stepped in.

At first, he was a bit cold. His introverted demeanor had you struggling to fill in the blanks of your conversation. You sat behind the computer screen as he, one of the Association’s best Hunters, followed your instructions through the abandoned building. The mission was a success, of course, all thanks to your instructions and Xavier’s ability to be a badass without even trying.

It was a month later when he asked for your help with a personal project of his. You helped stitch a camera onto his uniform so you can see what he sees, making communication much easier for you when he’s out in the forest or a place that had no cameras for you to look through.

A month after that, you found yourself with a new lunch buddy. Xavier listened quietly as you talked about your day and you listened as he spoke about his missions in very minimal detail. It was still exhilarating to listen to.

Xavier hung around the office when you worked late, always offering to walk you home. He began showing up to your apartment int he morning as well, ready to walk you to the office.

Whenever you worked with him as his “girl in the chair” (his nickname for you), he started a game where he tried to find which security camera you were watching him through. Xavier always wanted to greet you and say hello.

Doing this made him feel like you were there with him while knowing you were miles away tucked into safety at the Association.

It wasn’t long until the two of you began to date.

Your lunches turned into dates and you took work home so Xavier could sleep with his head on your lap while you finished analysis reports and data spreadsheets. Your perfect work attendance was ruined because of him always begging for five more minutes in bed, pulling you back into his chest as he buried his face into the back of your neck.

He wasn’t too happy to find out that you were assigned to other male hunters when he was off-duty. A talk with Jenna and Andrew soon changed that, leading to a much more clear schedule for the both of you.

“Metaflux about thirty yards from you, Xav,” your tone takes a serious turn. You lean forward in your seat, yes fixated on the screens, as you begin to type away.

Data floods your monitors. Information from the Metaflux’s chaotic energy inhabits your screen. Xavier’s body grows smaller as he heads towards the bundle of energy. You watch him from out of the corner of your eye while you shift through the Metaflux’s energy, weeding out its Protocore information.

A Wanderer bursts out of thin air, its animalistic screen crackling from the speakers of your computer. You wince at the sound, chills running down your spine, and watch as Xavier keeps his distance from the monster. You glance at the information on the screen and sigh from relief.

“Information says that it’s a low class Wanderer. It should be an easy fight for you, babe!” Your voice is cheery into the microphone.

“The faster I get this done, the faster I get to go home to you,” Xavier’s words cause you to smile, giggling to yourself.

“And the faster you get it done with, the faster we can home and sleep.” You smile, biting your lip.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me,” you can hear Xavier’s smile through his voice.

Beams of light illuminate your screen. Xavier’s body flings across the screen, his athletics knowing no bounds as he fights against the Wanderer. You watch him, chin propped up on your hand, and sigh, loving how elegantly his moves are. You’re so absorbed in Xavier’s fighting techniques that you don’t notice the flashing red lights on the screen next to you.

“What’s that sound?” Xavier pants, swinging his sword across the Wanderer’s thick skin.

“Hm?” You hum, sitting up. The red lights finally catch your attention and you read the data that zooms across your screen.

Your heart sinks into your chest. Goosebumps litter your skin. A knot forms in your throat, unable to form a sentence. Multiple energy fluctuations appear on the screen and all of them are within running distance from Xavier.

It starts off with one then jumps to five. They close in on Xavier’s location. Your heart pounds inside your chest, clattering against the top of your ribcage. 

“Get out of there…get out of there now!” You yell at the screen.

“Wha—why? What’s going on?” Xavier’s voice is eerily calm despite the sounds of all hell breaking loose in the background. “Take a deep breath!”

“Xavier, please! Get out of there! Five Elite class Wanderers are about to—”

It’s too late. The security feed from your camera shuts off. Your eyes dart to the speakers when you hear a pained groan from Xavier followed by crackling static and white noise. Xavier’s communication devices shut off. The screens in front of you turn black, leaving you in complete and utter darkness.

“Baby?” You breathe out.

No response.

An ugly silence falls between you and the computer.

“Xavier?” You shudder, a single tear rolling down your cheek. You close your eyes and gnaw at the inside of your cheek. “Xavier, come in. Come in…please,” your voice cracks. Nausea sweeps over your body. You want to crawl into your body and hide from the world.

Is he…is he gone? He can’t be dead, right? No. No! That’s ridiculous! Xavier always gets back up! He never backs down from a fight, no matter how hard it is!

How can you live in a world that doesn’t have Xavier in it? It’s not a life worth living.

Your eyes go out of focus and you reach for the phone beside you, clumsily dialing Jenna’s number. A quiet cry escapes your lips when she doesn’t pick up after the first ring. The call is sent to voicemail but you immediately dial her number again.

The clear monitors shake when you push away from the desk, running down the Association’s hallway. Other data analysts watch, murmuring amongst themselves as you head towards the elevator. You step inside and press the button that leads to the building’s garage. The elevator drops and you dial Jenna’s number again when she doesn’t pick up for the second time.

“This better be important,” Jenna groans from her side of the call. You gasp and hug the phone to your face, your tears sticking against your phone screen.

“It’s Xavier! He was on patrol and all of his comms cut off and there’s no camera feed to see him and—”

“Woah! Slow down! What happened?” Jenna interrupts you. You slowly inhale and release a shaky exhale, trying your best to stay composed.

“Five Elite class Wanderers spawned where Xavier is. His feed cut out and…and I can’t contact him.”  You can’t believe the words you’re saying. Jenna’s long silence tells you that she can’t believe it either. “Please,” your voice cracks, sobs overtaking your body, “please we need to go save him. I can send your Hunters the coordinates, I just…I need Xavier.”

“Send the coordinates. We’ll get there as soon as we can. Stay at the building in case he contacts you,” Jenna’s response reignites the flame inside your chest. You wipe away tears but shake your head, flinching at the last sentence.

“No, no, I’m sorry but I’m going,” you say as you exit the elevator. You rush to a nearby car, tapping your I.D. card against the glass. It lights up and beeps, unlocking. You pile inside and end the call before Jenna can object.

The first thing you do is shoot off the coordinates to the other Hunters in the Alpha squad. You set the phone down and start the car, the engine roaring to life. You don’t even buckle your seatbelt as the car lurches out of the garage, slipping into the empty streets.

The golden moon hangs low in the sky. There are no clouds and white specks of light litter the dark sky. You release a guttural scream.

Agony. Frustration. Confusion. Anger. Sadness. Denial.

Every single negative emotion you can think of floods throughout your body like a ravenous tsunami. Your lungs squeeze, unable to get any oxygen inside to feed on. Your blurred vision became another obstacle for you to overcome while you drive.

That morning, you and Xavier decided to stay in bed for an extra ten minutes. He held onto you, face snuggled into the crook of your neck, sleepily peppering slow kisses into your soft skin while you giggled at videos on social media. You occasionally showed him a few, earning a half-chuckle, before he began to lightly snore once again.

The day before that, you and Xavier were at the grocery store, buying items and ingredients for an impromptu dinner date. Xavier saw a video of a couple cooking a beautiful steak dinner together and he wanted to try it out with his one and only girl, you. The meal ended up burning and you two went out for ramen noodles instead.

Linkon’s outskirts comes into your field of sight. You roll the window down, ignoring all of Jenna and Andrew’s calls, trying your best to hear any commotion. You hold in your breath, lungs burning, muscles aching.

The only thing you can hear is the howling screams of the wind, ringing inside your ears.

Your grip tightens against the steering wheel and your knuckles turn white. Anxiety won’t let you go any slower, your foot pushing even further down on the gas pedal as you bust through a chained fence. The windshield cracks.

You gasp and the car wobbles. You regain control and gasp. Trembling fingers turn the wheel as the car slides against loose dirt and gravel.

“I’m almost there, Xavier!” You scream over the restless wind.

You have no fighting skills. You know you don’t. Xavier tried his best to teach you a few self-defense moves but you failed quite miserably, unable to throw him down onto the mat out of fear you’d hurt him. His laugh was so full of joy and his smile was even more warm and welcoming. The corners of his eyes wrinkled when he smiled at you, reassuring that no matter what you do, you’d never be able to hurt him.

You suddenly miss the way he lured you back into bed in the mornings. He always made up some excuse that his head hurt or that he feels sick and needs you to feel for his temperature. You always give into him knowing damn well that it’s a lie, a trick to pull you back down into bed after you’ve already showered and got dressed in your uniform.

Will you not be able to see Xavier’s sleepy smile anymore? Who else will burn pancakes when you’re taking a shower because, for once, you were the one who slept in late?

You slam on the breaks when you reach the abandoned lumberyard. The tires screech against the concrete, the faint smell of burnt rubber filling your nostrils. Without thinking, you jump out of the car, running forward and towards the smoke that floats into the air, hidden behind the building. Your feet carry you around the left side of the building, the same route you instructed your boyfriend to take, and listen as a Wanderer screeches.

You hide behind an egregiously large log. Moss grows along the dark brown bark, bugs crawling in and out from the wood’s old crevices. Peeking over the edge, you watch as a blurred figure fights against the last Wanderer. Your heart palpitates inside your chest, skipping beats from nervousness, almost stopping when you hear the rips Xavier’s sword makes.

It’s burly and ginormous. It is covered in blue scales, its wings a lighter blue and thin, the moonlight seeping through the thin layers. A small figure staggers back and forth, sword slicing through the Wanderer’s wings like butter. You gasp and move out from behind the log.

The Wanderer screams, its breath pushing Xavier’s hair off his forehead and into the air. He yells back at it, releasing his pent up anger and frustration. He charges towards the monster and jumps, beams of light escaping from his hands. He blinds the Wanderer and manages to cling onto its back. He digs his sword inside the Wanderer’s body.

The monster throws his head back and screams, gurgling on its own blood and pain. The creature collapses to the ground, Xavier, staying where he is, making sure that the Wanderer doesn’t get up. He sighs and draws his sword from the Wanderer’s long neck, wiping its blood on itself.

“Xavier!” You yell. The figure hesitates in the swing of his sword, just missing the Wanderer’s body. He turns to face you.

Xavier’s body relaxes. His sword sizzles into sparks, disappearing. You fully move out from behind the log and sprint in his direction, unable to stop your body. He hops down from the Wanderer and walks towards you, slightly limping.

His white Hunter’s uniform is battered and torn. His pale skin pokes out from his chest and side, blood seeping through the white fabric on his right bicep. The sight of him breaks your heart. You run faster, your feet barely on the ground, as you fly towards him.

You collide into his body with an ‘oof’ and wrap your arms around his torso. You bury your face into his chest as agonizing sobs leave your body. Xavier holds the back of your head, desperately clinging to you as much as you cling to him.

“I thought you were dead!” You lament against his chest. His body is steady and calm while yours trembles, ready to crumble from the pressure you felt mere seconds before. Xavier’s heart steadily beats inside his chest. It’s like he didn’t just survive a perilous battle against five Elite Wanderers. You pull away and look up at him, a big frown on your face.

“Dead?” His brows furrow. You snuggled into him, trying your best to literally get under his skin. Even then, it won’t be close enough.

“Yeah,” you sniffle, “your comms and camera went out. What else was I supposed to think?”

Xavier blinks. He thinks back to the beginning of the fight and how the first Wanderer knocked him backwards with its tail. The force from the hit destroyed the camera in one go. When the other Wanderers showed up, his wrist watch shattered into a million little pieces after getting smushed between two bodies.

He sighs and kisses the top of your head. You slowly pull your face away, looking up into his baby blues with a frown and tear stained cheeks.

Xavier brushes loose strands of hair out of your face. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile creeping onto his lips. He gently wipes away your tears, your mascara wiping off on the pad of his thumb.

“My Star…” he whispers, “I’m always going to come back to you. Nothing will stop me from coming back to your side. I love you.”

masterlist of works

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, always and forever ࿐‧₊ new beginnings

chapter summary: The team finally gets a lead on Transigen.

word count: 20.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: finally! obviously, if i mention transigen, there's more than likely going to be laura with it!

sorry for posting a little later than normal, i was running errands with my mom then helped her cook dinner. (then watched andor with my dad)

(i didn't realize this chapter was also long, oops-)

warnings/tags: reader wears glasses, fluff, angst, transigen, mentions of experimentation, smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, protective!logan, protective!laura

series masterlist - chapter 13 → chapter 15

“I might have to cancel my session with Bucky.” Jean said, as the team got off the Blackbird. “Might be here for a while.”

“Or it’ll just be another dead end.” Kitty retorted.

“I think we can all agree that things are better without the Avengers in the mansion.” Scott spoke, leading the team. “Don’t have to deal with Stark’s incessant ego.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Logan muttered.

After months of searching, Tony and Hank found a lead: a pharmaceutical company in Mexico City, rumored to be a front for illegal experiments conducted by Transigen. It was tenuous at first, whispers of missing kids and shipments of questionable materials, but it was enough for the team to move in.

The team split into smaller groups upon entering the facility. Logan led one group to handle security while Jean, Scott, and Ororo focused on evacuating any innocent workers or bystanders. You were paired with Kitty, tasked with finding the information room and gathering data on Transigen’s activities.

“Stay close,” Kitty said, her voice soft as the two of you crept down a sterile, dimly lit hallway. “The lab should be just up ahead.”

“I’m right behind you,” you whispered, clutching the strap of your small bag, which held the portable hard drive Hank had given you. The soft hum of machines and the faint murmur of voices in the distance made your stomach churn.

The information room was easy enough to locate, its doors marked with a keypad. Kitty phased the two of you inside effortlessly. The room was cluttered with monitors, hard drives, and endless rows of filing cabinets.

“This place screams ‘villain HQ,’” Kitty muttered, already scanning the room for anything valuable. “Get the drives. I’ll keep watch.”

You nodded, moving to one of the terminals. As you plugged in the hard drive and started copying files, your hands trembled slightly. The thought of what Transigen could be doing here was enough to make your stomach turn, but you tried to focus.

“Almost done,” you whispered after a few minutes, glancing over your shoulder at Kitty.

Her brow furrowed as she stood near the door, her head tilting slightly. “Wait here,” she said, her voice low. “I hear something. I’ll check it out.”

“Be careful,” you urged, watching as she phased through the wall and disappeared down the hall. The silence that followed was oppressive, broken only by the faint whir of the computer transferring data.

Suddenly, the door burst open. Your head snapped up, heart pounding as three armed men stormed into the room.

“Hey! What are you—” Your voice faltered as one of them grabbed your arm roughly, yanking you away from the terminal.

Panic flared, but you reacted instinctively, grabbing the nearest object—a keyboard—and smashing it against the man’s head. He stumbled back with a grunt but recovered quickly, his grip tightening as he shoved you against the wall.

“Stay still,” he barked, his voice cold.

You struggled, your breathing ragged, but you weren’t a fighter—not like the others. Just as fear began to take hold, a sharp, wet sound cut through the air, followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor.

Your captor released you abruptly, staggering back with a strangled gasp. In the dim light, you saw her—a small girl, no older than four, her dark eyes gleaming with a feral intensity. Two sharp claws extended from each tiny hand, coated in blood.

“Wh—” You couldn’t finish the thought as the girl moved swiftly, taking down the other two men with alarming precision. When the last one hit the ground, she stood still, her small chest rising and falling rapidly.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then her gaze shifted to you, wary but curious.

“Hey,” you said softly, raising your hands in a non-threatening gesture. Your voice trembled slightly, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The girl didn’t respond, her claws retracting slowly. She took a tentative step toward you, her expression guarded.

“Y/N!” Kitty’s voice came from the hall as she phased through the wall, her eyes widening at the scene. “What happened?”

“She… she saved me,” you stammered, gesturing to the girl, who was now watching Kitty with the same wary expression.

Kitty crouched slightly, her voice gentle. “Hey there, sweetie. We’re not here to hurt you, okay? Are you alone?”

The girl didn’t answer, but her posture softened just enough to suggest she wasn’t about to attack. You exchanged a glance with Kitty, your heart still racing.

“We need to get her out of here,” you said quietly. “And the others, if there are more.”

Kitty nodded, glancing at the computer. “Grab the drive. I’ll comm the team.”

You pulled the hard drive from the terminal, stuffing it into your bag. The girl’s gaze followed your every movement, and as you turned back toward her, she stepped closer, almost as if seeking reassurance.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, crouching to her level. “You’re safe now.”

Her small hand reached out, gripping the edge of your sleeve tightly. You froze, the weight of her touch grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

Ororo spoke through comms, “we got the kids. Y/N, do you have the data?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good. Everyone meet up at the Blackbird.” Scott said.

You slowly crouched down, “is it okay if I pick you up?”

The young girl stood still for a moment before slowly nodding. You picked her up, settling her on your hip. “Let’s go, Kitty.”

---

By the time you and Kitty got to the Blackbird, Scott and Ororo were already there, a group of small children on the jet. “Jean? How is it going?” Ororo asked over comms.

“Good. Getting the last nurse out.” Jean responded.

“Logan?” Ororo questioned.

“Took care of the men. On our way.”

You sat the little girl down on the bench at the back of the jet. Her small hands clenched the fabric of your sleeve before you could move away, her grip surprisingly strong for someone so small. You paused, crouching to her level again.

“It’s okay,” you said gently, meeting her eyes. They were dark and intense, scanning your face like she was trying to decide if she could trust you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Her grip loosened slightly but didn’t let go entirely. Kitty stepped closer, keeping her voice soft. “Y/N, is she hurt? Did you check her?”

You glanced back at Kitty, shaking your head. “She doesn’t seem hurt. I think she’s just… scared.” Turning back to the girl, you spoke softly, “are you hurt? Do you need anything?”

The girl remained silent, her gaze shifting between you and Kitty. She shook her head once, almost imperceptibly.

“Hey,” Logan’s voice cut through the quiet as he stepped onto the jet. He was covered in blood and dirt, his knuckles raw, but his expression softened when he saw you crouched beside the girl. “What’s goin’ on?”

“We found her in the lab,” Kitty explained, stepping aside to let Logan approach. “She saved Y/N. Took out three guys all on her own.”

Logan’s eyes flicked to the girl, who stiffened under his scrutiny but didn’t look away. “That so?” he said, his tone gentler than you’d expected. He crouched beside you, his larger frame somehow non-threatening as he looked at her. “You’re a tough one, huh?”

The girl didn’t respond, but her small hand tightened on your sleeve again. You glanced at Logan, unsure what to say.

“She hasn’t said anything,” you explained softly. “I don’t think she trusts us yet.”

Logan nodded, his eyes still on her. “That’s okay. She’s been through hell—probably doesn’t know who’s safe.” His gaze flicked to you, his expression unreadable. “She seems to trust you, though.”

You felt a flush creep up your neck, unsure how to respond. “I think she’s just scared,” you murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I don’t think she’s used to… this.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, studying the girl. “She’ll come around.” His voice dropped, meant only for you. “You’ve got a way with people, darlin’. Just keep doin’ what you’re doin’.”

Before you could respond, Scott’s voice carried from the front of the jet. “Everyone’s onboard. Let’s move!”

“Hang tight,” Logan said to the girl before straightening. He glanced at you one more time before heading to the cockpit.

You turned back to the girl, still crouched at her level. “We’re going to a safe place now,” you said softly. “You’ll be okay. I promise.”

She looked at you for a long moment before finally nodding, her grip on your sleeve loosening but not letting go entirely. You sat beside her on the bench, letting her hold on as the jet lifted into the air. Kitty took the seat across from you, her gaze flicking between the girl and you.

“You’re good with kids,” Kitty said quietly, offering a small smile.

You gave a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know about that. She just… needs someone right now.”

“Well, she’s lucky you were there.” Kitty leaned back, her expression softening. “She wouldn’t even let me get close.”

You glanced at the girl, who was now leaning slightly against your side. Her tiny frame felt so fragile, yet you’d seen her take down three grown men with ease. The thought sent a shiver through you. What had they done to her in that lab?

Logan’s voice came over the comms. “We’ll be back at the mansion in a couple hours. Hank, make sure the med bay’s ready.”

Hank’s reply crackled through. “Already on it. I’ll meet you there.”

As the jet settled into its flight path, you leaned your head back against the wall, your thoughts swirling. The girl shifted closer, resting her head against your arm. You glanced down at her, your chest tightening at the sight.

You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

For the first time, she seemed to relax, her small body leaning into yours completely. You stayed like that, holding her close as the jet carried you all home.

---

The team was going through the files, trying to find out who each kid was when you realized something. In the files, every kid had a ‘Source DNA’ section. When you got to the young girl’s file—Laura’s—you saw something.

Source DNA: James Howlett

You stared at the screen, your breath catching in your throat. James Howlett. Logan. The realization hit like a weight pressing on your chest, and for a moment, the sounds of the bustling mansion around you faded.

“Y/N?” Jean’s voice brought you back, her hand gently resting on your shoulder. “What is it?”

You turned to her, unsure how to put it into words. “This girl—Laura. Her DNA… it’s Logan’s.”

Jean’s brows knitted in confusion before her eyes widened in understanding. “You’re sure?”

You nodded, pointing at the section of the file displayed on the screen. “It’s right here. ‘Source DNA: James Howlett.’ They… they used him to create her.”

Jean leaned closer, reading over the lines with a growing sense of dread. “She’s his daughter. Or… a clone, maybe. Either way, she’s connected to him.”

“She’s just a kid, Jean,” you whispered, glancing toward the med bay where the children, including Laura, were being examined. “And after everything she’s been through—”

“Does Logan know?” Jean asked, cutting you off gently.

“No. Not yet.”

Jean hesitated, her gaze searching yours. “Are you going to tell him?”

You opened your mouth to respond but stopped short. The truth was, you weren’t sure how to approach Logan with this. He’d been through enough already. Adding something like this…

“I will,” you said finally, though the thought made your stomach twist. “I just need to figure out how.”

Jean gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You don’t have to do this alone, Y/N. I’ll help however I can.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, your thoughts already swirling with how Logan might react.

---

The medbay was quiet when you walked in, the soft beeping of monitors filling the space. Logan stood off to the side, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on Laura, who sat perched on one of the examination tables. She was hunched forward, her small hands clutching a blanket someone had draped over her shoulders.

She’d been like that since you returned to the mansion, sticking close to you whenever possible and barely speaking a word to anyone. You didn’t blame her—whatever had been done to her in that lab would take time to heal, physically and emotionally.

Logan’s eyes flicked to you as you approached, his expression unreadable. “What’s goin’ on?” he asked, his voice low.

You glanced at Laura, then back at Logan. “Can we talk? Somewhere private?”

His brow furrowed, but he nodded, following you out into the hallway. Once the door closed behind you, he turned to face you, his arms still crossed. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Logan… I found something in the files we recovered.”

His jaw tightened. “What kind of somethin’?”

“It’s about Laura.”

At the mention of her name, his posture stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What about her?”

You hesitated, unsure how to phrase it without overwhelming him. “They used your DNA to create her. She’s… she’s your daughter, Logan. Or as close to one as she can be.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, the weight of your words sinking in. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

You reached into your bag, pulling out a printed copy of the relevant section of Laura’s file and handing it to him. “It’s all here. She was part of their experiments—Transigen used your DNA as the base for hers.”

Logan scanned the page, his grip tightening as he read. His breathing grew heavier, his shoulders rising and falling with each exhale. “They… they did this to her? To me?”

“Logan,” you said softly, stepping closer. “She’s been through so much already, but she’s here now. She’s safe. And she’s looking to you, whether she realizes it or not.”

He let the paper fall to his side, his eyes distant. “She’s just a kid,” he muttered, almost to himself. “A kid who didn’t ask for any of this.”

“No, she didn’t,” you agreed. “But she’s here now. And she needs someone she can trust.”

Logan’s gaze met yours, and for a moment, you saw the conflict in his eyes—the fear, the anger, and something softer, something that made your chest ache.

“What the hell am I supposed to do, Y/N?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your chest tightened at the vulnerability in his tone. Logan was always the rock—the one who took the hits and kept standing. Seeing him this unsure, this raw, was rare. You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“She doesn’t need you to have all the answers right now, Logan,” you said softly. “She just needs to know she’s safe, that someone’s there for her. That someone cares.”

He let out a heavy breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. “What if I mess this up? What if I can’t be what she needs?”

“You won’t mess this up,” you reassured him, squeezing his arm. “You’ve always been good at protecting the people you care about. And she’s already looking to you—even if she doesn’t know it yet. You just have to show her she’s not alone.”

Logan looked away, his jaw clenching. “She’s been through hell, Y/N. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Start small,” you suggested. “Be present. Talk to her, even if she doesn’t talk back. Let her see that you’re not going anywhere.”

He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is… it’s a lot.”

“I know,” you said gently. “But you’re not in this alone. I’ll be here to help, and so will the rest of the team. You don’t have to do this by yourself.”

Logan looked back at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “Thanks, darlin’. I mean it.”

You gave him a small smile. “She’s waiting for you. Go sit with her for a bit. Even if you don’t say much, it’ll mean a lot to her.”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. Without another word, he turned and walked back into the med bay.

You watched him go, your heart heavy with a mix of emotions. You knew this wouldn’t be easy for him—or for Laura—but if anyone could handle this, it was Logan. He’d faced more than his share of battles, and this one, though different, was just as important.

---

Later that day, after Rogue and Jubilee finished setting up rooms for the kids, you walked Laura to hers. She stayed close to your side, her small hand gripping the hem of your sleeve. The quiet of the hallway felt heavy, but you didn’t push her to speak. She wasn’t ready, and you understood that.

“This is your room,” you said softly, opening the door to a cozy space with a twin bed, a small desk, and a chair by the window. Jubilee had left a few stuffed animals on the bed, hoping to make it feel less clinical.

Laura stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room like she was assessing it for threats. She still hadn’t let go of your sleeve.

“It’s just you in here,” you said, crouching to her level. “No one will bother you unless you want them to. You’re safe.”

She glanced at you, her dark eyes searching your face. The intensity of her gaze always caught you off guard—there was so much there for someone so young.

“You can stay here for as long as you want,” you continued, your voice gentle. “No one’s going to make you leave.”

Laura finally let go of your sleeve but didn’t step away. Instead, she reached out and tugged lightly at the edge of your glasses, her expression softening with curiosity.

“Careful,” you said with a small smile. “I kind of need those to see.”

Her lips twitched, just a hint of a smile, but she said nothing.

“Do you want me to stay for a bit?” you asked, tilting your head.

She nodded quickly, her grip shifting to your hand this time.

“Okay,” you said, letting her lead you to the bed. She climbed onto it, sitting cross-legged, while you settled beside her.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, the soft hum of the mansion filling the quiet. Laura reached for one of the stuffed animals—a small, floppy bunny—and turned it over in her hands like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

“You can keep it,” you said. “Or any of the others. They’re yours now.”

She hesitated before hugging the rabbit to her chest.

“You know,” you started, keeping your tone light, “when I first came here, I was scared too. It felt like… too much all at once. But then I realized everyone here wanted to help me. No one’s going to hurt you here, Laura. I promise.”

Her gaze flicked to you at the sound of her name, but she didn’t speak. You didn’t mind. This kind of trust took time, and you’d give her as much of it as she needed.

---

Over the next few days, Laura continued to follow you around with the new addition of the stuffed grey bunny in her arms.

You picked Laura up and set her on the stool at the kitchen island, grabbing a bowl, a box of cereal, and the gallon of milk. After pouring her a generous serving of cereal and adding just the right amount of milk, you slid the bowl across the island to her. Laura hesitated for a moment, her dark eyes darting between you and the bowl, before reaching out to pull it closer. The grey bunny she’d been carrying for days was perched protectively on her lap, its floppy ears tucked neatly under her arm.

“You’re getting the hang of this place,” you said lightly, leaning against the counter as you watched her. “Cereal’s a favorite around here. Easy, no cooking required. Even Logan eats it sometimes.”

Laura didn’t respond, but her eyes flickered up to you briefly before she dipped her spoon into the bowl.

You let the silence linger, knowing she wasn’t ready to talk yet. That was okay. Her comfort mattered more than filling the quiet. She’d been through so much, and pushing her to open up too soon would only make things harder for her.

The sound of footsteps drew your attention, and Logan entered the kitchen, his gaze immediately landing on Laura. He gave a slight nod, acknowledging her presence, before looking at you. “She eatin’?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded. “She’s doing okay.”

Logan’s brows furrowed, his eyes lingering on Laura as she carefully scooped another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. He looked out of place in the brightly lit kitchen, his rugged demeanor a sharp contrast to the homey atmosphere. But when his gaze softened just a fraction as he watched Laura, something in your chest tightened.

“She’s stickin’ close to you,” he murmured, stepping closer so only you could hear.

“She feels safe,” you replied, keeping your voice equally quiet. “It’s not surprising after what she’s been through.”

Logan grunted, a sound that could’ve meant anything, but his eyes didn’t leave Laura. “She always hold onto that thing?” He nodded toward the bunny in Laura’s lap.

“Everywhere she goes,” you said with a small smile. “Jubilee left it on her bed the first night. It’s hers now.”

Logan crossed his arms, leaning against the counter beside you. “She talk to you yet?”

You shook your head. “Not yet. But she’ll get there. It’s only been a few days. She’s still figuring out who to trust.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he looked down at his boots. “What if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” you said firmly, nudging his arm with your elbow. “She’s already trusting you more than you realize. She watches you, Logan. When you’re in the room, her eyes are on you. She might not say it, but she sees you.”

His gaze flicked to you, a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes. You leaned forward and kissed his cheek before stepping away to make your tea. Logan stayed where he was, arms crossed, watching you move about the kitchen.

“You know,” he said after a moment, his voice gruff, “it doesn’t get easier, lettin’ people in. Never has for me.”

You stirred honey into your tea, the soft clink of the spoon the only sound for a moment. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once, Logan. She’s just a kid. She doesn’t need perfect—just someone who’s there.”

He sighed heavily and leaned against the counter, his fingers drumming against the edge. “Yeah, well, ‘there’ ain’t somethin’ I’ve always been good at.”

You turned to face him, cradling the warm mug in your hands. “But you are now. You’re here, Logan. That’s what matters.”

---

“Do you mind if I do some tests, Laura?” Jean asked. “I just need a few blood samples and a quick scan. Is that okay?”

Laura didn’t move for a moment before nodding, her eyes shifting toward you where you stood at the far side of the med bay. Her grip on the bunny in her lap tightened as she glanced between you and Jean, her expression unchanging but her intent clear.

You hesitated, understanding immediately what she wanted. She didn’t say a word, but you could feel the unspoken plea in her gaze.

“Hang on,” you said softly, stepping closer. Jean glanced at you with a knowing look as you moved to Laura’s side.

“You want me to stay here with you?” you asked gently, crouching so you were at her eye level. Laura gave a small nod, her dark hair falling into her face as she held the stuffed bunny closer to her chest.

“Okay,” you said, offering a reassuring smile. “I’ll stay.”

Jean set down the tablet she was holding, her tone calm and steady. “That’s perfectly fine, Laura. Y/N can stay with you while we run a couple of tests. I’ll be quick, and you won’t feel much.”

You pulled up a chair next to the exam table, close enough for Laura to feel your presence but giving her space. She kept her eyes on you, her small hand reaching out to lightly touch the sleeve of your shirt. You placed your hand over hers briefly, giving it a light squeeze before letting go.

“You’re really brave, you know,” you said quietly as Jean prepared the equipment. “This is just a little check-up, and then we’ll be done. You’re doing great.”

Laura didn’t respond, but her grip on the bunny relaxed slightly.

Jean’s voice was gentle as she approached with a syringe. “Laura, I’m just going to take a tiny bit of blood from your arm. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Laura stiffened at the sight of the needle, her knuckles whitening as she clutched the stuffed bunny.

“Hey,” you said softly, leaning closer to her. “Look at me, not the needle, okay?”

Her eyes darted back to yours, and you gave her an encouraging smile. “That’s it. Just focus on me. We’ll be done before you know it.”

Jean worked quickly and efficiently, the needle in and out of Laura’s arm within seconds. “All done,” she said, capping the syringe and stepping back. “You did great.”

Laura didn’t look away from you until Jean had moved the equipment aside. Her body relaxed by fractions, though she still stayed close, her expression guarded.

“See?” you said with a warm smile. “Told you it’d be quick.”

Jean knelt beside her, a gentle look on her face. “Laura, I’m going to do a quick scan of your vitals now. It’s just a machine—it won’t hurt at all. Is that okay?”

Laura hesitated, then nodded slightly, her eyes flicking to you again.

“I’ll stay right here,” you assured her.

The scanner emitted a low hum as Jean moved it over Laura’s body, checking for injuries or abnormalities. Laura stayed perfectly still, her trust placed solely in you to keep her grounded.

When Jean finished, she offered a smile. “You’re all set, Laura. You’re perfectly healthy, just like I thought.”

Laura didn’t react immediately, but she turned slightly to face you, her hand still brushing the fabric of your sleeve.

“You did amazing,” you said softly. “I’m proud of you.”

Jean rose to her feet, giving you both a gentle smile. “I’ll give you two some space. If you need me, I’ll be just outside.”

Once the door clicked shut, you turned back to Laura. “See? Nothing to it.”

Laura tilted her head, her expression unreadable as she studied you. Finally, she moved the bunny onto her lap and tugged at the edge of your glasses again.

“You like messing with these, huh?” you said, adjusting them back into place with a small laugh. “I don’t know if they suit me, but I can’t see much without them.”

Her lips twitched—just the faintest hint of a smile—as she dropped her hand.

As Jean walked out of the room, she found Logan leaning against the wall just outside, his arms crossed and his expression neutral—though there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. He straightened slightly as she approached.

“How’d it go?” he asked, his voice gruff but quieter than usual.

Jean glanced back toward the med bay door before answering. “She did great. A little nervous, but Y/N stayed with her the whole time. Helped keep her calm.”

Logan nodded, his gaze shifting toward the closed door. “She say anything?”

Jean shook her head. “Not yet. But it’s not surprising, considering what she’s been through. It’ll take time.”

Logan let out a low grunt, running a hand over his face. “She’s got good instincts, though. Trusts Y/N already.”

Jean smiled faintly. “Can’t blame her for that. Y/N has a way of making people feel safe.” Her tone softened as she added, “She’s good with the kids. Always has been.”

Logan’s lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile, but the weight of the situation held it back. “Yeah. She’s got a gift for it.”

Jean studied him for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly. “How are you holding up with all of this? I know it’s a lot, Logan.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening. “Ain’t about me. It’s about makin’ sure these kids are okay.”

Jean nodded, though she didn’t look entirely convinced. “Well, if you need to talk—”

“I’m fine,” he cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Just want to make sure Laura’s got what she needs.”

Jean held up her hands in a placating gesture. “Fair enough. I’ll let you know if I learn anything else. For now, she’s physically fine, which is a relief.”

Logan gave a curt nod, his attention drifting back to the med bay door. After a beat, he pushed off the wall. “Think I’ll check in on ‘em.”

Jean stepped aside, watching him with a knowing look as he walked into the room.

Inside, you were still seated next to Laura, who now had her bunny balanced carefully on her knees. She didn’t look up immediately when Logan entered, but her posture stiffened slightly, and her eyes darted toward the door.

“You doin’ okay, darlin’?” Logan asked, his tone softer than usual as he directed the question at you.

You glanced over your shoulder at him, offering a small smile. “Yeah, we’re good. Jean finished up, and Laura was a champ.” Turning back to the girl, you added, “Weren’t you?”

Laura didn’t respond verbally, but her grip on the bunny eased just a little.

Logan moved closer, crouching down so he was at eye level with her. “Y’know,” he said, his voice low and steady, “I’ve seen a lot of tough people in my time. You’re up there with the best of ‘em.”

Laura’s eyes flicked to his face, studying him for a moment before her focus returned to the bunny.

Logan didn’t push, instead glancing at you. “She give you any trouble?”

You shook your head. “None at all. She just needed a little reassurance. Right, Laura?”

The girl hesitated before giving the faintest nod.

Logan’s gaze softened, though he didn’t say anything. After a moment, he reached out, his hand resting lightly on the edge of the table. “You let me or Y/N know if you need anything, alright? You’re not alone anymore.”

Laura’s eyes lingered on him briefly before shifting back to you. She seemed to take comfort in your presence, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction more.

“She’s already made a lot of progress,” you said quietly, looking at Logan. “It’s just going to take time.”

Logan nodded, his eyes never leaving Laura. “Yeah. Time.” He straightened up, resting a hand on your shoulder briefly before stepping back. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

As he left, Laura reached out again, tugging lightly at the sleeve of your shirt. You turned back to her, giving her a warm smile. “You’re doing so well, Laura. One step at a time, okay?”

She didn’t say anything, but for the first time, she didn’t look away. Instead, she leaned ever so slightly toward you, the bunny still cradled in her lap.

---

During the night, while Logan lay on his side of the bed with you tucked against him, the quiet creak of the bedroom door broke the silence. Logan’s senses pricked immediately. He shifted slightly, his eyes opening just enough to spot a small figure in the dim light. Laura.

She padded softly toward your side of the bed, her stuffed bunny clutched tightly in one hand. She paused near you, standing still for a long moment as if debating what to do. Normally, you would’ve stirred by now—your light sleeping had made you the first to notice her during previous nights. But tonight, you were sound asleep, your steady breathing undisturbed.

Laura hesitated, taking a small step back as if deciding to leave. Logan’s low, gravelly voice broke the quiet, gentle but firm enough to catch her attention.

“You wanna come over here, kid?”

Laura froze, her eyes flicking toward him. For a moment, she didn’t move, her expression unreadable in the dim light. Logan stayed where he was, his tone soft but not insistent. “It’s alright. You can come here if you want.”

After a long pause, Laura nodded just slightly, the movement almost imperceptible. Slowly, she made her way around the bed to his side. Logan sat up slightly, offering her his hand. “C’mere,” he said, his voice steady.

She hesitated again before taking his hand. Logan helped her climb up onto the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. Laura settled beside him, her stuffed bunny still clutched tightly. She didn’t say anything, but her posture was tense, her small body rigid as she perched near him.

Logan glanced at her, his rough exterior softening in a way he reserved for only a select few. “Nightmare?” he asked quietly.

Laura nodded, her grip on the bunny tightening. Logan didn’t press for details; he simply shifted slightly, giving her space but staying close enough to offer reassurance. After a moment, Laura leaned against him cautiously, her small frame relaxing just a fraction.

The two of them sat in silence, the room dim and still. Logan rested a hand lightly on the bed near her, careful not to overwhelm her. After some time, the tension in Laura’s body eased further, and she leaned into him fully, her head resting against his chest. Logan’s arm settled around her, his movements slow and unhurried, as if afraid to spook her.

Gradually, Laura’s breathing evened out, and she drifted into sleep. Logan stayed awake for a while longer, his hand resting protectively on her back as he listened to the steady rhythm of her breathing.

---

When you woke the next morning, the first thing you noticed was the warmth beside you. Turning over with a sleepy yawn, you were met with a sight that made your heart ache in the best way.

Laura was curled up against Logan, her small body tucked securely against his chest. Her bunny was still clutched in one hand, and Logan’s arm was draped loosely around her, holding her close. Both of them were sound asleep, their breathing synchronized.

You couldn’t help but smile at the scene, your heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of love and tenderness. For a moment, you simply watched them, unwilling to disturb the quiet peace of the moment.

Finally, you reached out gently, brushing a hand over Logan’s arm. His eyes opened slowly, his gaze immediately meeting yours. He gave you a small, tired smile before glancing down at Laura, still nestled against him.

“She had a nightmare,” he murmured, his voice low to avoid waking her.

You nodded, your voice just as soft. “And she came to find us.”

Logan’s lips twitched slightly. “Yeah. Guess she’s startin’ to trust us.”

“She already trusts you,” you said warmly, your eyes lingering on the two of them. “That’s obvious.”

Logan didn’t respond, but the faintest hint of emotion flickered across his face. He glanced down at Laura again, his hand gently brushing over her hair in a protective gesture.

“She’s just a kid,” he said quietly after a moment, his voice heavy with unspoken thoughts.

You placed a hand over his, giving it a light squeeze. “She’s safe with us, Logan. She’ll figure that out in time.”

He nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “Yeah. She will.”

---

While the team fought in the Danger Room, you took up your usual spot observing from the deck, keeping an eye on the controls.

Laura was with you, sitting on your lap with her stuffed bunny as you observed the Danger Room training session from the control deck. Her small hands gripped the bunny tightly as her eyes followed the action below, her focus intense. Despite how quiet she was, you could feel how closely she was watching everything—soaking in the details of every move the team made.

“Pretty cool, huh?” you said softly, glancing down at her. Laura didn’t respond, but her grip on the bunny loosened a bit as her dark eyes flicked up to yours for a brief moment.

You leaned back slightly in the chair, your hand resting on the edge of the console. “This is where we train to use our abilities,” you explained, gesturing toward the simulated battle below. “It helps keep everyone safe out there in the real world.”

Laura’s gaze drifted to your hand and then back to the training floor. She fidgeted slightly, her brow furrowing, before her hand tugged lightly at the fabric of your sleeve.

“What’s up?” you asked gently, tilting your head to look at her.

She hesitated for a long moment, clutching her bunny to her chest before reaching out tentatively. She pointed at the scene below, where Scott and Storm were sparring, then back at you. Her silent question hung in the air: what about you?

You smiled softly, understanding what she was trying to ask. “Me?” you said, tapping your chest lightly. “I’ve got abilities too.”

Laura shifted on your lap, watching you closely now. Her intensity was unwavering, and it was clear she wanted you to explain.

“Well,” you began, keeping your tone light but sincere, “I can control time. Kind of like pressing pause or rewind on a movie—except it’s real life.” You held up a hand, flexing your fingers slowly. “I don’t use it much unless I really need to. It’s not the kind of thing you show off unless it’s important.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to piece together what that meant. Her small fingers toyed with the ear of her stuffed bunny as she continued to stare.

“Here,” you said softly, leaning forward. “I can show you something small. Just watch.”

You reached for the pen on the console in front of you and gave it a light push, letting it roll toward the edge. Before it could fall, you lifted your hand subtly, pausing time just long enough to stop its descent mid-air. Laura’s sharp eyes widened as she noticed the pen floating in place. With a small wave of your hand, time resumed, and the pen clattered onto the floor.

She turned her gaze back to you, her expression still guarded but undeniably curious.

“See? Nothing too flashy, but it’s handy,” you said with a warm smile. “I promise I’ll teach you all about it someday if you want.”

Laura blinked, tilting her head as though considering your words. Then she did something that caught you off guard—she leaned forward slightly and tugged the fabric of your sleeve closer, resting her head briefly against your arm before pulling back. It wasn’t much, but you could feel the quiet trust forming between the two of you.

You placed a hand lightly on her back. “You’re safe here,” you said softly. “You’re part of our family now.”

Her lips pressed into a firm line, but she didn’t pull away from your touch. If anything, she seemed to lean just a little closer.

Below, Logan stepped off the mat after wrapping up his turn in the Danger Room, his eyes immediately finding yours up on the observation deck. He gave a small nod, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might’ve been a smile. You waved slightly, letting him know everything was fine.

Laura turned her head slightly, catching the exchange, but she didn’t react. Instead, she leaned back against your chest, the bunny tucked securely in her arms.

“You’re doing great, Laura,” you murmured, keeping your voice low and reassuring. “One step at a time, right?”

She didn’t reply, but the faintest hint of a smile flickered on her face. It wasn’t much, but it was progress. And for now, that was more than enough.

---

You decided to grade papers in your classroom over your office, giving Laura the ability to look at and mess around with things around the room, like right now with your laser pointer.

Rogue and Jubilee were in your classroom as well, though they weren’t your students anymore they sometimes came by to check in or hang out.

Laura pointed the laser at Jubilee, the red dot landing squarely on her hand as the younger mutant gestured animatedly. Jubilee paused mid-sentence, her eyes catching the red dot. With a dramatic gasp, she looked up at Laura, who sat perched on your lap, her face as impassive as ever.

"Is that... a laser pointer?" Jubilee asked, grinning as she held up her hand to ‘catch’ the dot. She waved her fingers back and forth, moving it like a cat trying to catch a toy.

You glanced down at Laura, whose small hand gripped the pointer tightly. Her dark eyes flicked from Jubilee’s hand to her face, her expression unreadable. A faint twitch of her lips might’ve been amusement—or just concentration.

“Laura,” you said softly, an affectionate lilt in your voice, “are you messing with Jubilee?”

Laura glanced at you briefly before pointing the laser at Rogue instead, the red dot landing on her shoulder. Rogue turned her head, furrowing her brow as she noticed.

“What the—?” Rogue swatted at the dot, looking up toward you with a raised eyebrow. “Y/N, is this your doing?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Not me. Looks like Laura’s having some fun.”

Rogue chuckled softly, folding her arms as she leaned against the edge of your desk. “Well, she’s got good aim. Better than most adults I know.”

Laura tilted her head slightly, as if acknowledging the compliment, before turning off the laser and tucking it into her pocket. Her eyes shifted between Rogue and Jubilee, lingering on them with quiet curiosity.

“She’s sizing us up,” Jubilee teased, wiggling her fingers dramatically at Laura. “What’re you thinking, kid? Who’s cooler—me or Rogue?”

“Not a fair competition,” Rogue said with a playful smirk. “We all know I’d win.”

Laura didn’t respond, her gaze darting between the two women. Then, she tugged gently at your sleeve, her silent signal that she wanted your attention.

“What’s up?” you asked, leaning slightly to meet her gaze.

Laura pointed at Rogue, her finger steady as she tapped the air. Then she pointed at Jubilee. Her expression was serious, her question clear even without words: what are their powers?

You smiled at her perceptiveness, then looked up at the two women. “She wants to know about your abilities.”

Jubilee’s face lit up. “Oh, now this is my kind of conversation.” She raised her hands, conjuring a burst of multicolored sparks that crackled and popped like tiny fireworks. “I make things go boom. Pretty cool, huh?”

Laura’s eyes widened slightly, her interest unmistakable. She leaned forward just a touch, watching the sparks fizzle out in Jubilee’s hands.

Rogue smiled softly, lowering her gloves to reveal her bare hands. “Mine’s a little different,” she said, her tone gentler. “When I touch someone, I absorb their powers, memories—everything. It’s a lot, but it’s helped me save a life or two.”

Laura’s gaze lingered on Rogue’s hands before shifting back to her face. She tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly as if processing this new information.

“She’s just curious,” you said, running a hand lightly over Laura’s back. “She’s still getting used to all of this.”

“Totally understandable,” Jubilee said, leaning against the desk. “It’s a lot for anyone, let alone a kid.”

Rogue nodded. “She’s got instincts, though. You can tell she’s sharp.”

Laura’s hand moved to the laser pointer in her pocket again, her fingers brushing over it absentmindedly. You could feel the faint tension in her body, the way she stayed close to you, as if you were her anchor in this unfamiliar environment.

Jubilee crouched slightly, her tone warm and playful. “Hey, Laura. If you ever wanna learn how to make stuff explode, let me know. I’ve got the best fireworks tutorial in the mansion.”

Laura’s lips twitched—just barely—but she didn’t pull away or retreat, which was progress in itself. You gave her a reassuring squeeze, your heart swelling with quiet pride at how far she’d come in such a short time.

---

Laura was good at cards. One night, while the team gathered around in the common room, Rogue asked Laura if she would like Remy to teach her how to play cards. Logan resisted but gave in when Laura willingly left your side to sit by Rogue as Remy taught her.

Laura sat cross-legged on the floor, her small figure hunched over the deck of cards as Remy dealt another round. The room hummed with conversation, laughter, and the occasional clink of mugs, but Laura seemed entirely focused on the game. Her dark eyes scanned the cards in her hand, her face giving nothing away.

You watched from the couch, glasses perched on your nose as you graded a stack of physics tests. Logan sat beside you, his arm draped across the back of the couch, his attention split between Laura and the hockey game playing on the TV.

“She’s got him sweatin’,” Logan muttered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

You glanced over, catching the way Remy’s usually confident demeanor had shifted. He leaned forward slightly, shuffling the cards in his hand as he studied Laura with newfound caution. Rogue stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the game with a soft, amused smile.

“Alright, petite,” Remy said, tapping his cards on the table. “Let’s see what you got.”

Laura set her cards down with deliberate precision, revealing a winning hand. A small murmur of approval rippled through the room as she calmly collected the pile of coins and trinkets in the center of the table—among them, Remy’s fancy pen and his lucky die.

“Mon dieu,” Remy muttered, running a hand through his hair. “This one’s ruthless.”

“She’s just playin’ smart,” Rogue teased, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “Don’t get all huffy just ‘cause a kid’s got the better of you.”

Logan chuckled under his breath, leaning back. “She’s got instincts. You should’ve seen her figure out poker a few weeks ago. Took Jubilee’s snacks, too.”

You couldn’t help but smile, setting your pen down for a moment. Laura’s serious expression hadn’t changed, but you could see the faintest glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes as she added her winnings to a small pile beside her.

“Alright, that’s it,” Remy said, holding up his hands. “I’m out before I lose my coat. Ain’t no beatin’ you, petite.”

Laura glanced at him briefly, her expression unreadable as she shifted the cards into a neat pile. She looked over at Rogue, then at you, as if gauging her next move.

“Nice haul,” you said, your tone warm and encouraging. “You’re really good at this.”

She looked at you for a moment, then nodded, the faintest hint of pride in her posture as she pocketed the pen and die. You felt Logan’s hand squeeze your shoulder gently, his way of silently sharing the moment with you.

Rogue crouched down beside Laura, her tone light. “You gonna go easy on me if I play a round with you, or you takin’ me for everything I’ve got, too?”

Laura tilted her head slightly, considering, before holding out the deck of cards toward Rogue. It wasn’t a verbal answer, but it was as close to an invitation as anyone could get.

“She’s got the hang of this place,” Logan murmured, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Good thing, too. She’s tough, but it’s nice seein’ her relax some.”

You glanced at him, your heart warming at the rare softness in his tone. “She’s not just tough,” you replied quietly, watching as Laura dealt the cards with practiced efficiency. “She’s brilliant. Just needs time to find her rhythm.”

Logan leaned in slightly, brushing a kiss against your temple. “She’ll get there. She’s got you, after all.”

Before you could respond, Jubilee’s voice cut through the room, dramatic as ever. “Alright, who’s ready for movie night? We’re watching Spaceballs and there’s popcorn in the kitchen!”

Logan groaned, but there was no real complaint in it. “Again? Don’t you kids know any other movies?”

“It’s a classic, Logan!” Jubilee countered, grabbing a handful of popcorn and tossing a piece his way. “You just don’t appreciate art.”

Laura, seemingly disinterested in the commotion, finished dealing the cards for Rogue, then looked back toward you. You smiled at her, your expression full of encouragement. She stayed where she was, content to be in her little circle for now, but you noticed her eyes linger on you for just a moment longer than usual.

---

Logan stood outside, leaning against the wall as he watched you show Laura the different trees in the yard, while the other kids ran about playing games or just relaxing under the shade.

Ororo and Jean both came over to him, one of them standing on each side of Logan. Jean spoke first, “you’re jealous.” She teased.

Logan didn’t look over at her, “I’m not jealous.”

Ororo hummed, “oh, yeah? Is that why you got all pouty when Y/N took Laura to the mall the other day and didn’t invite you?”

Logan scowled but didn’t look away from the scene in front of him. You were crouched next to a tree, pointing at something on the bark while Laura stood beside you, her head tilted in curiosity. The other kids were scattered around the yard, laughing and playing, but Laura stayed close to you, her small frame almost rigid.

“I didn’t pout,” Logan muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jean grinned, leaning her shoulder into him. “You totally pouted. You didn’t even talk to anyone during dinner that night.”

“That’s just Logan,” Ororo teased. “Quiet brooding is his default.”

Logan shot them both a look. “I don’t brood.”

Jean smirked. “Whatever you say, Logan.”

The three of them stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching as you moved to another tree with Laura trailing behind. Her little hand brushed against yours, and you instinctively reached down, linking your fingers loosely with hers. Logan’s expression softened, though he didn’t realize it.

“She’s attached to Y/N,” Ororo said softly, her gaze warm. “It’s sweet.”

“She’s attached ‘cause Y/N gets her,” Logan replied, his voice quieter than usual. “Knows when to give her space and when to be close. Most people don’t figure that out with Laura.”

Jean tilted her head, studying Logan’s face. “And you? You okay with sharing Y/N?”

Logan frowned, but there was no real bite in it. “Ain’t about sharing. It’s about what’s best for Laura. Kid’s been through hell. If this helps her feel... safe, then I’m all for it.”

Jean exchanged a quick glance with Ororo, both of them smiling knowingly. “You’re a softie, Logan,” Jean teased.

“Don’t push it,” Logan grumbled, though his tone lacked any real edge.

Meanwhile, you crouched down again, pointing at a patch of moss growing at the base of a tree. Laura crouched beside you, mimicking your posture. Her dark eyes flickered between your face and the moss, her attention unwavering.

“See how it’s growing on this side?” you asked gently, keeping your voice low. “That’s because it gets more shade over here. Plants like this need to stay cool and moist to grow.”

Laura nodded slowly, reaching out to touch the moss with a tentative finger. You smiled, glancing over your shoulder toward the mansion. Your eyes met Logan’s for a brief second, and he gave you a small nod. It wasn’t much, but it carried a lot: approval, gratitude, and maybe something a little softer.

Ororo elbowed him lightly. “You’re staring.”

“Am not.”

Jean laughed. “You totally are. And it’s adorable.”

Logan groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “You two gonna keep yappin’ or let me enjoy some peace and quiet?”

“Peace and quiet?” Ororo echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Logan, you’re literally surrounded by kids.”

Before he could retort, Laura stood up and turned to look at him. She didn’t say anything—she never did—but her gaze was steady, almost challenging. After a beat, she reached out and tugged at your sleeve, silently signaling she wanted to go inside.

You stood up, brushing dirt off your hands. “Ready to head back?”

Laura nodded once, her grip on your sleeve tightening slightly. You gave her a reassuring smile, then looked back at Logan. “We’re going in. Coming with?”

He shrugged, pushing off the wall. “Yeah, why not?”

Jean and Ororo exchanged amused looks as Logan followed you and Laura inside. When the door closed behind you, Ororo shook her head with a grin. “He’s a goner.”

Jean laughed. “Completely.”

---

As you and Laura walked down the main stairway, a knock from the front door reverberated through the mansion. Laura immediately grew tense, her fists clenching.

“Hey, it’s okay. Let’s see who it is,” you said, your voice calm as you moved toward the front door. Laura stayed close behind, her small frame tense, her eyes darting toward the windows as if assessing possible threats. You placed a hand on the doorknob, glancing back at her. “It’s probably nothing to worry about.”

Laura didn’t respond, but her fingers twitched, brushing against her side where her claws often unsheathed in moments of anxiety. You opened the door slowly, peering through the small crack.

“Oh, Peter!” you exclaimed, opening the door fully to reveal the young man standing on the porch in his Spider-Man suit. He was taller than when you last saw him, his lanky frame filling out slightly, though he still looked like the same awkward, wide-eyed kid you remembered. “You’ve gotten a bit taller in a year.”

Peter pulled off his mask, revealing a sheepish grin. “Yeah, uh… puberty’s a thing, I guess.” He scratched the back of his head, glancing past you into the mansion. “Hope it’s okay I stopped by. I was in the area and figured—”

“Of course it’s okay,” you interrupted warmly, stepping aside to let him in. “You’re always welcome here.”

Peter stepped inside, his eyes immediately falling on Laura, who was standing half-hidden behind you. Her sharp gaze was fixed on him, her posture defensive. Peter paused, his grin faltering slightly as he raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender.

“Uh… hi?” he tried, his voice unsure. “I’m Peter. You must be… Laura?”

She didn’t respond, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

“This is Peter Parker,” you explained softly, glancing down at her. “He’s a friend of ours.”

Laura’s gaze flicked to you, then back to Peter. She didn’t move or speak, but some of the tension in her shoulders eased.

Peter offered a nervous laugh. “Wow, tough crowd. It’s nice to meet you, though. I’ve, uh, heard a lot about you. Good things! Really good things.”

Laura tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable as she continued to size him up. Then she jerked her wrist once before pointing at Peter.

“I think she wants to see your webs,” you said, glancing down at Laura with a small smile. Her dark eyes remained fixed on Peter, her expression blank but her body tense, like a coiled spring.

Peter’s grin returned, albeit a little nervously. “Oh, yeah? Well, I can definitely do that. Hold on.” He flexed his fingers, then quickly flicked his wrist, sending a thin, shimmering strand of webbing across the room. It stuck to the far wall with a soft thwip, and he gave it a playful tug.

Laura’s head tilted slightly, her focus narrowing on the web as though she were analyzing its structure. Her fingers twitched again, though whether it was from curiosity or a reflexive urge to defend herself, you couldn’t quite tell.

“Cool, right?” Peter said, his tone a little more confident now. He released the web, letting it dissolve as he looked back at her. “I can swing through the city with these. It’s like… uh, instant transportation but way scarier and more fun.”

Laura finally moved, taking a single step closer, her gaze darting from Peter’s face to his hands. She pointed at the spot on the wall where the web had landed, then back at him.

“You wanna see it again?” Peter asked. He mimicked her pointing gesture, earning a faint twitch of her lips—almost a smile but not quite. “Okay, okay, one more.”

He aimed at the ceiling this time, sending a longer strand upward. The webbing clung to the chandelier, and Peter gave a mock swing to demonstrate, though he didn’t actually leave the ground. “Ta-da!” he said, gesturing dramatically.

Laura took another step forward, stopping a few feet in front of him. She didn’t look at you for reassurance, which was something; instead, she raised her hand and pointed again, this time at his wrist.

“Oh, you wanna see where it comes from?” Peter said, holding up his hand. “It’s, uh, kind of gross, but—oh, wait, not gross! Just… science-y. And cool. Definitely cool.”

He turned his wrist to show her the small, almost-invisible mechanism attached to the underside of his suit’s glove. “See this? It’s my web-shooter. Homemade. Took me forever to get it right, but now it’s pretty solid. I press here—” he gestured to a small trigger, “—and bam. Webs.”

Laura stared at the device for a long moment before looking up at him, her brow furrowed slightly. She pointed at his face, then mimicked putting on a mask.

“Oh, you mean the suit?” Peter said, catching on. “Yeah, I made that too. Well, this version’s had a few upgrades, but the original was all me. Gotta protect the ol’ secret identity, you know?”

You stepped closer, your hand brushing Laura’s shoulder gently. “Peter’s a bit of a genius when it comes to tech,” you said, your voice soft. “He built all of this himself.”

“That’s, uh, kind of an exaggeration,” Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just tinker a lot. Nothing fancy.”

Laura glanced at you briefly, then back at Peter. Finally, she reached out, her movements slow and deliberate, and tapped his wrist where the web-shooter sat.

Peter froze for a second, clearly unsure how to respond. “Oh, uh, you wanna try it?”

Laura pulled her hand back slightly, her expression unreadable.

“It’s okay,” you said gently. “He’s offering.”

Peter carefully unfastened the web-shooter from his wrist and held it out to her. “Here. Just don’t, uh, point it at anyone unless you’re ready to explain why they’re stuck to a wall.”

Laura hesitated, her fingers hovering just above the device before finally taking it from him. She turned it over in her hands, inspecting every detail with the kind of focus that made you wonder if she was mentally deconstructing it piece by piece.

“She’s like a little engineer,” Peter said, his tone full of admiration. “Seriously, I think she’s smarter than me already.”

“She’s definitely got an eye for detail,” you agreed, watching as Laura mimicked the motion Peter had demonstrated, pressing the trigger lightly. A small strand of webbing shot out, landing on the floor. Her head tilted again, and for the first time, you saw the faintest glimmer of curiosity in her expression.

“Not bad,” Peter said, grinning. “You’ve got the hang of it already.”

Laura handed the web-shooter back to him without a word, her movements quick but not abrupt. She looked at you, then gave a single nod, as if to say she’d seen enough.

“You’re a tough critic, huh?” Peter said, reattaching the device to his wrist. “I like that.”

Laura didn’t respond, but her body language had relaxed slightly. You reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “She’s just careful,” you said. “Takes a lot for her to trust someone.”

Peter nodded, his grin softening into something more genuine. “Hey, I get it. It’s cool. No rush or anything. I just wanted to say hi and, uh, not get on her bad side.”

You chuckled, giving Laura’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You did fine, Peter. Thanks for stopping by. It’s always good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too,” he said, pulling his mask back on. He gave a little wave, directing it at Laura. “Nice meeting you, Laura. You’re, uh… pretty awesome.”

Laura watched him go, her expression unreadable again, but you didn’t miss the way her posture stayed a little less guarded, even after the door closed.

---

You and Logan laid on the couch in the common room, with you laying in between his legs, your back against his chest. The TV played A New Hope, which Logan grumbled about at first, until you reminded him that the two of you watched some Western last night.

“It doesn’t make sense why the damn droids—”

You brought a hand up behind you and placed it over Logan's mouth just as R2-D2 and C-3PO landed on Tatooine. He let out a muffled grumble against your palm, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Logan,” you teased, turning your head slightly to catch his annoyed expression. “You promised no complaints tonight.”

He pulled your hand away gently, smirking as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “I just don’t get why those two are so important. They’re just scrap metal on legs.”

“Blasphemy,” you replied, feigning offense. “They’re the heart and soul of Star Wars.”

Logan snorted, muttering something about “weird priorities,” but didn’t argue further. He rested his chin lightly on the top of your head as the movie continued, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

The peace was interrupted by the sound of small, light footsteps entering the room. You glanced toward the doorway and saw Laura standing there, her stuffed bunny clutched tightly in one hand. She didn’t say anything, of course, just stood there staring at the two of you.

“Hey, kiddo,” you greeted softly, motioning her over. “You wanna join us?”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting between you and Logan before cautiously stepping closer. You sat up slightly and held out your hands, and she climbed onto the couch without a word. Once she was close enough, you gently lifted her and settled her between your legs, her back resting against your chest. Her bunny stayed tucked safely in her arms.

Logan’s eyes softened as he watched, his earlier grumpiness forgotten. He shifted to make more room, one arm draped lazily along the back of the couch.

For the first few minutes, Laura kept her gaze firmly averted from the screen, clearly uninterested. But gradually, you noticed her small head turning slightly, her dark eyes flickering toward the movie as Luke Skywalker wandered the desert. By the time Obi-Wan Kenobi made his first appearance, she was fully focused, her brows furrowed as she took it all in.

“You want me to rewind it?” you asked quietly, glancing down at her. “We’re not that far in.”

Logan groaned immediately. “Aw, come on, darlin’. We already sat through all that desert stuff.”

You gave him a pointed look. “Some of us appreciate the desert stuff.”

Laura looked up at you, then back at the screen. She didn’t say anything, but the way she clung to her bunny suggested she didn’t mind starting over. You took her silence as agreement and reached for the remote.

Logan let his head fall back dramatically. “You’re killin’ me here.”

“You’ll survive,” you said, smirking as you hit the rewind button.

The movie started over, and this time, all three of you watched in relative silence. You occasionally explained a few details to Laura, keeping your voice soft so as not to disturb the atmosphere. Logan offered a few snarky comments here and there, but even he seemed more engaged than he’d admit.

At some point, you noticed Laura’s head drooping, her body leaning more heavily against yours. She was fast asleep by the time the Jawas captured R2-D2, her bunny still clutched tightly in her hands.

You smiled down at her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Guess she’s a fan,” you whispered.

Logan glanced over, his expression softening again as he took in the sight of Laura curled up against you. “Looks like it,” he murmured. “Not sure I’m ready for the day she starts quotin’ this stuff at me.”

You chuckled quietly. “You’ll manage.”

A comfortable silence settled over the room. The movie continued to play, but before long, you felt your own eyes growing heavy. Logan’s steady warmth and the soft rhythm of Laura’s breathing made it hard to stay awake. Eventually, you let your head rest against Logan’s chest, your hand resting lightly on Laura’s shoulder.

Logan glanced down, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips as he watched the two of you. He reached for the blanket draped over the back of the couch, carefully pulling it over you and Laura without disturbing either of you.

“Night, darlin’,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Then he leaned back, his eyes on the screen, the soft hum of the movie filling the room as the three of you drifted into a peaceful sleep.

---

“Rogue is an expert decorator, especially when it comes to Christmas.” You explained, carrying Laura on your hip. The mansion was decked out in lights, trees, garland, and glitter. Usually you and Logan would go to the cabin up north, a tradition the two of you have had for the past few years, but since Laura was around the two of you thought it’d be best to stay at the mansion.

Laura pointed up at the ceiling by the common room doorway. “Oh, that’s mistletoe,” you said with a soft smile, adjusting her on your hip. “It’s been a symbol of love and peace for centuries. There’s even a tradition—if two people stand underneath it, they’re supposed to kiss. Then they pick one of the berries.”

Laura’s brow furrowed slightly, her dark eyes flicking to you and then back to the greenery above. She shifted in your arms, clutching her stuffed bunny tightly.

Rogue’s voice called out from the other side of the room, drawing both of your attention. “Hey, Y/N! You think this garland should go along the staircase or the balcony?”

“Staircase,” you replied, moving toward her. “It’ll tie the whole entryway together.”

Rogue grinned, giving you a thumbs-up before going back to work. The mansion was in full holiday mode, with Rogue and you taking charge of most of the decorating. Or, as Rogue called it, “deckin’ the halls until the place practically screams Christmas.”

“Let’s go help,” you said to Laura, setting her down gently. She stuck close, always keeping one hand on your sleeve or your leg as you worked alongside Rogue, hanging ornaments and looping tinsel. Occasionally, you handed Laura a small task, like placing bows on the banister or choosing where a set of lights should go. She performed each task with the same quiet intensity she seemed to bring to everything.

Logan, meanwhile, was in another part of the mansion helping Jubilee sort out the tangled mess of outdoor lights. You could already imagine him grumbling under his breath about the chaos, but you had no doubt Jubilee would keep him in line with her usual brand of bubbly sarcasm.

The day wore on, and as dinner approached, you noticed Laura had disappeared. Your chest tightened briefly at the realization, but you reminded yourself that she’d been feeling safer in the mansion lately and likely wasn’t far.

You didn’t have to wonder long. Just as you moved into the common room, you spotted her, standing in the middle of the doorway under the mistletoe with her arms folded over her chest. Her sharp eyes locked onto you, and then she made a motion with her hand—a beckoning gesture.

You chuckled softly, stepping toward her. “What are you up to?”

She didn’t answer, only raised a finger and pointed toward the mistletoe. Her gaze slid past you, focusing on Logan, who had just entered the room behind you, holding a tangled string of lights.

“What’s this about, kid?” Logan asked, frowning slightly as he stopped beside you.

Laura pointed at the mistletoe again, her expression unyielding. She shifted her stuffed bunny from one arm to the other, and then, for the first time, she opened her mouth.

“Kiss.”

Both you and Logan froze, the single word hanging in the air like a snowflake suspended in time.

You blinked, your gaze snapping to Logan, whose eyes were wide with shock before softening into something warmer, more tender. A grin slowly tugged at the corner of his lips as he glanced between you and Laura.

“Well,” Logan said, his voice quieter than usual, “looks like she’s givin’ orders now.”

Your face warmed, but you couldn’t deny the smile pulling at your lips. “She’s persistent,” you murmured, looking at Laura.

Laura didn’t move, her expression unchanging as she stood her ground beneath the mistletoe, waiting. There was a glint of determination in her eyes, and you realized this wasn’t just her pushing you and Logan into a holiday tradition. It was something more. She was testing boundaries, creating her version of a family moment.

You glanced back at Logan, and his slight nod told you he felt it, too. With an amused sigh, you leaned up on your toes and tilted your face toward him. Logan’s hand came up, brushing against your cheek as he bent his head down to meet your lips in a kiss. It was soft and warm, lingering just a moment longer than you expected.

When you pulled away, the smallest trace of a smile had appeared on Laura’s face. She stepped closer, still clutching her bunny, and Logan reached down, picking her up easily. You grabbed the bunny so her little hands could hold onto Logan’s neck instead.

“Well, what about you, kid?” Logan asked her, his voice unusually gentle. “You gonna get a kiss, too?”

You smiled, leaning in to kiss one of her cheeks as Logan did the same to the other. Laura made a soft sound, something halfway between a giggle and a hum, as her arms wrapped tighter around Logan’s neck.

“Guess she approves,” you said, laughter in your voice as Logan looked at her with a rare softness in his eyes.

“Good,” he rumbled. “’Cause I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

From that point on, the evening felt even more special. Laura stayed close for the rest of the night, her presence a constant reminder of how much your little family had grown. You weren’t just surviving—you were building something new, together.

---

Ever since then, Laura spoke more. Not all the time, but enough.

You also learned that there was one thing her and Logan had in common. Their pranks. One evening, after classes ended, you took a shower and changed into your pajamas, one of Logan’s flannels and your sleep pants, before heading into the kitchen.

Jean offered you a glass of wine, which you accepted gratefully. The kitchen was warm with the smell of freshly baked cookies that Rogue and Jubilee had made earlier. You adjusted your glasses and took a sip, leaning against the counter as Jean filled you in on her day.

“I’m telling you, Scott nearly blew a fuse in the Danger Room today,” Jean said, chuckling softly. “He always forgets how easily Peter can get under his skin.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “Sounds like classic Peter. He never stops pushing buttons.”

Before Jean could respond, the faint sound of whispers and hushed laughter drew your attention toward the hallway. You narrowed your eyes, tilting your head as Logan and Laura entered the room, both looking suspiciously nonchalant.

“Logan,” you said, your tone laced with playful skepticism, “what are you two up to?”

“Us?” Logan asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Nothin’. Just makin’ the rounds.”

Laura stood beside him, her stuffed bunny tucked under one arm. Her sharp eyes darted between you and Jean, her lips pressed together in a way that suggested she was trying very hard not to smile.

Jean crossed her arms, her brow raised. “Uh-huh. And why do I get the feeling that ‘making the rounds’ actually means trouble?”

“No idea what you’re talkin’ about,” Logan said, though the mischievous glint in his eyes betrayed him.

Laura shifted on her feet, her free hand tugging at the hem of Logan’s flannel shirt, a silent cue. Logan nodded once before turning his attention back to you and Jean.

“We’ll catch up later, darlin’,” he said, winking at you. “C’mon, kid.”

Laura gave you a brief, almost sheepish glance before following Logan out of the kitchen. You and Jean exchanged a look.

“They’re definitely up to something,” Jean said, smirking.

You sighed, already bracing yourself for whatever chaos was about to unfold. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t involve—”

A sudden shout from the hallway cut you off.

“Logan! Laura!”

Jean burst into laughter as Scott stormed into the kitchen, his visor slightly askew and his face smeared with what appeared to be whipped cream. He pointed an accusatory finger toward the hallway. “Those two little menaces rigged the training console! It blasted me with a—”

“Pie cannon?” Jean finished, laughing so hard she had to set her wine glass down.

You bit back a smile, raising an eyebrow at Scott. “You mean to tell me you didn’t see it coming?”

“It was disguised as a systems diagnostic!” Scott exclaimed, his voice full of indignation. “I spent twenty minutes analyzing the setup, and then—bam!”

From somewhere down the hall, you heard Logan’s deep laughter mingling with Laura’s soft, breathy giggle. Your heart swelled at the sound; it was rare for Laura to laugh so freely, and you knew that moments like these were helping her feel more at home.

Jean wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “Scott, I hate to say it, but you walked right into that one.”

Scott grumbled something under his breath before turning to leave, muttering about “revenge” as he stomped down the hallway.

You turned back to Jean, shaking your head in amusement. “I should probably go check on them before this escalates.”

Jean grinned, waving you off. “Good luck, Y/N. You’ll need it.”

---

You found Logan and Laura in the rec room, both looking entirely too pleased with themselves. Laura was perched on the arm of the couch, her bunny in her lap, while Logan lounged beside her, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“You two really couldn’t resist, could you?” you said, crossing your arms as you leaned against the doorway.

“Guy had it comin’,” Logan replied, completely unapologetic. “Been ridin’ me about the outdoor lights all week.”

Laura nodded, her expression serious despite the faint sparkle in her eyes.

You sighed, shaking your head as you walked over to them. “Just… try not to push Scott too far, okay? He’s still the one who has to lead team missions.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan said, waving a dismissive hand. But there was a softness in his gaze as he watched you, a quiet warmth that always lingered when you were near.

Laura slid off the couch and moved to your side, her small hand tugging at your sleeve. You looked down at her, and she tilted her head, her expression curious.

“Are you mad?” she asked softly, her voice still carrying the hesitancy she hadn’t yet outgrown.

You knelt down to her level, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No, sweetheart. I’m not mad. Just making sure you two don’t get into too much trouble.”

Her lips twitched into a small smile, and she leaned in, wrapping her arms around your neck. “Okay.”

Logan watched the exchange, his smirk fading into something more tender. He knew how much you had both longed for a family, and seeing you with Laura reminded him of just how far the two of you had come—not just as a couple, but as a team, a unit. A family.

---

Ever since summer break started, Laura followed you around more often. Without classes to worry about there was logically no reason to be separated.

Logan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, as Rogue, Kitty, and Jubilee chatted animatedly about their upcoming mall trip. Laura stood close to you, her small hand clutching your skirt. She hadn’t said much, just watched the girls with her usual quiet intensity.

“You wanna go with them?” Logan asked Laura, his voice casual as he nodded toward the girls. “Looks like they’re gonna have a good time.”

Laura glanced up at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Do you want me to go?”

You knelt down to her level, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said gently. “You can stay here with me and Logan. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Logan shot you a look that was equal parts amused and exasperated. “C’mon, kid,” he said to Laura, crouching slightly to meet her eyes. “Could be fun. You’ll get some new clothes, maybe a toy or two. And these three know how to find the best snacks at the food court.”

Kitty grinned. “Oh, for sure. We’ve got the food court mapped out like a treasure hunt.”

Jubilee chimed in. “And we’ll make sure you have fun, Laura. Promise.”

Laura’s gaze flicked between you and Logan, clearly conflicted. You gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s up to you, kiddo. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

Logan’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “You’ll be fine, kid. Go have some fun. You don’t need to be stuck with us old folks all the time.”

Laura hesitated for a moment longer, then nodded. “Okay.”

Rogue extended a hand to her. “Great. Let’s go, little one.”

Laura hesitated just long enough to give you a quick hug before taking Rogue’s hand. As the group headed for the door, you called after her, “have fun, Laura! Be good!”

“Always,” she replied, her voice soft but steady.

The door closed behind them, and the house fell into a rare, peaceful silence. You turned to Logan, who was watching you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Before you could say anything, he closed the distance between you in two long strides, scooping you up effortlessly.

“Logan!” you squeaked, laughing as you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“Finally got you all to myself,” he said, his tone low and teasing. “Not lettin’ this opportunity go to waste.”

“Logan—”

He silenced you with a quick kiss, his smirk never fading. “Relax, darlin’. You’ve been runnin’ yourself ragged lately. Time to take a break.”

You tried to feign indignation, but his warmth and the way he carried you so easily made it hard to keep a straight face. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” he shot back, carrying you down the hall toward the bedroom.

By the time he kicked the door shut behind him, you’d given up pretending to be annoyed. Logan set you down gently on the bed, his hands lingering at your waist as he leaned in close. His voice softened, the teasing edge giving way to something more tender.

“Missed this,” he murmured. “Missed you.”

You smiled up at him, your fingers brushing through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere, Logan.”

His gaze darkened slightly, a flicker of something unspoken passing through his eyes. But he didn’t say anything, just kissed you again, his touch reverent, as if grounding himself in the moment. His lips traveled from yours, skimming along your jaw, down your neck. Each kiss was deliberate, like he was marking a path only he knew.

“Logan,” you murmured, your fingers curling in his hair. Your voice carried a soft plea, one he clearly heard as his hands slid down your sides, lifting your shirt over your head. He paused for a moment, his thumbs brushing over your waist, and his eyes roamed over you, filled with something raw and tender all at once.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, his voice thick. “Never get tired of this, darlin’.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You always say that.”

“And I’ll keep sayin’ it,” he shot back, leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Before you could respond, Logan’s hands moved to the clasp of your bra. But instead of unhooking it, you felt the unmistakable snikt as one of his claws extended. Your breath hitched when he expertly slid the adamantium blade under the fabric, slicing it open with ease. The sound was barely audible over your quickened breathing.

“Logan,” you started, but his mouth was already moving down your body, kissing along your collarbone, then lower. His hands skimmed the straps from your shoulders, and your ruined bra joined your shirt on the floor.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips trailing between your breasts. His hands rested on your waist, firm and grounding, while his mouth continued its descent, worshiping every inch of skin he uncovered.

“You… you didn’t have to…” Your protest trailed off into a shiver as his lips pressed against your stomach, his beard scratching just enough to make you gasp.

“Didn’t wanna waste time,” he replied, his voice muffled as he kissed just above the waistband of your skirt. His hands tugged at the fabric, pushing it higher until it bunched around your waist, leaving you in nothing but the small wedge heels you’d forgotten you were wearing.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him with a mix of anticipation and amusement. “Still fully dressed, huh? Doesn’t seem fair.”

Logan glanced up at you, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “Fair? Darlin’, I’m about to spoil you rotten.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as he gripped your thighs, spreading them apart effortlessly. His lips pressed against the sensitive skin just above the edge of your panties, and you shivered at the heat of his breath.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with want.

He looked up at you again, his expression softening for a moment. “I got you,” he said simply.

In one smooth motion, you found yourself straddling his face, his strong hands gripping your thighs to hold you steady.

“Logan!” Your voice was a mix of shock and laughter, your hands automatically going to his shoulders for balance. “What are you…”

“Told you,” he interrupted, his tone both teasing and commanding. “Gonna spoil you.”

You barely had time to process his words before his mouth was on you, hot and insistent. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as his tongue parted you, finding exactly where you needed him. The initial shock melted into pleasure, and your head fell back as a low moan spilled from your lips.

“Oh, God,” you managed, your fingers digging into his shoulders. Logan’s grip tightened on your thighs, pulling you closer against him. His tongue worked in slow, deliberate strokes, each one sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body. When he sucked lightly, your hips bucked involuntarily, and his hands moved to hold you in place.

“Logan, please,” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a breath.

He groaned against you, the vibration only adding to your pleasure. “You taste so damn good, sweetheart,” he murmured between strokes, his voice thick and low.

Your fingers curled tighter in his hair, your thighs trembling under the firm grip of his hands. He held you in place as his tongue explored you, each deliberate motion sending ripples of heat through your core. The raw need in his voice matched the way he devoured you, like a man starved.

“Logan… oh, God,” you gasped, your hips instinctively rolling against his mouth. The intensity of it, the sheer focus he poured into you, left you teetering on the edge. You leaned back slightly, bracing your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

He chuckled against your sensitive skin, the low rumble sending another shiver through you. “Keep sayin’ my name like that,” he teased, his lips brushing over your clit before his tongue swirled around it in slow, agonizing circles. “Drives me wild.”

You couldn’t answer—not coherently, at least. Instead, a breathy moan escaped your lips, your head falling back as pleasure coiled tighter in your belly. The wet heat of his mouth, the scrape of his beard against your inner thighs, every sensation overwhelmed you.

“You’re… you’re too good at this,” you managed to choke out, your voice trembling.

His smirk was evident even without seeing it. “Damn right I am,” he replied, his grip on your thighs tightening. He shifted slightly, pulling you even closer as his tongue plunged deeper, his nose brushing against your clit in a way that made your back arch.

The sharp gasp that tore from your throat only spurred him on. His hands slid up to your hips, his thumbs pressing into the curve of your waist to steady you as you trembled against him. “That’s it, darlin’,” he muttered, his voice muffled but unmistakably rough with want. “Let go for me.”

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up. The tension inside you snapped, a flood of white-hot ecstasy that left you crying out his name. Logan groaned as he held you through it, his tongue never relenting, drawing every last wave of pleasure from you until you sagged against him, your thighs shaking uncontrollably.

You blinked down at him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. His lips glistened with evidence of your release, his smirk smug but not unkind. He looked utterly unrepentant, like a man who knew exactly what he’d done and was damn proud of it.

“Still with me?” he asked, his voice a little softer now as his hands caressed your thighs, grounding you.

You hummed as he gently pushed you down onto the bed. He was sitting on his heels between your legs as you leaned up to start unbuttoning his flannel. Logan watched you, his eyes fixed on your face, his hands resting on your thighs. The reverence in his gaze made your breath hitch, and you focused on the small task of freeing him from the worn fabric.

“C’mere,” he murmured, one hand lifting to brush a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek. “Need to see you, darlin’.”

You tugged the shirt open, revealing the faint scars littering his chest, some old and faded, others still pink and newer. Your fingers trailed over his skin as you pushed the flannel off his shoulders. He shivered slightly under your touch, and you smiled softly.

“You’re overdressed,” you pointed out, sitting up to work at the buckle of his belt. Logan’s hands covered yours, halting your movements.

“Leave the skirt,” he said, his voice low and rough. His gaze flicked to your heels. “And those.”

Your cheeks heated, but you nodded, your hands dropping to your sides as he finished unfastening his belt. His jeans and boxers joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor, and when he was finally bare before you, your eyes lingered, taking in every inch of him. He leaned down, catching your lips in a slow, heated kiss that left you breathless. His hand slid under your thigh, hitching your leg higher as he settled between your legs.

“Been too damn long,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice thick with longing.

Your fingers traced the muscles of his back as he kissed you, his lips soft but insistent. When he pulled back, his hand slid down your side, calloused fingers skimming your hip. He guided himself to your entrance, his forehead pressing against yours as he paused, his breathing uneven.

“Logan,” you whispered, your voice trembling with want. “Please.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He pushed into you slowly, the stretch making you gasp softly. Logan groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your hips as he filled you completely. He stayed still for a moment, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he breathed you in.

“Always so fuckin’ perfect,” he rasped. “Takin’ me so well, sweetheart. Always do.”

Your nails pressed into his shoulders as you adjusted to him, your body instinctively arching against his. He started to move, slow and deliberate at first, each thrust deep and purposeful. You whimpered softly, biting your lip to muffle the sounds threatening to escape.

“C’mon, darlin’,” Logan urged, his voice rough. “Lemme hear you.”

“Logan,” you gasped, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. The sheer intensity of him, the way he moved inside you, left you trembling. His hands roamed your body, one sliding under your thigh to angle your hips, the other tangling in your hair.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “Doin’ so good for me. So good.”

Your head fell back against the pillows, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps as he picked up the pace. His hips snapped against yours, the rough friction sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. Logan’s voice was a constant murmur in your ear, each word dripping with adoration and want.

“You’re gorgeous like this,” he said, his voice thick. “Spread out for me, takin’ my cock so damn well. Been dreamin’ about this, darlin’. Missed the way you feel.”

Your hands slid to his sides, your fingers digging into his skin as you clung to him. The pressure building inside you was almost unbearable, your body tightening around him with every thrust. Logan groaned, the sound low and primal, and his lips found yours in a heated, desperate kiss.

“Logan,” you whispered against his mouth, your voice trembling.

“I’ve got you,” he promised, his grip on your thigh tightening. “Let go for me, sweetheart. Wanna feel you.”

His words pushed you over the edge. Your body arched against his, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as the tension snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves. Logan’s pace didn’t falter, his movements driving you higher as he chased his own release. The sound of his name on your lips sent him spiraling, his body tensing as he followed you into bliss.

He collapsed against you, his weight grounding you as you both tried to catch your breath. His hand slid to your cheek, tilting your face up so he could kiss you softly. The tenderness in his touch made your heart ache, and you smiled against his lips.

“Missed you,” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reminded him, your fingers brushing through his hair.

Logan pressed his forehead to yours, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Good.”

You held him close, your bodies tangled together, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

---

“Guess I’m the unlucky one then.” You said, grabbing a few binders from your desk.

Logan grumbled under his breath as he watched you gather a few binders and textbooks from your desk. "I’m gonna kill Scott. There’s no reason you should be teachin’ a summer class."

You adjusted your glasses and glanced over your shoulder at him, an amused smile tugging at your lips. "Logan, it’s only for eight weeks. It’s not like I’m running a full semester."

He narrowed his eyes, clearly unimpressed by your attempt to downplay it. "Still too much. You already do enough around here."

You shook your head, biting back a laugh. "It’s just a class for the younger kids. Basic physics. Nothing too strenuous."

Logan snorted and crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway. "Darlin’, you’d find a way to make a black hole sound like a bedtime story. Don’t mean you gotta be teachin’ every second of the day."

"That’s because black holes are fascinating," you teased, brushing past him to set your materials down on the kitchen table. "And it’s not like I’m always working. You know I’m just filling in since Ororo is handling extra field training this summer."

"Uh-huh," Logan muttered, clearly unconvinced. "And what about time for you? When’s the last time you had a break that didn’t involve grading papers or chasin’ kids around?"

You opened your mouth to respond but paused when you felt a small tug on your pants. Looking down, you found Laura standing beside you, her stuffed bunny tucked tightly under her arm. Her serious gaze flickered between you and Logan.

"Why is he mad?" Laura asked softly, her voice careful but laced with concern.

Logan’s expression softened instantly, and he crouched to meet her eye level. "Ain’t mad, kid. Just think your mo—" he caught himself, clearing his throat, "—Y/N, works too hard sometimes. Somebody’s gotta look out for her, right?"

Laura looked up at you, her small brow furrowing in thought. "Do you want me to help?"

Your heart melted at her earnestness, and you knelt beside her, brushing a hand over her dark hair. "Sweetheart, that’s very kind, but I promise I’m okay. Logan’s just being overprotective again."

"Someone’s gotta do it," Logan quipped, standing back up and crossing his arms again.

Laura seemed satisfied with your answer and wrapped her arms around your neck in a quick hug before retreating to sit at the kitchen counter, her bunny in tow. You straightened and turned to Logan, who was still giving you that stubborn, protective look.

"It’s eight weeks, Logan," you said softly, stepping closer to him. "I promise, it’s manageable. And I’ll still have plenty of time for you and Laura."

His jaw twitched, but he relented with a small sigh, one hand reaching out to rest on your waist. "Fine. But if you so much as look tired, I’m takin’ over. Don’t care if Scott likes it or not."

"Noted," you replied, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

Before Logan could grumble again, the distant sound of children’s laughter echoed through the mansion halls, followed by the patter of small footsteps. You glanced toward the doorway as a group of younger kids you’d helped rescue, alongside Laura, ran past, giggling and chattering excitedly. One of them stopped to wave at you before darting after the others.

Laura glanced at the commotion, then turned back to you. "Do I have to go with them?"

You smiled gently and shook your head. "No, sweetheart. You can stay with us if you’d like."

Laura hesitated for a moment before nodding and settling deeper into her chair. Logan watched her carefully, his usual gruff demeanor melting as he studied her.

"She’s stickin’ close today," he murmured, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

"She’s getting more comfortable," you said softly. "But she still has her moments. We just need to keep showing her she’s safe."

Logan nodded, his hand brushing against yours. "She’s got you, darlin’. That’s all she needs."

---

“You should’ve seen it, Jean! I grabbed the papers from Scott’s hands and got this,” you said, holding up your index finger to show the tiny, nearly invisible cut. “And Laura snarled at him.”

Jean laughed, setting her mug down on the counter. “She snarled at Scott? Oh, I wish I’d been there for that.”

“I know, right?” You adjusted your glasses, shaking your head in disbelief. “I mean, Scott looked so confused. He just froze and started stammering, like he didn’t know what he did wrong.”

Jean leaned on the counter, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, Scott does have a talent for rubbing people the wrong way. But I think it’s sweet—Laura’s protective of you. She’s really come out of her shell since she’s been here.”

Your expression softened as you thought about Laura. “She has. She still sticks close, though. Logan says she’s like that because of, you know, everything she’s been through.”

Jean nodded knowingly. “It’s understandable. But it’s also because of you. She feels safe with you. Both of you.”

“Maybe.” You smiled faintly, swirling your mug of tea. “It’s just… hard to believe sometimes, you know? I mean, for so long, it was just me and Logan. And now, suddenly, there’s this kid who sees us as her family.”

Jean’s smile turned warm, but there was a flicker of thoughtfulness in her gaze. She reached out and squeezed your hand. “You’ve built something amazing, Y/N. She’s lucky to have you.”

Before you could respond, you heard heavy footsteps approaching. Logan entered the kitchen, his ever-present gruffness softened as his eyes landed on you. “You tell Jean about Scott yet?”

Jean smirked. “Oh, she did. And I’m dying to know—did he actually apologize to Laura, or did he just flee in terror?”

Logan chuckled, leaning against the doorway. “He tried, but the kid just gave him her death stare. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “That sounds about right.”

Laura padded into the kitchen just then, her bunny tucked securely under her arm. She stopped beside you and tugged gently on your sleeve. “Are you okay?”

Her small, serious voice tugged at your heart. “Of course, kiddo. It’s just a little paper cut.”

Laura frowned, her gaze dropping to your hand. “It could get infected.”

Jean covered her mouth to stifle a laugh as Logan stepped closer, resting a hand on Laura’s shoulder. “Kid’s got a point,” he said, clearly trying not to smile. “Better let her put a Band-Aid on it. Y’know, for safety.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your grin. “Fine, but only if you help, Laura. Think you can handle it?”

She nodded solemnly and marched off to fetch the first-aid kit. Jean leaned closer and whispered, “you’ve got your own little bodyguard now.”

“I know,” you whispered back, smiling as Laura returned with the kit in hand.

Laura set to work with the precision of someone much older, carefully cleaning the tiny cut and applying a Band-Aid decorated with cartoon characters. When she was done, she looked up at you with a serious expression. “No more paper cuts.”

You nodded, biting back a laugh. “Got it. No more paper cuts.”

Logan ruffled Laura’s hair, his expression softening in that way it always did when he looked at her. “Good work, kid. Keepin’ her safe.”

Laura nodded firmly, clearly taking the role very seriously. Jean’s gaze flicked between the three of you, her smile growing as she picked up her mug. “I’d say you’re in good hands, Y/N. Between Logan and Laura, you’ll never have to worry about anything.”

You looked at them both, warmth blooming in your chest. “Yeah,” you said softly. “I think you’re right.”

---

You looked at both sides of the hallway before quickly ducking into Ororo’s office, shutting the door behind you. She glanced up from her desk, eyebrows raised. “Whoa, whoa. What’re you doing here?”

“Hiding,” you muttered, leaning back against the door.

Ororo tilted her head, clearly intrigued. “From who?”

“Logan,” you admitted, sighing as you adjusted your glasses.

Her lips twitched with amusement as she leaned back in her chair. “Logan? Why are you hiding from him?”

“Because,” you began, stepping away from the door and crossing your arms, “this morning, he wouldn’t let me get out of bed. I mean, he wrapped himself around me like a vice, said it was ‘too early,’ and when I finally managed to escape, he helped me dress.”

Ororo blinked. “He helped you what?”

“Dress,” you repeated, exasperated. “He buttoned my shirt, made sure my socks matched—he even put my glasses on for me!”

She burst out laughing, shaking her head. “Oh, I’d pay to see that. Logan, Mr. ‘I’ll Rip Your Head Off,’ playing stylist.”

“Not stylist,” you corrected. “He wasn’t picking outfits. He just... wouldn’t let me do it myself. It was sweet but—ugh—I’m an adult! I can dress myself.”

Ororo raised a skeptical brow, her smile widening. “Sweet? That doesn’t sound like something you should hide from. Sounds like you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.”

You groaned, sitting in one of the chairs across from her desk. “It’s more than that. He’s been extra... clingy lately. And Laura, too! She wouldn’t even let me walk down the stairs this morning without holding my hand. She said the bannister might ‘give out.’ The bannister, Ororo.”

Ororo pressed her fingers to her lips, trying to suppress another laugh. “Sounds like they’re on high alert. Did something happen recently?”

“No!” you said quickly, waving your hands. “Everything’s been fine. Better than fine, actually. Laura’s been settling in, Logan’s been... happy, I think. I don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

Ororo gave you a knowing look but didn’t press further. “Well, maybe it’s just their instincts kicking in. Logan’s always been protective, and Laura’s clearly picked up a few habits from him.”

“Clearly,” you mumbled, running a hand through your hair. “But it’s a bit much. I just needed a breather, you know?”

She nodded, her expression softening. “I get it. But you know, for all their gruffness, they love you. And maybe they’re just trying to show it in their own... unique way.”

You smiled faintly, her words easing some of your frustration. “Yeah, I guess. I just hope this phase passes soon. I’m not used to being hovered over like this.”

“Well, if you need a place to hide, my office is always open,” Ororo teased, leaning forward with a grin. “But I wouldn’t stay too long. Logan’ll probably sniff you out before lunch.”

“Don’t remind me,” you said, laughing despite yourself. “Thanks, Ororo.”

“Anytime,” she said, watching as you stood and stretched. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

She smirked. “If Logan starts trying to braid your hair, let me know. I’ll need to see that for myself.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you headed for the door. “Don’t hold your breath.”

---

When you stepped into the hallway, you didn’t make it five steps before Logan appeared around the corner, his sharp eyes locking onto you immediately.

“Darlin’, thought I told you to take it easy today,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar gruff warmth as he approached.

You sighed, caught red-handed. “Logan, I’m fine. I don’t need to—”

He interrupted you by tugging your glasses up slightly and peering at your face, as if checking for signs of exhaustion. “You been runnin’ around again?”

“Not running,” you said, batting his hand away but smiling despite yourself. “Just... walking briskly.”

He snorted, clearly unconvinced. “C’mon. Laura’s lookin’ for you. Said she wants to sit with you during lunch.”

You couldn’t help but soften at the mention of her. “Alright. But no more helping me get dressed, okay?”

His smirk was small but unmistakable. “No promises, sweetheart.”

---

You stepped out of the bathroom in the main hall, closing the door behind you before turning to face Logan, who was leaning against the wall by the door.

You yelped, covering your mouth with one hand and your heart with the other, “Jesus, honey, you scared me!”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “you’ve been going to the bathroom more often.”

“Yeah… because it’s summer and I’m drinking more water. Unlike someone who thinks coffee counts as part of his water intake,” you teased, adjusting your glasses as you glanced at Logan.

Logan crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Coffee’s got water in it. Pretty sure that counts.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not how hydration works, Logan.”

He tilted his head, watching you closely, and his smirk faded into something more thoughtful. “You sure you’re okay? You’ve been lookin’ a little… off lately. Not sick or nothin’, just different.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “Different how?”

Logan shrugged but didn’t break eye contact. “Dunno. Just feels like somethin’s changed.”

You waved a hand dismissively. “I’m fine, really. Probably just tired from teaching the summer class.”

Before Logan could press further, Laura appeared around the corner, her little bunny tucked under her arm as always. She made a beeline for you, her small hand immediately wrapping around yours. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft but insistent.

Your heart melted a little at the concern in her wide eyes. “I’m fine, Laura. Just talking to Logan about staying hydrated.”

She frowned, looking up at Logan with a scolding expression that was comically reminiscent of his own. “You should drink water, too.”

Logan snorted, crouching slightly so he was closer to her eye level. “Kid, I’ve been doin’ just fine with coffee for decades. Don’t think I’ll stop now.”

Laura’s frown deepened. “Coffee doesn’t hydrate you.”

You bit your lip to stifle a laugh as Logan raised an eyebrow. “You teamin’ up on me now?”

“She’s right,” you said with a grin. “Even if it pains you to admit it.”

Logan shook his head, muttering something under his breath about stubborn women before standing and looking down at the two of you. “Fine. I’ll drink more water. Happy?”

Laura nodded, satisfied, and tugged on your hand. “Come on. It’s time for lunch.”

“Alright, alright,” you said, letting her lead you down the hallway. As you glanced back, you caught Logan watching the two of you, a softness in his eyes that made your chest tighten in the best way.

---

Laura sat on the stool at the kitchen island, watching your movements like a hawk. Her bunny sat in her lap while her hand absentmindedly stroked one of its ears.

Some pop music played from the radio by the stove as you dipped your finger in the sauce. You quickly pulled your finger away from the spoon, muttering an “ouch” as you sucked on your finger. Before you knew it, Laura had hopped off her stool and come to stand by you, tugging your arm down so she could inspect your slightly reddened finger.

“It’s fine, kiddo,” you said softly, holding up your hand for her to see. “Just touched the sauce. It’s hot, but no harm done.”

Laura frowned, narrowing her eyes at your hand as though the sauce itself had committed some great crime. “You shouldn’t do that,” she said seriously.

You bit back a smile, her concern both endearing and amusing. “You’re right. I’ll be more careful.”

Logan’s familiar footsteps echoed into the kitchen before he appeared in the doorway, his arms crossed. His gaze flicked to you and then to Laura standing protectively by your side. “What happened now?”

“Nothing!” you exclaimed, throwing him an exasperated look. “I touched the sauce, and it was hot. End of story.”

Logan raised a brow as he leaned against the doorframe. “Did you burn yourself?”

“No,” you said firmly, lifting your hand to show him. “See? No burn. Laura’s just being thorough.”

“She’s not wrong to be,” Logan muttered, his sharp eyes scanning you as if to confirm you were telling the truth.

Laura crossed her arms, mirroring Logan’s stance. “She needs to be more careful,” she said with a seriousness far beyond her years.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Alright, alright. I’ll be more careful. You two can call off the safety patrol now.”

“Not a chance,” Logan said with a smirk. “We know you too well.”

Rolling your eyes, you went back to stirring the sauce, but you couldn’t ignore the way Laura stayed glued to your side, her watchful eyes tracking your every move.

“Laura,” you said gently, glancing down at her. “I’m fine. Why don’t you go back to your bunny and let me finish up here?”

Her brow furrowed, but she hesitated, glancing at Logan. He gave her a small nod, and she reluctantly climbed back onto her stool, though she kept her bunny close and her eyes on you.

Logan pushed off the doorframe and walked over, resting a hand on your lower back as he leaned in to check the sauce. “Smells good,” he murmured, his voice low.

“It would smell better if you stopped hovering,” you teased, elbowing him lightly.

He chuckled, his hand staying on your back. “Can’t help it, darlin’. You know that.”

“I do,” you admitted softly, meeting his eyes. “And I appreciate it. Both of you.”

Laura perked up at that, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Good,” she said. “You should.”

Logan grinned, ruffling her hair as she giggled. You couldn’t help but smile at the scene—the three of you in the kitchen, the warmth of the moment settling over you like a blanket. For the first time in a long while, everything felt right.

“Alright,” you said, breaking the silence as you picked up the spoon again. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Go set the table, you two.”

Laura hopped off her stool, grabbing her bunny as she darted toward the dining room. Logan lingered a moment longer, his hand brushing against yours as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured.

You smiled, glancing up at him. “And don’t you forget it.”

He smirked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before following Laura. The kitchen fell quiet again, save for the music playing softly in the background, and you let yourself bask in the peace of the moment.

---

You raised an eyebrow to yourself as you turned the corner, carefully listening to the footsteps behind you turning from two pairs to one pair.

Students moved out of the way as Charles rolled down the hall, “hello, Professor.” You said, with a smile.

“Hello, Y/N.” Charles rolled past, offering you a kind smile. He didn’t get far before spotting Logan and Laura entering the hallway behind you, the young girl perched comfortably on Logan’s shoulders. “And hello to you two.”

Laura gave a small wave, her hand clutching her bunny. Logan nodded, his grip firm on Laura’s ankles to keep her steady. “Charles,” Logan said, his tone gruff but polite.

“You’re all heading to the kitchen, I take it?” Charles asked, an amused glint in his eye as he noted how closely Logan and Laura were sticking to you.

“Yeah,” you replied, adjusting your glasses. “Someone promised Laura she could pick her dessert for after dinner. Now she’s making sure I follow through.”

Laura leaned forward slightly, her chin resting on Logan’s head. “She’s not allowed to forget,” she added, her voice serious.

Logan smirked. “She’s like me—sticks to her word. You don’t gotta worry about that.”

Charles chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Well, I’ll leave you all to it. Enjoy your evening.”

“You too,” you said as Charles wheeled off, his presence leaving the hall feeling quieter.

Logan shifted Laura slightly before following you into the kitchen. Inside, Jean and Scott were already seated at the island. Jean was flipping through a magazine, and Scott was fiddling with his glasses, a steaming cup of tea in front of him.

“Hey,” Jean greeted with a smile. “How’s it going?”

“Busy,” you replied with a small laugh, heading to the counter. Logan stayed close, setting Laura down carefully as she scampered over to sit beside Jean.

Scott grabbed another cup of tea and handed it to you. “Figured you might need this.”

You accepted it with a polite nod. “Thanks, Scott.” You took a tentative sip, the warmth spreading through you—until the taste hit. Immediately, you fought to keep your expression neutral, but a slight grimace slipped through.

Jean caught your eye and raised a brow, mouthing, it’s bad, isn’t it?

You gave a subtle nod as you swallowed. Terrible.

Scott tilted his head, watching you curiously. “How is it?”

You hesitated, glancing at Jean for backup, but she just smirked and sipped her water. “It’s, uh…” You cleared your throat. “Unique. Thanks for making it.”

Scott grinned. “Unique’s good. I’ll take that.”

Laura leaned forward, her bunny in her lap. “Can I taste it?” she asked innocently.

“No!” you and Jean said in unison, a little too quickly. Logan stifled a laugh, shaking his head as Laura blinked in confusion.

Jean smoothly recovered, putting a hand on Laura’s shoulder. “Tea’s not really for kids, sweetie. Stick to your dessert plan.”

Laura shrugged, seemingly satisfied, and turned back to her bunny. Logan stepped closer, leaning his hip against the counter near you. “Unique, huh?” he said low enough that only you could hear.

You shot him a look. “Don’t start.”

He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Never said a word.”

Jean leaned back in her chair, looking between the two of you with a knowing smile. “So, what’s on the dessert menu tonight?”

“Laura’s call,” you replied, glancing at the girl. “What’ll it be, kiddo?”

Laura’s face lit up. “Ice cream. With chocolate syrup. And sprinkles.”

Scott winced. “You’re braver than I am. That’s a sugar rush waiting to happen.”

“She’s got Logan to burn it off later,” Jean teased.

Logan smirked. “Bring it on.”

You sighed dramatically. “Great. Guess I’m stuck cleaning the aftermath.”

Logan’s hand brushed against yours, his touch grounding. “You’re never stuck. We’ve got it covered.”

You met his eyes, his sincerity making your chest tighten. For a moment, it was just the two of you, the world fading into the background. Then Laura tugged at your sleeve, breaking the moment.

“Let’s go, Y/N!” she said excitedly. “The ice cream’s waiting.”

With a smile, you nodded, following her to the freezer. Logan stayed close, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back, and for a brief second, you wondered if he even realized he was doing it—or if it was as unconscious as the way Laura hovered near you this past month.

---

You hadn’t checked your calendar in a few weeks, either too busy with the summer class you were teaching or too busy with Laura and Logan hovering over your every move.

Luckily, it was the first time in weeks that neither of them were to be found. The two of them were outside with the other young kids and Ororo.

You marked off each day with an ‘X’ after double-checking that everything had been done. June 20: New toothbrushes. June 25: Clean bathroom. June 30: Wash bedsheets (unless already washed). July 9-15: Period.

You waited a moment, looking at the calendar. It was July 21, so not too far off from when you were supposed to get your period. You marked an ‘X’ throughout the week, leaving the 21st unmarked.

Putting on your slippers, you headed down to the med bay where Jean should be; she told you the other night she had some reorganizing to do.

Opening the doors, you saw Jean wiping down one of the medical beds, a clipboard resting on the counter nearby. She glanced up as you entered, her expression softening into a smile.

"Hey, Y/N. What's up? Need me to patch someone up again, or is this a social visit?" she teased, setting the cloth aside.

You shook your head, adjusting your glasses. "Neither, actually. Just... something I wanted to run by you."

Jean gestured to one of the stools by the counter, her curiosity piqued. "Alright. What's going on?"

Sliding onto the stool, you sighed softly. "It’s probably nothing, but I figured I’d ask. My period’s late—about a week or so." You hesitated, glancing at her. "I’m not too worried, but I wanted to see if that’s normal. Hormone fluctuations or stress maybe?"

Jean’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Could be either. It’s been unusually hot lately, and I know Ororo mentioned she was late a while back because of it. Stress can throw things off, too. Have you been under a lot of pressure lately?"

You gave a small laugh. "A little. Between teaching and keeping an eye on Laura and Logan hovering every second, it’s been a lot. Not bad, though—just busy."

Jean nodded, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. "It doesn’t sound alarming, but if you’re feeling off, we can do some tests—just to rule anything out. Plus, it’s about time for your yearly checkup, right?"

You nodded, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Might as well knock it all out at once."

Jean offered a reassuring smile. "Good call. Let’s run some blood tests and take a look. Probably nothing, but better safe than sorry."

You followed her instructions, extending your arm as she prepped for the blood draw. Jean worked efficiently, her movements calm and practiced. When she was done, she labeled the vials and gave your arm a gentle pat.

"That’s it for now. Results will take a little bit, so sit tight," she said, nodding toward the stool. "I’ll run these through."

You settled back, trying to distract yourself by scrolling through your phone. After what felt like forever but was probably only twenty minutes, Jean returned with a peculiar expression—one that made your stomach twist in uncertainty. She had something behind her back.

"Okay," she began, her tone light but her eyes sharp. "Before I say anything, I need you to trust me and just do this."

She revealed a pregnancy test and handed it to you. Your brows shot up in confusion. "Jean, why are you giving me this? I told you, that’s not—"

"Just humor me," she interrupted, her tone firm but kind. "Go. Take it. I’ll explain after."

You stared at her, baffled. "You’re being cryptic, and I hate it."

She smirked faintly. "I know. Go. Please."

Grumbling under your breath, you grabbed the test and headed for the restroom. A few minutes later, you emerged, holding the test carefully in your hand.

Jean looked up, her expression unreadable. "Well?"

"It’s not done yet," you said, setting it on the counter. "What exactly are we doing here, Jean?"

"Just waiting," she replied smoothly, but there was a tension in her posture that you couldn’t ignore.

The two of you stood in silence, the seconds dragging on until the test’s display showed the result. Your breath caught when you saw the word: pregnant.

You stared at it, blinking as though it might change. "Jean," you said slowly, turning to her. "This can’t be right. I mean... after everything—this can’t—"

Jean stepped closer, her hands gently gripping your shoulders. "The blood test confirmed it, Y/N. You’re pregnant."

The words hit you like a freight train, your mind reeling. You shook your head, unable to process. "No. That’s not possible. We stopped trying years ago. There’s no way—"

"I know it’s a lot to take in," Jean said gently. "But the results don’t lie."

Tears blurred your vision, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "How?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jean’s smile was warm, her eyes shining with understanding. "Sometimes, things happen when you least expect them."

You couldn’t find the words, your hands trembling as you clutched the test. Jean pulled you into a hug, her presence grounding you.

"Take your time," she said softly. "And when you’re ready, you can tell him."

---

You paced the bedroom later that night, the pregnancy test—one of many you took for your own peace of mind—in your hand.

The last time you did this; it didn’t end so well. And though Jean guessed you were 5 weeks along, only one week away from when you had the miscarriage, it didn’t do anything to quell your nerves.

Part of you wanted to wait until you passed 6 weeks to spare Logan the pain of losing another baby, but the other part of you wanted to throw up at the thought of keeping it away from him.

Before you could spiral further, the bedroom door opened, and you quickly slipped the test into the pocket of your robe. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as Logan stepped inside, his expression softening when he saw you. He had that familiar, slightly worried look—one that said he’d been thinking about you but didn’t know how to bring it up.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Logan greeted, closing the door behind him. His voice was calm, but there was a subtle edge to it. “You alright? Haven’t seen you much since breakfast.”

You forced a smile, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, just… busy.”

He stepped closer, his piercing eyes scanning your face, and for a moment, you thought he might somehow already know. But he didn’t say anything, just settled a hand on your shoulder. His touch was warm, grounding you in the moment.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice gentler now.

You nodded, taking a breath. “Yeah, but there’s, um… something I need to talk to you about.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. “Alright. What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, your fingers brushing the edge of the test in your pocket. The words felt heavy, like they didn’t want to leave your throat. But you knew you couldn’t keep this from him, no matter how scared you were.

“I went to see Jean earlier,” you started, your voice quieter than you intended. Logan’s brow furrowed slightly, but he stayed silent, letting you continue. “I wasn’t feeling off or anything—just… noticed my period was late. So, she ran some tests.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly, his protective instincts kicking in. “What kind of tests? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “At least… I think it is. She ran a blood test, and, um…” You trailed off, finally pulling the test out of your pocket and holding it out to him. “I’m pregnant.”

Logan stared at the test in your hand, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly, he took it from you, his fingers brushing yours. His eyes lingered on the word displayed on the test, and you saw the exact moment it registered.

“Pregnant,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze snapped back to you, searching your face. “You’re… serious?”

You nodded, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Jean thinks I’m about five weeks along. I didn’t think it was even possible, Logan. We tried so long, and then…” You swallowed hard, unable to finish the sentence.

Logan stepped closer, cupping your face in his hands. His touch was steady, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Hey, hey,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. “Darlin’, don’t—don’t do that. This ain’t like before, alright? We’re not gonna think about that.”

A small, shaky laugh escaped you. “I don’t know how to not think about it. I’m terrified, Logan. What if—”

He cut you off, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “No ‘what ifs.’ Not this time,” he said firmly. “We’re gonna take this one day at a time, together. And if you’re scared, that’s alright—I’ll be scared with you. But I’m not gonna let you go through this alone.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “I was going to wait until we passed six weeks to tell you. Just in case…”

Logan pulled back slightly, his hands still cradling your face. “You shouldn’t have to carry that by yourself,” he said softly. “Doesn’t matter if it’s five weeks, five days, or five minutes—I wanna be here for all of it. Every second.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks, and Logan pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. His hand rested on the back of your head, his other arm wrapped securely around your waist. You clung to him, your face buried against his chest.

“I don’t know how this happened,” you admitted, your voice muffled.

Logan kissed the top of your head, his voice low and steady. “Don’t matter how, sweetheart. All that matters is it happened. And I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure you and the baby are alright. You hear me?”

You nodded against his chest, his words soothing some of the fear that had been clawing at you. For the first time that day, you felt a small flicker of hope, fragile but there nonetheless.

Logan pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand brushing a tear from your cheek. “We’re gonna be alright,” he said softly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “All three of us.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and for the first time that day, you believed him.

this takes place in 2016 and part of 2017!

also... finally😭😭it's been a long journey for them

[probablyasocialecologist]

Reporting from multiple outlets suggests that Trump and his Middle East envoy, Steve Witkoff, played a decisive role in forcing Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s hand. In a January 7 press conference from Mar-a-Lago, Trump warned that “all hell will break out” if a hostage deal wasn’t reached before his inauguration. “It wasn’t a warning to Hamas. It was a warning to Netanyahu,” Steve Bannon told Politico, which also quoted former Israeli prime minister Ehud Olmert as saying Netanyahu agreed to the deal “because he’s afraid of Trump.” “The prime minister was dragged into this deal against his will and was unable to resist. He understood the consequences of disappointing Trump even before he reached the White House,” a Netanyahu associate told Al-Monitor, which also cited a former top Israeli official who said, “Netanyahu knows that with Trump he will not be able to wipe the floor as he did with Democratic presidents—like Clinton, Obama and Biden.” Witkoff reportedly told the Israeli prime minister to his face: “Don’t fuck this up.” And Netanyahu has already paid a political price: this past weekend, Israel’s settler-extremist national security minister Itamar Ben-Gvir resigned from Netanyahu’s shaky far-right governing coalition over the ceasefire deal, after standing with Netanyahu for fifteen months of genocidal warfare backed by the Biden administration.

[...]

In the same week that the ceasefire deal was tentatively announced, two other stories broke that spotlighted the extent of Biden’s moral and political failure in Palestine. One was The Lancet’s publication, subsequently covered in the New York Times, of a peer-reviewed study of traumatic injury deaths in the Gaza Strip from October 7, 2023 through June 30, 2024. The study estimated that the Palestinian Ministry of Health underreported such deaths by 41 percent during that period, and that over 64,000 Palestinians, many of them women and children, had died from traumatic injury, a figure that does not include the untold thousands more who died of starvation or disease resulting from Israel’s bombardment of Gaza’s infrastructure (a previous analysis published by The Lancet estimated total Palestinian deaths to that point at over 186,000). Another six months of nonstop devastation in Gaza have passed since the data for The Lancet study was collected. The exact casualty numbers may never be known and in a sense are irrelevant, as no one seriously doubts that Israel has inflicted indiscriminate collective punishment against a captive civilian population, in what has been declared a genocide by Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and multiple world-renowned genocide experts (including some initial skeptics), and ruled at least “plausibly” genocidal by the International Court of Justice. The other story that broke last week was an Institute for Middle East Understanding poll that made the most plausible case to date that Biden’s handling of Gaza might have cost Harris the election. Unlike most polls, which focus on what voters overall in 2024 prioritized in the presidential race—typically, economic issues like inflation—the IMEU poll focuses on the millions of Biden 2020 voters who opted for a candidate other than Harris in 2024, whether that meant Trump or a third-party candidate. Among this subset of the electorate, a 29 percent plurality named “ending Israel’s violence in Gaza” as the most important issue in deciding their vote, with even higher percentages in the key battleground states of Arizona, Michigan, and Wisconsin. While no single factor can account for Harris’s shutout in all seven battleground states or Trump’s popular vote win, the IMEU poll provides strong evidence for what seemed anecdotally obvious throughout last year: the Biden-Harris team’s unapologetic support for Israel’s genocide alienated meaningful numbers of potential supporters.

21 January 2025

[its-avalon-08]

📣 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖 📣

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

🏁 pairing : Lando Norris x Piastri!Sister!Reader

🏎️ summary: she’s oscar piastri’s little sister — sarcastic, sharp, and completely uninterested in drivers. he’s lando norris — charming, persistent, and suddenly very interested in her. she came for oscar. she didn’t plan on falling for the one person she should’ve stayed away from.

themes : fluff, flirting, over protective brother, anxiety

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter 3 : getting closer

Y/N sat cross-legged on the hospitality couch, laptop finally safe and secured in her tote. Lando plopped down a few feet away, spinning a cold water bottle between his hands, glancing over at her every so often.

“So,” he said, eyes flicking up, “medical research, huh?”

She smiled, head tilting. “Don’t say it like that. You make it sound like I’m building Frankenstein in a lab.”

“Are you?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, leaning back into the couch. “But mine would be prettier. And less... stabby.”

Lando laughed. “Noted. If you start working on a charming British prototype, I volunteer.”

“Oh no, he’d be smart and emotionally available. So definitely not you.”

He feigned offense, dramatically clutching his chest. “Ouch. You wound me mini Piastri.”

“Good you deserve it Norris,” she said sweetly, sipping from her water.

There was a brief pause as he smiled down at his hands.

“You always like this?” he asked.

She blinked. “Define ‘like this.’”

“Just—sharp. Funny. A little terrifying.”

She grinned. “I prefer the term intellectually intimidating with a touch of grace.”

He snorted. “So terrifying.”

She let out a breathy laugh and looked at him properly then, taking in the messy curls still damp from his helmet, the playful glint in his eye that softened every time he looked at her. “I don’t usually let people see me panic,” she said quietly.

“I don’t think less of you,” he said without hesitation. “Actually... kind of the opposite.”

She raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Because I lost an entire laptop?”

“No. Because you cared enough to freak out,” he said, voice lighter than usual but still sincere. “Shows it matters. I respect that. It's impressive to know you cared about your research and I don't know, it just makes you seem human.”

There was a beat.

Y/N looked down, twisting the edge of her laptop sleeve. “You’re different in person.”

“Yeah?” he asked, nudging her sneaker with his.

She nodded. “Less Instagram, more human.”

He laughed. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all week.”

“Glad I could keep you humble.”

They shared a smile, something lingering in the air between them now—barely there, but it buzzed under her skin.

Lando leaned back on his elbows, looking out toward the terrace. “You know... you're a good balance for him.”

She blinked. “Who?”

“Oscar. You ground him. In a funny way. Like... you don’t let him get away with being too serious.”

She chuckled. “He’s been that way since birth. I came out cracking jokes. Balance, I guess.”

He glanced at her. “So what grounds you?”

She paused, caught off guard by the question.

“…Honestly? Quiet. Soft things. Long showers. Instrumentals. My work. Stuff that’s mine and no one else’s.”

He nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”

She looked at him sideways. “You’re surprisingly introspective for someone who literally says hee hee in interviews.”

He burst into laughter. “Okay, rude, but fair.”

She zipped up her tote and stood up, slinging it over her shoulder. “Alright, Mr. Not-Charming. I have data sets to cry over and a brother to yell at.”

Lando stood too, brushing invisible lint off his suit pants. “Sure you don’t wanna stick around and psychoanalyze me some more?”

She smirked, adjusting her sunglasses. “You couldn’t handle it.”

He watched her for a second, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression. “You’re probably right.”

She gave him a small, sincere smile. “Thanks again. Really.”

“Anytime, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft.

She turned, walking off down the paddock, hair swaying, laptop safe and her heart maybe just a little unsteady—though she'd never admit that part.

Lando stood there a beat longer, hands in his pockets, watching the spot where she'd just been.

And for the first time that weekend, he wasn’t thinking about the race.

-

A few weeks have passed.

-

The soft hum of a late-night show played quietly in the background, casting flickering shadows across Oscar’s apartment. The warm, dim light from the lamp next to the couch bathed the living room in a comforting glow. Lily tucked herself into his side, blanket pulled up to her chin, legs tangled with his under the throw.

Oscar absentmindedly played with a strand of her hair, but his jaw was tight—there was a tension in his eyes that hadn’t faded since dinner.

Lily noticed, of course she did.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours baby?” she asked softly, tilting her head to look up at him.

Oscar let out a short breath through his nose. “It’s nothing my love.” He kissed her forehead.

Lily just raised an eyebrow. No words. Just that. The eyebrow. The one that made Oscar cave every single time. Her eyes looked right into his soul.

“Okay,” he said finally. “It’s Lando.”

“…Lando?” she blinked. “What did he do now? Use your shampoo again?”

Oscar scowled. “No. Worse. He’s… hovering around Y/N.”

Lily held back a smile. “Hovering?”

“You know what I mean.”

—

[cut to: Y/N’s apartment – late night]

Her laptop was open in front of her, half-finished notes blinking on a Word doc, but her phone lit up with another text.

Lando [11:48 PM]: you know if you were here i’d be making you toast rn. like the fancy kind. with cinnamon and stuff.

Y/N [11:49 PM]: you say that like i don’t have a toaster also cinnamon toast is so 2006

Lando [11:49 PM]: excuse you it’s timeless

Y/N [11:50 PM]: you’re lucky you’re kind of funny Norris

—

Back in the apartment, Lily sat up a little.

“Oscar… Y/N’s not a kid. You don’t have to monitor everyone who breathes near her. I mean you can't. She's her own person Osc.”

Oscar’s expression turned steely. “I know she’s not a kid. But that doesn’t mean I trust everyone who suddenly wants to be close to her.”

“She and Lando haven’t even—”

“She better not,” he snapped. “Not with him.”

Lily blinked at the sharpness in his tone.

Oscar scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “My love I'm sorry. Didn't mean that. It's just that Lando’s my teammate. My friend. But he’s… Lando.”

“And what exactly does that mean?”

“It means he flirts with literally everyone, doesn’t think before he speaks, and has the emotional depth of a teaspoon most days.”

“Harsh.”

Oscar’s voice dropped. “She’s been through enough, Lily. After that idiot ex—after the way he messed with her head, made her feel small and stupid—she deserves peace. Not… not another guy who’s gonna say all the right things and leave.”

—

[cut to: paddock – a week earlier]

Y/N stood next to Lando near the McLaren garage, both of them eating frozen grapes from a little cup one of the staff handed them.

“Okay,” he said, mouth full. “Top five medical facts that would terrify the average human.”

She smirked. “Number one, the human stomach has more neurons than a cat’s brain.”

He paused. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“…Does that mean my stomach’s smarter than me?”

She popped a grape into her mouth. “Statistically? Possibly.”

He burst out laughing.

—

Back in the apartment, Lily squeezed his arm gently. “But Y/N… she’s happy lately.”

“She’s always happy around people. Doesn’t mean she’s not hiding it.” Oscar’s jaw clenched. “I know her. I know when she’s guarding herself.”

Lily looked at him carefully. “Are you sure this is about her? Or are you scared because you can’t control this?”

Oscar flinched, eyes dark. “I don’t care if I sound controlling. I don’t. She’s my sister. And no one—not even Lando—is getting near her if I don’t think they’re good enough.”

—

[cut to: Y/N’s hotel room – midnight FaceTime]

Her phone buzzed and she propped it up with her water bottle, revealing a very cozy, hoodie-clad Lando, sprawled across a hotel bed.

“Why are you still awake?” she asked, hiding a smile.

He grinned. “Couldn’t sleep. Missed your voice.”

“You heard my voice this afternoon.”

“Yeah, well. Withdrawal.”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

She didn’t answer that. Just looked at him through the screen for a moment.

He went quiet too. Then, gently— “You ever gonna tell your brother we talk?”

Her smile faded a bit, something thoughtful passing through her expression.

“Eventually,” she said quietly. “When I know what this is.”

Lando didn’t press. He just nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “No pressure.”

But his smile told her he already knew what this was.

And maybe, deep down, so did she.

taglist: @landofotographyy @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @rd14 @stylesmoonlight12 @azuramicah @il0vereadingstuff @star73807-blog @sltwins @dustie-faerie @stylesmoonlight12 @lauralarsen @ayatotiddies @carey86 @hescrush @xnatqq @downsideup1989 @lilorose25 @henna006