#(Hello darkness my old friend I’m always tired to no end this schedules got me all fuked up

[keepermcge]

Anyway, can someone tell Lann they love him.

[ijustwant2write]

Subtle-Remus Lupin x Professor!Reader

(GIF credit to @shurley​)

Requested by anonymous: ‘hello! can i request professor remus lupin x professor reader where they are married but try to keep it in secret just to avoid gossip but eventually students get suspicious because of their closeness? thank you, love your work💕’

Characters: Remus Lupin X Professor!Reader, Severus Snape x Reader (platonic), Minerva Mcgonagall x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name 

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Fluff, gossiping, hiding relationship/feelings

                                      *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Please make sure your homework is completed and handed in to me at the beginning of tomorrows lesson. You’ve had a week to complete it, so I expect full pile on my desk.” I shouted over the hustle of the students packing away their things.

I hated having the last lesson of the day. No one was focused, they were tired from their other classes, and all they could think about was getting to the Great Hall for dinner; although I was exactly the same, I couldn’t wait for a good meal. Now alone, I started to tidy up my classroom, yawning when I realised how tired I was as well. Luckily, it was the end of the week, and this weekend I was chaperoning the students to Hogsmeade, meaning I could have some retail therapy. I heard the door open, thinking it was a student who had forgotten something, but I was pleasantly surprised when I saw my husband waltz in.

“Oh, hello you.” I smiled as I approached him.

“Hello you.” he leaned down to kiss me before glancing around the room.“Need any help before dinner?”

“No, not tonight. I’ve just got to put a few things away in my desk.”

I went back to tidying, making sure I wasn’t coming back to a mess after the weekend, and that everything was in its right place.

He perched on a student desk.“Are you still going to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

“Of course. I can’t wait.”

“Did you want to...did you want to go for a drink?”

“I don’t think we should be drinking whilst looking after the students Remus.”

“We won’t have anything alcoholic. Perhaps even a meal?”

“What if someone sees us?”

“How many students have we seen go into a restaurant on any trip, hm? And if they do, it’s a meal between friends!”

“You know, I don’t think that whole story about us being old friends worked.”

He suddenly looked panicked.“Why? Have the children been saying anything?”

“No. I can just see it in their faces.”

“You’re overthinking this. It’ll be fine. Let me treat you.” a charming smile spread across his face.

I rolled my eyes, giving in.“Alright. But I’ve got to pop round some of the shops first.”

He groaned.“So we’ll have time for a starter then?”

I scoffed a laugh at him, grabbing a nearby scroll to hit him with.“I might be going shopping for you, did you ever think of that? I am a very loving wife after all.”

He chuckled, shielding himself.“Alright, alright!”

“Plus, and as much as it pains me to say this, we’ll be apart for a while. That means students won’t see us together.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right. We haven’t been too careful as of late.”

“Saying that, should we head to dinner?”

I walked out of the classroom first, checking the corridors, and like always at this time, they were empty. We freely walked towards the Great Hall, daringly holding hands whilst we were still far away. But as it neared, we sadly looked at each other, having to let go. It broke my heart that we had to hide our marriage, we couldn’t even wear our wedding rings for fear of being questioned, and accidentally revealing a detail that was too specific towards each other. 

“You two might want to be more careful if you don’t want your secret out.” the monotone voice of Severus said behind us. How was he always so quiet?

Remus sighed.“Well, do you see any students?”

“I was able to sneak up on you,” we were at the entrance of the Great Hall now,“and with all this chatter amongst the students, I would take extra precaution. The gossip is starting to disrupt my lessons.”

He walked away from us, and we glanced at each other. Severus was horribly truthful about these kind of things. I was right. The students had their suspicions. 

“Remus, what are we going to do?”

We began walking towards the head table.“Relax, we’ll draw more attention to ourselves otherwise. Look, just forget about what he said. I’m sure it’s a group of first years thinking they’ve discovered something and have irritated him.”

Although he was attempting to comfort me, the dreadful feeling of all the students eyes on me was making me feel sick. It wasn’t that I was ashamed to be with Remus, I loved him with my whole heart, I couldn’t wait to be with him forever. When we both got a job at Hogwarts, we had had a long discussion beforehand. Obviously we were excited to have new jobs, until I thought back to a friend who also worked with her partner. They were open with it, and unfortunately, the students would gossip, make up rude stories and interfere, ask too many questions to get into their personal life. It was awful for them. It sounds like a bunch of children ‘bullying’ professors wouldn’t effect them, you should be able to handle children as a professor; but it really took a tole on them.

"Chin up dear," Minerva said as everyone started eating,"I'm sure this will all pass by."

"You might be right. But I can't help thinking...maybe everyone knows." I stated down at my plate.

"Would that really be so bad?"

"I just don't want them talking about us. I've seen it happen to my friends, and I know a lot of married couples aren't work together because of it."

"Perhaps you two will be different."

I sighed."How many times has someone said that?"

"But, don't they see you leaving the castle together?"

"We said that we live near each other so we share lifts to work. It was the only thing we could come up with."

There was empathy on her face."It will all be fine (Y/N), just you wait and see."

The next day had arrived, meaning it was time to chaperone the students to Hogsmeade. When we returned home last night, I had dropped the subject, knowing Remus was much calmer about all of this than I was. I would only cause a fuss, which would perhaps lead to a small argument between us; and I didn't want the tension there tomorrow, if anything came out of this trip, I wanted to enjoy my time with Remus.

"Are you sure I cannot accompany you on the way there?" Remus had asked as the children's permission slips were approved.

I nodded."I just think it's best to split up for a few hours, then we'll meet up at that restaurant, yeah?" 

"Alright, see you later." 

In any other circumstance, we would have shared a small kiss before leaving one another, but everyone was here. A small smile graced our lips as he walked away, though mine disappeared as soon as he turned around. Sighing to myself, I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to keep warm as my group was assigned to me. 

The students practically ran off as soon as we got there, leaving me alone to wander. Remus was no where to be seen, but we had a set time to meet up. For now, it was aimless wandering.

I couldn't stop checking my watch throughout the day. I was too excited to see my husband, have a dinner out together. Teaching was hard, it took up so much time. Although in the evenings Remus and I were together, we weren't actually together. We weren't present because we would probably be marking papers. And having to constantly remember to hide our love at work was tiring and infuriating. Passing some students in shops, I politely smiled, maybe asked if they were having a good day or making sure they stayed in line, before it was finally time to meet my husband. 

There was much more of a spring in my step as I made my way to the designated restaurant. Luckily the number of students got smaller as I strayed away from the main hustle and bustle of Hogsmeade, though they should be minding their own business anyway (that would have avoided this whole mess in the first place). I almost missed the place because it was so small. It was made out of old, dark brick, with a narrow but long window, made of old wooden panes. The door was also small, and I smiled at the thought of Remus ducking through it. 

It felt more like a cafe than a restaurant. Like the window, it was long and narrow, tables either side of the room, because if there were tables lining down the middle, no one would be able to move. Remus caught my attention by standing up from our table. 

"You look beautiful." he greeted, kissing me. 

I scoffed as I sat."You knew what I was wearing, we do live together."

"Doesn't mean you're not beautiful." 

I bashfully smiled."You're still able to make me blush after all these years."

"Good, I must be doing something right then."

The lunch together reminded me of old times. It was easy to forget about the stress that had been piled on top of our usual schedule in that moment. We laughed, started reminiscing on our lives when we met each other, it was as if we were catching up after not seeing each other for a long time. When we weren't eating, one of our hands was holding onto each other. I knew I had to cherish every moment, especially since it went by far too quickly. 

We found ourselves putting on our coats and scarves, taking a few seconds to just gaze at each other. Neither of us wanted to leave. We felt safe here, hidden away from any prying students. Our marriage shouldn't have been hidden, we loved each other, it was supposed to be shown. 

"Ready?" he asked. 

"Ready."

We quickly kissed each other before making our way to the door. Thanking a waitress as we passed by, I was about to open the door when something in the window caught my eye. My heart dropped as I spotted three children poking their heads up, watching us until they realised they had been caught. 

"Remus!" I snapped."We've been spotted."

He had his usual calm tone."We're just two friendly colleagues getting lunch, there's nothing wrong in that." 

"We don't know how long they've been there. What if they saw us kissing?!" 

"Very friendly colleagues?" 

I huffed as I opened the door, trying to see if the kids were still there. They had started running off in the distance, headed in the direction of our meeting point. We had to head back now, it was the end of the trip, and I was expecting a lot of hushed whispers as we arrived. 

"Professor (Y/L/N)?" a fourth year student approached me as we rounded up our groups for counting. 

Here we go. 

"Yes?" 

She seemed nervous, glancing back at her friends."Um...just so you know, we all think you and Professor Lupin make a really cute couple. Like, you two are probably the coolest professors we have."

I was shocked by her words."O-Oh. Thank you...that's a very nice thing to say." 

She just smiled before leaving to join her friends again. There had been no point lying to her, it was obvious to everyone. But that small opinion meant a lot to me. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad thing to put our marriage on display.

" You see?" Remus approached me."It's not as bad as you thought."

"No, I guess not. I just...I didn't want anything to effect us."

"You're my wife. I love you with all my being. A few gossiping children wouldn't change any of that."

He leaned in to kiss me again, but I giggled as I stopped him.

"What?"

"We may let them know about our marriage, but PDA from staff is still frowned upon." 

"Do you know how hard it is to resist you?" 

"Guess we'll have to make up for it when we're home."

[dat-town]

wish you were here

Characters: Mark Lee & you

Setting: wish dragon au (and a bit of aladdin because mark even has a tiger in their garden like jasmine did. don’t ask why, just blame the regular mv), childhood best friends to lovers (at least there’s potential?)

Genre: fluff and humour

Warnings: mentions of a sick animal and a wild animal kept as a pet in a huge garden (just like jasmine’s tiger, it’s very tamed)

Summary: A magical teapot, a dragon that wants everyone to be happy and an old friendship being revived. Oh yeah, have I told you that you have 3 wishes?

Words: 6.4k

For @restlessmaknae​ 💕

When your mother told you you got delivery to your childhood home, you certainly did not expect this: a brown box as big as a small watermelon with your old Canadian address and MARK LEE scrabbled next to your name as another recipient but no sender. Not to mention, the first stamp on the thing was dating back to the early 2010s. Where the hell was this package for 10 years? And what would you and your old neighbour slash best friend have gotten together?

Okay, first things first:

You and this clumsy, kind of cute kid, Mark had been quite tight while growing up. You were born in the same year, only a month apart, and his family lived in the house next to yours in the suburbs of Vancouver, so it was kind of natural. You two might have been against the world kind of comrades, playing hide and seek when you were six and wondering about whether time travelling was possible through black holes at twelve. But no matter how close you used to be, you fell out of touch when Mark's family moved to the other end of the world, back to Korea, their roots when you were fourteen. You slowly forgot about him, and started university in the city, moving away from home, so nothing really reminded you of him ⎼ and your stupid, big fat crush on him that you had no courage to tell him about in middle school ⎼, nothing until this box.

You put the delivered package on your kitchen table while you make some dinner for yourself out of what you have gotten during grocery shopping earlier just before you picked up the mysterious stuff at the post office. You eye it suspiciously over your pasta, really not wrapping your mind about what it could be but instead of annoying yourself with this pointless curiosity, you put your fork down and stand up to open it. It’s a struggle at first, the box being secured with multiple adhesive tapes over the years but when you finally get rid of all that and can look inside of it, an intense feeling rushes through you… immerse disappointment.

“A teapot? For real? What were we thinking?” you furrow your brows taking the small, green and pretty old teapot into your hands. It looks like a piece of a traditional Asian set with its jade colour and dragon pattern. It couldn’t have been in a much better shape 10 years ago either seeing how wayworn it is but still, you expected something more… exciting? Something funny that might or might not give you an excuse to look up Mark Lee on the internet and message him for the sake of old times. But how lame it would be to befriend him on Facebook only to tell him that you got delivered a teapot under both your names. Hah, you would rather not embarrass yourself like that.

You shoot one last glance at the teapot before leaving it on your counter and going back to your food, you successfully forget about the whole ordeal. You carry your life on with only one small difference: Mark Lee back on your mind after long, long years.

It was just a small crush, you tell yourself, sighing as you look into the mirror, absentmindedly wondering how he’s doing. Does he think of you sometimes as well? Did he go to music college like he has always wanted? Is he happy? You wish he was even if he’s half a world away and with that thought you think it’s time to go to sleep despite the upcoming weekend days. You don’t want to mess up your sleep schedule over some boy but as soon as you pull the blanket over your chest and close your eyes, something explodes in your kitchen.

You jump out of bed faster than lightning, in slight panic over the fact that your neighbours will hate you for bothering them late at night and your landlord would kill you if you managed to blow up your microwave. But the sight that welcomes you is like no other that you imagined. The whole room is covered in thick pink glittery smoke. Like your worst Barbie nightmare.

“What the⎼” you cough, waving your hands to clear the air and once it dissolves into nothingness with its weirdly cotton candy smell, there’s a boy in the middle of it all, sitting cross legged on your kitchen counter so casually as if he owned the place. His pink-ish purple hair hangs into his eyes and he seems to find your coffee machine strangely interesting. You grab the first thing you can ⎼ a blender ⎼ and hold it up in defensive before yelling at the boy: “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my apartment?”

The stranger’s mouth pulls up in a charming smile, his eyes sparkle as he turns his attention to you, hopping off the counter. He’s all thin and long limbs, so you hate how you hate to look up at him as he walks towards you before bowing ceremoniously.

“Hello, sorry for the sudden appearance, I just couldn’t wait any longer! I’ve been stuck in that teapot waaay too long. I didn’t mean to be rude or anything. My name is Taeyong, I’m a wish dragon and you’re my new owner,” he smiles and what he says makes absolutely no sense.

“A wish dragon?” you mumble in shock, looking around to see if this is just another prank of Johnny. You wouldn’t be surprised to see him jump out from under one of the cupboards. Or maybe you just fell asleep and you’re dreaming. Yeah, that seems like a realistic scenario.

“Ah, yes! I know I don’t look like it but modern times require modern solutions. Most people freak out because of my dragon form, so human it is,” the boy who seems only a few years older than you grins as he’s chatting and you have to give it to him, he takes this role pretty seriously. “You have three wishes as my owner. You can ask for anything as long as it’s not about death or love.”

So you got yourself someone who thinks he’s basically a genie? Oh gosh, is he that drunk?

“Aha, very funny. I’m too tired for this prank, so I would appreciate it if you left the same way you came...” you point towards your window because there’s no way he came through the door. Putting down your blender because the guy looks pretty harmless despite his crazy blabbering, you move to go back to your bedroom.

“No, no, no, I can’t do that,” the boy, Taeyong as he introduced himself, appears in front of you within a second and grabs your shoulder as if he could shake some sense into you. He looks pretty desperate. “I can only get a new owner if I fulfill all wishes of yours. It was super stuffy in that box the last decade, you know.”

At that excuse you let out a laugh.

“You don’t even fit it the⎼”

“You were saying?” Taeyong is suddenly nowhere near ahead of you but instead a small creature, supposedly a dragon, in the size of your palm flies in front of your eye level. “It’s magic!”

Okay, now that sight makes you feel like it’s you who is drunk. Or worse.

“Am I dead?” you have to ask in a small, uncertain voice, trying to think back what could have happened. Maybe that explosion literally blew your apartment up? But it hurts when you pinch your arm and turning back into his human form, Taeyong wants to prove the very same thing. Not the hurting but the not dead part, obviously.

“No, you’re very much alive and a happy owner of a wish dragon. Not permanently, of course, but still,” he tells you as he drags you onto your couch in the living room. As if sitting down could help processing all this.

So you have a wish dragon in your home, a magical creature that can casually switch between its dragon and human form and he says you should wish for three things, so he could leave and you could go back to your old, boring life without magic and things that scare you to death at 11PM.

“Can I ask… why? Why me? I’m not really owner-material,” you whisper because heck yeah, you even managed to kill your cactus before. Taeyong purses his lips as he sits down, a hand at his chin.

“Well, it’s unusual indeed to have a peasant girl, no offence, as my owner but as far as I know, you and your friend asked for a sign that magic was real.”

Oh, you remember that, being so obsessed with shooting stars and other stuff like that, you two used Mark’s brother’s computer to browse the internet, trying to find evidence about all that. You were kids wanting to believe in a world beyond the one you knew. But...

“That was like 10 years ago,” you furrow your eyebrows, not getting the timing.

“Well, sorry, you weren’t put on the top of the Heaven wish list and the shipping from Shanghai to Vancouver isn’t the fastest either,” Taeyong shrugs as if it was supposed to be natural. As if that was the most unbelievable thing. Well, delivery services are sometimes a pain in the ass, that’s true but getting a wish delivered by Heaven was something you would have never thought of and it all drains down on you. Strangest realisation of your life.

“So… it’s all real,” you whisper ahead of yourself: magic, dragons and all that. You could basically see your old best friend’s I told you so smile and let out a soft chuckle. “I wish Mark could meet with you, too.”

At that the guy ahead of you claps his hands and rubs them together, creating the same purple smoke from before. You look at him alarmed.

“Your wish, my command,” Taeyong grins and lifts his hands and before you could make a sound of protest because gosh, you didn’t mean it literally, you feel the ground move under your feet and you’re falling, into the darkness but despite shutting your eyes automatically, fearing the impact of the crash, nothing comes. Only the smell of soy sauce in the air and warm sunshine on your skin… Wait, what?

Your eyelids fly open and you notice in shock that you’re not in your flat anymore, ready to sleep. Instead, you stand in the middle of a goddamn street somewhere in Korea based on the signs still in your PJ shorts and tee. Oh my gosh! You hide in an alley right away and yank the seemingly proud Taeyong with you.

“I didn’t tell you that I meant right now! I can’t meet Mark in my PJs and I need my phone and wallet to function anyways. Not to mention, I don’t speak Korean at all...” you ramble panicking, the realisation that you’re indeed on the other side of the Earth due to some magic is yet to register. But the awkwardness from the stares you have just gotten has already turned you bashful.

Listening to you, the wish dragon seems sheepish and slightly embarrassed as he scratched his nape, his colourful hair falling into his cast down eyes.

“Oh… sorry. I got so excited over the wish that I didn’t think about it! It’s been a while since I did teleport magic but hey, I still have it in me. Anyways, sorry. Phone and wallet, you said? Here you go,” he pulls out something from his pants which magically seems to be indeed your belongings. That definitely makes things earlier.

“Uhm, thanks. Where are we exactly?”

“Ah, well you mentioned your friend Mark Lee, so we’re here. Well, one bell away because I did remember that it’s rude to intrude other’s houses without permission first,” oh now, you know, you snicker internally and gulp because hell, even if you wanted to see Mark, you wouldn’t have thought that the meeting would come so soon. You didn’t have enough time to prepare yourself mentally.

“So… you’re telling me that this… is where Mark lives?” you point at the impressive apartment complex on the corner of the street but Taeyong shakes his head.

“Nope, This is where your Mark lives,” he says and before you could object about the ‘your’ part, the dragon points at the other side of the road at a luxurious house with a huge garden, basically a palace. Seeing the beautiful fountain, the modern and yet traditional Korean style building beyond the fences makes your jaw drop.

“Hahaha, alright for a magic dragon you must have made a mistake. There’s no way the Mark Lee I know lives here,” you look back at Taeyong finding it funny that the kid who used to wore his favourite tees until his mother basically threw them out would live at such a place.

“Mark Lee, korean name Minhyung, supposed to be 22 years old internationally soon. Bad eyesight, contagious laugh, clumsy but has surprisingly good reflexes, gets embarrassed easily. Sound familiar?” Taeyong crooks a brow at you as he reads the information off from a parchment he just took out of his pants. Everything he listed is just so Mark that you’re left in disbelief.

“Uuh… that sounds about right.”

“His father hit it big in 2016 with a tech company, their net worth has too many zeros to count,” Taeyong explains, seeing how surprised you were over the fact that he lived a lavish life like this. Not that he doesn’t deserve it! Mark is such a sweetheart, so of course, you would only want the best for him but as if half the world wasn’t enough, now you have another huge gap between you.

“Gosh, I really can’t believe this. How am I supposed to just ring the bell and say hello after so much time?” you sighed with your head in your hands. “Argh, I need to buy some clothes and change.”

Taeyong approves the idea based on how enthusiastically he hollers, you wonder why nobody on the street seems to pay no attention to him. Maybe only you see him, just more reason for you to be crazy.

“Good idea because we’re having dinner with Mark!”

“What?” you look up in shock, not following through. Taeyong grins down at you, flashing a giddy smile and with a twirl he’s changed from his baggy, casual clothes to something more chic but still laidback.

“Your wish was him meeting me, so I arranged everything. I can't meet him without you and the teapot there, you know,” he explains as if it was supposed to be obvious. You aren't ready yet though.

“You just want to eat all the fancy delicious food he has,” you squint at him suspiciously and the dragon stays silent, so you must be right. He laughs nervously.

“Maybe, but can you blame me? I haven’t had a feast since a literal decade!” he hollers and somehow you really cannot find it in yourself to be angry at him. You are in Seoul for god's sake after all and magic is real, you can put up with the inconvenience of buying clothes and making yourself look decent before dumping all this surprise on Mark.

An hour later you stand in front of the gates of the Lee mansion and nervously you wipe your sweating hands into your dress. You can totally do this, you just say hi to an old friend, it's not like you're afraid he wouldn't remember you, hah, of course not–

"Y/N!" 

You whip your head at the call of your name to the source of that all too familiar voice. Sure it's deeper than you remember but there's no mistake in whose it is. Plus, who else would call your name in South Korea of all places.

"Mark, hey!" you wave the boy who just got out of one of the fanciest cars you've ever seen in your life. And yet, despite the Prada suit and expensive shoes, styled hair and Swiss watch on wrist, Mark Lee still has that goofy little smile and the doe eyes that used to make you weak in the knees. Hah, who are you kidding? They still do.

"Oh my god, dude, you… you got pretty," Mark jogs up to you and having no filter like always he blabbers immediately only to stutter as his ears turn red. It was so him talking before thinking, so you didn’t really mean to dwell on his words. Although you felt your cheeks dusted with pink soon enough. "I mean, it's really good to see you! I was so surprised to see your name in my calendar for today's dinner! You should have told me you were coming to Korea, I would have picked you up at the airport."

His calendar? Ah, of course, he must have been busy and all that. You wouldn’t have been surprised to see an assistant run after him at this point, so you wonder how your wish dragon magically put you onto his list of important people to meet. Gosh, it was so weird.

"Ah, I have a funny story about that…" you chuckled to yourself but before you could have get out anything, even a please, can we go to a more private place? Mark’s eyes zero on the guy next to you and his eyes grow comically wide.

"And uhm, who is your friend?" he points at Taeyong who waves him in exchange with a kilowatt smile. He looks back at you with his mouth agapé. "Oh my god, you came to invite me to your wedding?"

He says oh my god way too many times for an eloquent rich kid, he really is the Mark Lee you knew.

"No, never! I mean, of course, I would invite you but Taeyong and I– I literally met him on my way here," you explain hastily cursing yourself for the silly lie. You came to tell him the news not to try to make it believable. 

“I heard there’s food,” the wish dragon pipes in very helpful and you shoot him a disapproving glance he doesn’t notice. Luckily, Mark doesn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, yeah, of course, dinner! Come on in, let’s get you two settled,” he grins albeit a bit awkwardly as he leads you through the gate after opening it with his card.

On the way through the very, very, very big garden, he’s chattering about how he misses the Vancouver weather, especially on humid, hot days like this and talks about how he thinks the fountain in their yard is a bit too much but his mom loved it and then before you know it, you sit by a huge dining table with fine food in front of you. Suddenly you can’t decide whether you're grateful for Taeyong’s shameless presence – he digs into the jjigae right away – because at least the situation isn’t awkward because of your silence or you’re annoyed by it because you must seem like a weirdo because of him. That’s why you decide to rip off the bandage and tell Mark as soon as the last maid has disappeared too.

“Okay, so actually I came here because I have a surprise,” you speak up, probably too serious because the boy almost chokes on his food due to how fast he turns his head towards you.

“More surprise?” he coughs out and you offer him a glass of water which he takes with a smile.

“You literally won’t believe this one!” you assure him and wait until he gulps down the drink. Only then you point to Taeyong and tell him that your childhood wish has come true. 

Mark almost falls off his chair this time.

Not after you tell him that though. He laughs at that with that wheezing laugh of his as if you told the joke of the century then pats you on the shoulder murmuring That was a good one, bro and turning back to his food. But then you look at the magic dragon pointedly and Taeyong puts down his chopsticks with an exaggerated sign. Then he flexes his magic: turning into his dragon form among additional sparkles and Mark suddenly looks like he’s about to faint. He reaches out to tap on your shoulder while not taking his eyes off the wish dragon.

“Am I dreaming?” he whispers and honestly, you totally get his reaction while Taeyong mumbles something about ‘people these days not believing in dragons’ as he shows off all the things he could do: gift riches, make one stronger than they are, giving skills of whatever one wants. He starts rambling about how this one Chinese emperor became wealthy thanks to this, how that one actor in martial arts and all this before changing back to his human form and he continues eating his pasta like nothing ever happened.

“I can do this all day,” he shrugs as if he didn’t just perform the coolest magic tricks.

“This… this is the best thing ever!” Mark exclaims with those sparkles in his eyes you missed so much. He was always so excited about new things and it automatically makes you smile how he bombards Taeyong with million questions like: ‘So you are the wish dragon that grants wishes?’ or asking him about his scales, his unique color, how it feels to live in such a small teapot, how old he is and the dragon glows under all the attention. Can’t blame him but Mark has always been so curious about the world, it’s endearing.

“So your first wish was to meet me?” he turns to you after long minutes of interrogating Taeyong and suddenly, under the spotlight you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can feel yourself blushing because you didn’t necessarily mean to wish for that but it’s not like you’re regretting it, it’s just… you don’t want him to misunderstand.

“I thought you should meet him, too, after all the package was delivered for the two of us,” you look down, trying to sound nonchalant while picking your food, avoiding Mark’s gaze. No matter how open armed he welcomed you, you still aren’t convinced that it’s okay to be here because the more time you spend with him, the more you would like to stay a part of his life. “It’s just… I wasn’t really sure we could ever meet again. We didn’t keep contact after you left.”

With dropped shoulders, you try not to sound too downhearted because of what happened because you know all too well, it wasn’t his fault, it was a family decision and look at him, it did good for him! He seems happy, they live in a practically mansion but most importantly, he didn’t seem to change with the wealth. He might wear expensive clothes but under it all he’s still the boy with the most loveable smile.

“I… I was thinking about you a lot, I just thought you forgot about me,” Mark admits with a sheepish smile, tucking his hair behind his ear shyly. He really still is the same and it’s playing silly little games with your heart. If this was a cheesy Disney movie, a slow bgm would start to play as you look into each other but your moment is broken when Taeyong accidentally kicks into his chair as he stands up. At first he looks alarmed but then giggles.

“I will just… go. Don’t mind me,” he disappears like smoke with a wink, leaving you two alone at which Mark lets out a woah. You chuckle at his cute reaction, heart doing somersaults in your chest.

You thought it would be awkward, just the two of you alone after long years but Mark has this thing that he makes people feel comfortable around him, so it’s actually quite nice. You catch up on everything and anything that comes to your mind: old neighbours, studies, friends, what are you doing now and what would you like to do, too.

After finishing the delicious dinner, Mark offers a home tour which you would never refuse and you jaw drops at the huge crystal chandelier in their living room as well as their swimming pool but your favourite place in the whole mansion is Mark’s room because it’s just so him. You can’t describe it well but the moment you step inside, it feels like home. It’s cozy to the point it makes you want to cuddle a pillow. It has colours of pastels, a synthesizer here, a guitar there, posters of singers framed on his wall and vinyl records hanging down. His window has a view of sunset and Namsan above their green garden and although you haven’t been in Seoul before, you’re pretty sure it’s your favourite place in the whole damn city, too.

“Wait, there’s someone I would like you to meet,” Mark suddenly exclaims while you’re looking through his pictures and he pulls you out of his room, out of the house, into the garden: You giggle all the way as he’s being so secretive about it but then your steps halt unexpectedly and the hand you have in Mark’s yanks him back.

“Mark… why is there a tiger in your garden in the middle of Seoul?” you ask as quietly and as immobile as you can. You don’t want to attract the sleeping animal’s attention to yourself. But to your biggest surprise, the boy just laughs, his thumb caressing your skin soothingly.

“She’s Jasmine and she won’t hurt you,” he reassures you but needless to say, you’re not too calm and you’re pulled close to the wild animal that lifts its huge head towards you lazily. “She was abandoned by her mother as a cub and she was outcast in the zoo because she’s a bit sick, so she has always been weaker than her siblings. Dad made a donation and we have raised her since she was young.”

You hiss when Mark reaches out without fear but the tiger basically purrs as he strokes down his fur at the neck. You watch in awe as this big wild animal becomes a soft cat under the hands of Mark Lee. When the boy encourages you to pat her too, you hesitate but he promises you that it’s gonna be alright and you take a leap of faith. 

“What’s her sickness?” you wonder aloud as your fingers get lost in the soft fur of the tiger. You hope she’s not in a lot of pain.

“It’s an immune system thing, not sure what exactly but she wouldn’t have survived this long in the wild,” the boy tells you and his mouth curls up in a smile when Jasmine licks your hand. It seems like you’re tiger-approved. You look into its warm brown eyes and your heart churns at the thought of her condition.

Mark tells you stories of Jasmine, about that one time she crashed his birthday cake or how much she likes to swim with him in their pool during summer and gosh, you could listen to him go on and on forever. You’re only reminded of the reality, that all this is just a possible one-time thing, a weekend getaway with magic when Taeyong shows up in swimwear, ready to crash in said pool.

“I guess he might have been bored in that teapot,” Mark laughs, not minding at all. He even offers you to join but you have a better idea.

“Taeyong, I have my second wish!” you call out for the wish dragon who’s suddenly much more excited about that than the water. He’s beside you in a moment, beaming and curious. You glance at Mark with a soft smile before looking at your personal genie confidently.

“I wish Jasmine would be healthy,” you whisper, playing with the tiger’s furry ears which she seems to enjoy. You were a little bit afraid the dragon would say it’s not possible, that he can’t cure sickness but to your relief, he just grins.

“Your wish, my command,” he nods and puts a hand over the animal. Nothing but a smoke of purple signals the magic being done but you believe in it and so does Mark by the looks of it. He reaches out for your hand and squeezes it gently. 

“Thank you,” he smiles and you smile back. He used to be your best friend after all, it’s the least you can do for him.

Mark convinces you to stay the weekend and there’s no way you could tell no to him, not when he clears his schedule just for you. He never complains about how busy he must be working for his father’s business while being a music major at a local university. All he ever talks about is the places he wishes to show you and he takes you around Seoul as if he was your certificated tour guide. It’s lovely how enthusiastic he is about it while what really matters to you is the time you spend together. He makes sure you two take a million photos to remember by, Taeyong posing on half of them since he joins you on your little trips and sometimes it’s just the two of you watching the wish dragon being genuinely in awe by modern technology, 10 years is a long time after all.

On the last day before you have to go back to Vancouver (thanks to Taeyong’s kind offer to take you the same way you came back since he misunderstood you, you don’t have to sit through a 10+ hours flight and you have more time), Mark not only tries to make you breakfast despite having an in-house chef (his eggs are ugly as heck but you appreciate his efforts and can’t help but coo at his dreamy smile under that grey hoodie when you tell him it tastes yummy) but he also introduces you to his friends in Korea. Of course, they tease you (mostly Mark) about where he has been hiding you but it’s all chill and fun you’re not quite ready to say goodbye. But you should go because the more you stay, the more you don’t want to leave. You’re lucky enough for this chance to reunite with Mark but all good things end eventually.

“Let’s not disappear from each other’s life again, okay?” the boy grins at you as you’re ready to go, Taeyong already working on his magic.

“Yeah, let’s not,” you agree easily, looking forward to your video chatting and constant texting even if it’s from the two opposite ends of the Earth with a terrible time zone difference.

You glance at the wish dragon who’s drumming with his fingers while pursing his lips as if he was waiting for something and you let out a huff before working up the courage to actually do something about these feelings inside of you. You might have regretted not confessing in middle school, you have spent years wondering about the what ifs, so you don’t want to make the same mistake twice but still, you want to give Mark a chance to ignore it all if he wants to. So you step forward and wrap your hands around him as you hug him close. It’s obvious that your action takes him aback, he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands and his body tenses under you but it all melts as you say those words that have been threatening to fall from your lips all this time:

“I have missed you.” you confess, honest and based on the hitch in his breathing, Mark must be surprised. You can’t blame him though, you just wanted him to know. You step back with a weary smile, his big Bambi eyes on you but before he could say anything you nod at Taeyong and you feel yourself falling, purple fog pulling you in. A few moments later you’re back in Vancouver, in your apartment, without him.

The first few days pass in a blurr, you can still barely believe what just happened. Your weekend with Mark feels like a too good dream but Mark kept his side of promise and texted you almost immediately as you left. He sends you selfies, songs that remind him of you and you talk about your days like you never did before. Still, it feels like you’re dancing around certain topics which are basically the elephant in the room and maybe that’s why Taeyong tries to cheer you up in his own way. Though, he soon realizes that you not being happy isn’t the problem, you are happy, you just… miss Mark more than you ever did.

“Enough of moping, you still have a wish left!” Taeyong exclaims, throwing himself onto your bed. “Come on, close your eyes, imagine what you want the most in the world and make a wish!" he singsongs. However, before you could even just indulge him, your phone pings with a new notification.

fullsun00 tagged you in their post!

You click on it right away, wondering what Mark’s friend Donghyuck is doing online at 1AM. The uploaded post turns out to be a photo of you and Mark when you all hang out near Han river. You were too busy at the time laughing at how the boy almost lost his whole scoop of ice cream before he could have had a single bite to notice his smile while looking at you. Based on his caption Donghyuck apparently wasn’t.

fullsun00: just old friends, they say. friends my ass @buttercupyn @onyourm__ark

You click your tongue wondering what Mark thinks of the callout but you press like on the post anyways. You put your phone aside before you could see how his other friends join the teasing in the comment section.

“Actually, I do have my third wish,” you speak up as you turn to Taeyong before he could make a remark on your tinted cheeks.

You’ve been thinking a lot about it during the past days. You could wish for anything but you’re at a point of your life where no riches or fame would make you happier because you’re happy enough just the way it is. It might not be perfect but you don’t want to be selfish and you want to make decisions you won’t regret: like catching up with Mark, curing his tiger and bringing happiness into the life of somebody who only ever served other people in his life.

“Ooh, what is it?” Taeyong claps, giddy as if he was waiting for this to happen. He probably did.

“I wish you would go on a vacation and enjoy life,” you tell him but unlike his usual reaction, this time the dragon’s smile fades and he blinks at you, confused.

“You could ask for anything in the world and that’s what you want? Are you sure?” he furrows his brows, not quite believing your words but you just smile, knowingly.

“Yes, Taeyong, I’m sure.”

“Your wish, my command,” he bows with his hands put together and with a twirl suddenly he’s in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses, looking as ready for a holiday as one can be. You chuckle and tell him to just go, you’ll be fine.

You’re fine, you really are. Life goes on, you study and work, you laugh with your friends, you video call with Mark regularly and his friends are regulars on your social media, too. It’s just sometimes the feeling of missing something hits you harder than other days. Especially when you’re looking through the pictures you have from your Seoul weekend.

“I wish you were here,” you whisper ahead of you at one particularly good photo of Mark and the sunset, smiling at you behind the camera. You miss his smile, the cute wrinkles around his eyes when he crunches his nose, the sound of his laughter, his hand on your wrist… you miss him.

Ding-dong.

You stand up startled at the sound of your flat’s bell, running to the door to open it even though you have no idea who it could be so early on a Saturday morning. Not having a better idea, you expect it to be either a neighbour of your landlord but on the other side of your doorstep stands a boy who you thought was a continent away. He’s dressed semi-casually this time, his shirt tucked in his jeans, hair lightly falling onto his forehead and a nervous smile on his thin lips.

“Mark! But I⎼ I don’t even have more wishes,” you blink, taken aback, looking around to look for Taeyong in case he came back. But your behaviour just manages to confuse Mark instead.

“What?”

“I just wished you were here,” you blurt out without thinking, your words only processing later in your brain and it’s then when heat creeps onto your cheeks. Mark tries to but can’t really hide his growing smile at that.

“Really? I’m glad then. I just took my new private plane on a test drive,” he says bashfully, a silly excuse for real.

“All the way to Vancouver?” you tease, watching Mark fumble with the hem of his shirt. Your heart beats overtime just because of the fact that he’s there. 

“Well, what can I say? I did miss the weather here,” he plays along with a shrug but he’s more serious when he looks deep into your eye and adds: “And you left without letting me answer.”

Oh yes, you did. You were kind of afraid of his reaction but seeing how he was ready to travel across the world just to see you, maybe there’s no reason for you to be so afraid. It feels like deja vu but a reversed one in a way as Mark gently pulls you into a hug, his lips grazing your hair with a whisper that makes your heart skip a beat: “I have missed you too.”

You really wouldn’t wish for anything more.

[xlehukax]

Thank You For The Music

Foreword: This is for the Sanders Sides Gift Exchange! Analogical Soulmate Au, as requested by @romantichopelessly! Happy holidays. And there’s also a playlist!  @sanderssidesgiftxchange! 

Ships: Logan x Virgil, (Background) Patton x Janus 

Word Count: 8374 

Warnings: SelectiveMute!Virgil, like one fight scene, Cursing, Logan’s ignoring feelings, it’s mainly the Logan and Virgil show... I don’t think there’s really anything! 

Summary: Logan’s been asked to assist a local student on campus. Having nothing else to do, he agrees: and so starts a connection that he would’ve never expected, and one that flowers more beautifully than he could ever imagine. (Soulmates can hear each other sing in their heads: Italics are either singing or sign language) 

~~~~~

Somehow, Logan thought his fourth year in College would feel different. Like he’s gone on some sort of journey: like he’s learned in the education manner but also in the lifestyle sort of way. 

It doesn’t appear that way. It seems like Logan’s the same. 

No friends. 

No challenges. 

Nothing to be excited about whatsoever. He’s going to college for the degree at this point, and the title alone. It’s why when the professor for his Microbiology class asks him to stay after, it shocks him. Especially so close to the end of the semester. 

Is he not doing enough? A quick inventory of his mind ensures that he hasn’t forgotten anything. The professor must need something: she’s taken a shine to him anyway, it probably isn’t bad. Logan gathers his things and then places them carefully in their individual places in his bag: once everything is where it belongs, in pockets and folders and sections, Logan presents himself to the professor. She smiles at him over the top of her laptop, eyes sparkling with mirth before shutting the lid of the machine. 

“Thank you for seeing me, Logan,” she grins. 

“I’m going to be blunt here: why have you asked me to stay? I assume that there is nothing out of order.” 

“No, no… your grades are impeccable, participation is great, and you’ve been fantastic. It’s simply that you’re so outstanding that I want to ask a favor,” his professor asks shrewdly. Logan hums for a moment, debating, before wincing in pain and clutching his temple. 

“Logan! Are you alright, dear?” 

“Ah, yes. It’s merely my soulmate,” he says by way of explanation. The professor smiles broadly. 

“How fantastic! Anything good?”

Logan quickly takes stock of the song: his mystery mate sang Overkill yesterday during Office Hours, and Sally’s Song the day before that while he was at his college apartment. He only knew because a) these were repeating songs, and b) he’d looked them up right away. Listened to them after the music fades to hold them close. 

It’s funny that he never once thinks that the original is better in any sense than the sweet song of his soulmate. His (Logan’s assumed it’s a he, based on his own sexuality and interests) music is so sweet: his voice is lilting and beautiful and it makes Logan feel so guilty. So guilty, because he must be the most beautiful man in the world and Logan hasn’t given him anything. Logan does not… sing. 

And in a world where you hear your soulmate’s singing in your own head, it’s a betrayal. 

“So? What is it?” the professor’s voice snaps him back to reality. 

“Oh, I’m not sure. It seems to go… oh, oh, oh, I got a love that keeps me waiting. Oh, oh, oh, I got a love that keeps me waiting. I’m a lonely boy, I’m a lonely boy,” he repeats the song in a monotone. The professor snaps her fingers. 

“Ah, The Black Keys. Lonely Boy, a classic!! It’s a good song, your soulmate has some bloody good taste. And, what are you doing, letting them be lonely like that?” she winks at him, “It’s quite the song.” 

“I do not see how this is relative to our conversation,” Logan deadpans, tired of this discourse already. If it has nothing to do with academics, he doesn’t want to hear it. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I got off-topic. Anyway, you know ASL right?” 

“Indeed.” 

“Perfect,” she smiles gently, getting up from the desk and dusting herself off, “There’s a student at the school, it’s his second year: he’s mute and uses primarily ASL to communicate. So far, he’s been surviving by being with his brother. But the brother is changing schools after this semester to go to a better nursing school and… well, we need someone to look after Virgil. Virgil Williams is the name of the student and Patton Williams’s the brother. There’s not a lot of students who know ASL here, and from what I’ve heard you don’t really participate in extracurricular activities. This would be not only a great way to flesh out your resumé but also simply a great thing to do, you know, humanitarian wise. Would you be up for it?” 

Logan considers for a moment. It’s true, he doesn’t do a whole lot outside of schoolwork: he does tend to have too much free time spent re-reading books. It doesn’t have to be anything special: it’s only helping this kid when he needs it. No problem whatsoever: he’s tutored people before, it’ll be similar. 

“I don’t see why not. Do I have an opportunity to meet with them before I agree completely?” 

“Oh, of course! They should be at their dorm now… here’s the dorm number,” she passes him a slip of paper and what this job will entail and waves him off. The dorm’s only a short walk away: it’ll be less than a ten-minute walk from the lecture hall if he crosses the Courtyard. 

Logan walks briskly: he doesn’t require the extra exercise due to his rigorous workout schedule but it’s always nice to stretch his limbs. He breaks into a light jog, his bag bouncing slightly on his back as he moves, and makes it there in exactly 8.7 minutes instead of 10. Logan wipes the sweat from his brow with a cloth before entering the dormitories and heading to the shared Williams dorm. It’s on the third floor, right outside the elevators. 

Logan takes the stairs. 

He combats a sudden influx of nerves at the door: swallows it deep and regulates his features. Professional, he thinks to himself. Be professional. 

His knock is answered immediately as if they were standing at the door. Logan’s presented with a man who breaks out into a broad smile immediately: his hair is pulled up into a small bundle at the top of his head, sparse brown curls sticking out haphazardly. He’s quite large and strong-looking: he’d be intimidating if his eyes didn’t have that same sort of sparkle that the professor did, his large circle-rimmed glasses hiding absolutely nothing. 

“Oh!! You must be the guy the Prof knew!! Hello! I’m Patton!! It’s so great to meet you!! Agh, I’m so excited! Well, Virgil too,” he grins. Logan blinks. He is… a lot. 

“Greetings. I am Logan,” Logan signs the words alongside the verbal words to demonstrate his fluency. Patton squeals and Logan winces. 

“Haha, sorry about that. Again, eee! So excited! I’ll introduce you to Virgil,” Patton holds the door ajar for Logan to enter, gesturing to the small pile of shoes to remove his. Logan gently unties his trainers and places them beside a pair of Doc Martens and Toms. They’re about as different as they could be: one is black and bulky with thick purple laces, the others a sky blue with little paw prints. Polar opposites. Logan diverts his attention to Patton, who’s been jabbering on about something or other. 

“-and there he is! Virgil, come on out kiddo- meet Logan!” Patton coos at what at first glance seems to be a shadow but in reality is a man who practically hides by the door of the conjoined bedroom. He’s encompassed by an oversized hoodie. 

“Hello, it is nice to meet you, Virgil,”  he signs out silently. Patton bites his lip to stop himself from speaking, but his noises of excitement escape anyway. Virgil signs back a meek hello: his hood falls off in the process, and Logan scrutinizes the face that he’s apparently going to be assisting for a while. 

Virgil has long dark hair: unkempt and uncut, old dye lingering stubbornly on the tips of it. His eyelashes are long, drooping over his cheeks, as he avoids Logan’s gaze. He possesses dark circles under each eye- so dark it seems intentional. Virgil tugs his hood over his head the moment the silence stretches a bit too long, and he’s gone: a rabbit ducking into a hole. Logan wishes he’d put the hood back down. 

In all regards, Logan means to say that Virgil holds palpable beauty. 

The idea within itself isn’t strange: Logan understands the various societal norms and standards that society adheres to beauty and usually makes deductions off of that, but there is… something about Virgil. Virgil’s not muscular looking, or overly lean, or anything of the sort. He’s simply…  enchanting. 

“Well, say something!” Patton shouts, breaking the silence. “Or, I mean, sign something, Virge. It’s too stifled in here: do either of you want something to drink?” 

“Water?” Virgil signs. His hands are shaking.

“I’ll have one of those too,” Logan adds on. Patton smiles at the two of them and finger guns. “You can hear, correct?” Logan asks, keeping his tone easy. He makes sure to enunciate each of his words, just in case. Virgil blinks up at him moonishly. 

“Yes,” Virgil says, worrying at his lip. 

“You don’t need to be afraid. I’m only here to help you,” Logan attempts to smile at him comfortingly: judging by Virgil’s expression, it seems more like a grimace. “Let’s sit down and talk about this, alright?” Logan sighs. He pulls out a chair at their small table and lets Virgil sit in it, pushing him in. Immediately after, Virgil pulls his legs to his chest and wraps his arms around them. He’s vanished completely into his hoodie. 

Logan sits next to him, rather than across: he doesn’t want to make him feel like he’s being interrogated. 

“I’m sorry,” Virgil says. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for?” Logan replies, more of a question than an assurance. “My apologies Virgil, but you’re not trying to impress me. I am simply here to introduce myself so that I can begin to help you. I am here for you. You can take as long as you want.” 

Virgil peeks out from under the hoodie like a prairie dog emerges from a hole. Hair first, then curious eyes, then his hands. 

Logan smiles. 

“Now, let’s draw up a contract here, to outline what we’ll be doing this year. I do believe,” he retrieves the papers the professor had given him, “that you already have a solution for classes, so you will not require my assistance there. It’s more after school hours and personal activities, no?” 

Virgil nods meekly. 

So… Virgil just needs a… friend? A friend who knows ASL? Logan’s heart swells in his chest: Virgil just needs a friend. 

Logan doesn’t let his excitement show: because deep down, deep enough that he’ll never admit it fully- let alone say it aloud- he’d truly like a friend too. 

And as Virgil glances over the contract and bites his nails and spares him the smallest glance before Patton returns with two glasses of water and a plate of supermarket cookies… Logan can’t help but feel like this will become more. 

The contract is solidified: Logan will go to Virgil after his classes end, assist him with homework or anything else he needs at the time. Logan will be on speed dial for him if talking to people if needed. Logan will be paid a small sum per day, as well as the equating service hours. 

Patton can’t stop thanking him with tears in his eyes. Virgil doesn’t look at him once, spares him no glances. Rather, his eyes are downcast for the next hour that Logan’s there. He has a little fidgeting toy and presses it in his lap. Logan exchanges cordially with Patton, Patton cheers animatedly, and Virgil is silent. 

“If I may ask… why now? Is this not your second year of college? Why would you leave now?” Logan asks. Patton’s expression saddens. 

“Oh… well, I’m transferring to a better medical school after this semester and- I couldn’t leave Virgil here without any help- he waited for me so we could go here together and… I can’t leave with no safety net for him,” Patton says tearily. He wipes at his eyes and goes to squeeze Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil sinks deeper into his hoodie. Logan feels deeply uncomfortable. 

“So thank you, Logan: you seem so nice, and so smart, I’m sure that I’ll be leaving him in capable hands,” Patton assures him, and then looks at the time mounted on the wall, “Oh! You must be going now, huh? I’ll walk you out,” 

“Goodbye, Virgil. I look forward to seeing you soon,” he says curtly, before letting Patton lead him back to the door. As he ties up his shoes, Logan opens his mouth hesitantly. 

“You are… you are a good brother, taking care of your younger sibling like that,” he does his best at comforting. Patton laughs at him. 

“No, no! Virgil’s my older brother by two years. Technically, he should be at your level: but he waited for me to go. We’re really close and we help each other out so… Goodness, that’s the reason why I’m doing all this, reaching out to the teachers and organizing things for him. I want to -no, I need to- help him out. Like he’s helped me,” Patton explains. Logan blinks. This means two things. 

Patton feels guilty. He feels oh so guilty, and Virgil probably feels betrayed. Betrayed and alone. 

Virgil and Logan are the same age. 

~~~~~~

The end of the first semester comes quickly. It was only a few weeks away, and Logan spends minimal time with Virgil: giving the brothers space to make amends before he comes between them. 

On the last day of the quarter, Logan makes his way to their dorm room. Music had been stuck in his head all day: his soulmate singing the same song over and over again. It’s beautiful, of course, but nagging as he tries to focus. Logan debated singing a little “shut up please” but even that little snippet of musicality makes him nervous. 

And what would his soulmate think? What would he think, after years of silence, that the first thing he gets in return is a demand for silence? Logan shivers at the thought of it. The song goes: Time is an illusion that helps things make sense, so we’re always living in the present tense- it seems unforgiving when a good thing ends, but you and I will always be back then. 

Logan likes the scientific simplicity of it, and finds himself humming along as he swiftly walks across the courtyard to the dorms. His soulmate’s voice rises with the music: piano, he thinks. His soulmate is playing the piano and singing over and over and over again. In his mind's eye, Logan wishes he could comfort him: do the soulmate things that soulmates do. Embrace him and calm him and quell his fears. The music fades in time for him to get to the dorms: Patton’s already outside, bags packed. 

Logan is giving, or rather attacked, with a hug from Patton. 

“You are leaving now, yes?” he says, trying to make it seem like he’s not worming out of the embrace despite his discomfort. Patton releases him after a moment, worrying at his lip. 

“Yeah! I’ll visit as often as I can, call me if ANYTHING happens, and-” 

“Patton,” Logan grips his shoulders, “I can handle this. Go on now,” Patton nods tearily. 

“You promise you’ll take good care of my brother? You have to- to pinky promise, because if anything happens to him it’s going to be my fault,” Patton wipes his eyes, and there’s that intimidating that he always knew Patton had the potential for: “You have to promise. I love Virgil more than anything or anyone in the world. He is the kindest, most thoughtful person. You may not see it right now, but he is. Virgil is the best person I know. You have to help him when he needs it, even if he doesn’t want it,” 

“I promise, I’ll perform to the very best of my ability Patton,” Logan says steely, “I promise. You go and pursue your dreams.” Logan and Patton both glance up to the window of the dorm that Virgil’s in: the curtains are closed, and Patton sighs. Gives Logan a meaningful look. 

Patton juts his pinky in his face, and Logan exasperatedly links his. Patton’s face brightens, and leaves to the nearby road where a taxi awaits. In Logan’s head, a new song begins. It starts with a guitar and then continues with his soulmate’s angelic voice: “Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup, they slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe-” 

Logan watches him go for a moment: and then he starts walking into the dorms to check in on Virgil. Logically, he’s probably feeling due amounts of stress and uncertainty in the new situation. 

“Nothings gonna change my world, nothings gonna change my world…. images of broken light, which dance before me like a million eyes, they call me on and on across the universe,” 

Logan’s heart feels full, an odd feeling: there’s something about the music and the situation that blends and rushes into his chest so wonderfully. Perhaps this is what it’s like to be with your soulmate: life and soul singing together in perfect harmony. 

“Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box, they tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe,” 

Logan takes the stairs step by step, enjoying the music as long as he can. 

“Nothings gonna change my world, nothings gonna change my world, nothings gonna change my world, nothings gonna change my world…” the music stops all at once, guitar too: Logan misses it for only a moment, before he remembers that it’s no passing street musician but rather his soulmate. His soulmate who sings so perfectly. The soulmate he’ll never meet. 

He arrives at the Williams’ dorm- err, now just Virgil’s, and raps on the door. He waits for a “coming!” but then realizes his mistake. He waits patiently for Virgil to open it: and when he does, it’s only a crack. Logan stares back at the scrap of Virgil’s face he can see. 

His lips purse. 

“Would you like to let me in?” Logan asks gently. Virgil’s face tightens nervously, and he signs something quickly. 

“I’m not okay right now,” he says. Logan swallows. 

“Can I help with anything? Or should I leave?” he keeps his voice as soft as he can. Virgil’s head shakes a vehement ‘no’. 

“Virgil… I-” he tries to come up with a reason, a real reason for him to stay. There is none. If Virgil says he doesn’t need any help then there’s no reason to stay. Logan swallows. “If you have no need for me… then I… I should leave,” he sighs. The door closes shut behind him with a click. 

Logan’s moving to leave when he has a new idea. He raps on the door once more. Virgil’s face peers through the crack in the door again. He rolls his eyes at Logan. 

“What is it?” he signs. 

“Fancy a game of chess?” 

~~~~~

Unsurprisingly, Virgil is a silent but deadly good chess player. He’s forward thinking and takes no risks that he can’t counter the backlash of. Logan is thrilled to play with someone so astute. 

“Checkmate,” Logan announces, after a long and difficult game. Virgil huffs in mock indignation, and knocks down his own king. “You’re quite proficient at this, Virgil. We should play more often.” 

Virgil blushes, signing a quick “Thank you” and then zipping his hoodie up further. Logan finds himself smiling at him. 

“Would you like to go again? Or do you have work to do that I can help you with?” 

“Again,” Virgil signs, hands quivering slightly. Logan chuckles and resets the board for another go. Virgil bites at his nails and waits. It’s too quiet without Patton’s incessant yammering. Logan decides to ask the first question that comes to mind. 

“Do you have a soulmate?” 

Virgil makes sweater paws and ducks into his hoodie more. 

“Oh- I’m sorry, is that a bad topic-” 

“No. I do not have one.” 

There’s been cases of people ‘missing’ soulmates: only to find that they were dead, or that they didn’t want a soulmate and merely ignored them. Or like Logan, who don’t sing whatsoever. 

“Ah… well, that’s a shame, Virgil. You’d be amazing to have as a soulmate, I’m sure,” 

Virgil flushes deeper, if it’s possible, and hugs himself. Logan finds himself smiling again: Virgil’s cute. 

Perhaps he said it out loud, because then Virgil’s growling at him and signing a “Fuck you, I am not!” 

“Maybe just a little bit?” Logan teases, he teases, such an odd and different thing for him to do. But teasing Virgil is different. It’s like another game and Logan doesn’t feel out of place or silly: it’s still serious.

“No! No!” 

“I think you are,” 

“No! What? No!” 

“Hmm,” Logan merely says, finishing the chess board. 

~~~~~

His soulmate has a crush. A sort of crush that’s teetering constantly between deep pining and attempting to squash it. 

It’s apparent, between the lines of “Fly Me To The Moon” and “despair”. In other words, I love you. Cause it’s not romantic, I swear. Fill my heart with song and let me sing forevermore. I want you to be here, but please don’t come near. You are all I long for, all I worship and adore. It’s not love, I swear. 

Today’s song is “Raincoat” (according to the internet) and if that’s not appropriate, Logan doesn’t know what is. Once more, Logan wishes he has the confidence to thank him for the soundtrack that’s been accompanying his life as it rises in joy each day. 

These songs… they’re a quick change from the dreary songs that had been going on a few weeks ago. Logan, ironically, doesn’t mind the sappiness, actually. Usually he would, but it fits his recent joy. 

Virgil’s exactly what he wanted, what he could’ve never hoped for. He’s smart, he’s clever, he’s shrewd, he’s not touchy, he respects boundaries… 

It’s perfect. Logan goes and sticks with him each and every weekday after classes end. They work together, they read together, they watch True Crime shows, they eat dinner together, they play chess and cards and backgammon and Clue and everything possible. They talk: and miracles upon miracles, Virgil seems to like him. 

Today is different. Today is a weekend: there’s no real reason that Virgil should need him, he’s never before, but he was invited to have lunch with him anyway. Even though it’s going to be snowing! Even though it’s freezing! Even though in any other instance Logan would be curled up at home with a good book and Star Trek. And rather… rather they’re going to get Hot Pot at the small university town in Logan’s ramshackle car. It gives Logan the strange feeling of hope rising in his chest that Virgil wants him around as much as he does. That Virgil enjoys it as much as he does. 

Enjoys the company, the quiet, the whole thing. 

He doesn’t even have to go up to the dorm: Virgil’s waiting for him outside the building. Logan waves after he gets out of his secondhand car: Virgil offers a small one in return and walks up to him. He’s all bundled up in several mismatched layers: though he still wears aggressively ripped jeans with skinny knees peeking through, he’s wrapped in several warm coats. 

Logan gets a sudden urge to press a kiss to his shaggy hair and hug him tightly, the slouching man at the ideal height. He squashes it quickly, blushing anyway at the mere thought of such romances, and lets Virgil into the passenger seat without looking at him. Virgil taps his hands on the front of the car, a rare grin donning his features. Logan swallows. 

Virgil has never looked more beautiful than he does right now. With a smile and all of those layers and his hood just barely adorning his head. Logan notices now that his makeup is different today: a sparkling purple rather than the usual dark tones. 

“Where to, Virgil?” 

“I do not care!” he signs excitedly. Logan chuckles. 

“How about sushi, then?” 

Virgil smiles and nods. Logan sets the car into reverse, and then drives out of the parking lot. Virgil fiddles with his fingers. I should say something…

“Would… would you like to listen to any music, Virgil?” Virgil’s head bobs an exuberant yes, and Logan gestures to the old car radio: Virgil fiddles with it, and finally ends up with a channel that’s not staticy. 

‘You’d be like heaven to touch… I want to hold you so much,’ At the beginning of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ Virgil sinks into his hoodie: Logan casts his eyes off the road for a second, glancing at Virgil- the scrap of his face that he can see is ruby red. At least the car isn’t silent anymore, he thinks to himself. Virgil’s quiet (well, not signing), and the song plays to completion and fades into “This Guy’s In Love With You”. Virgil, if it’s possible, seems to hide even more. 

“We’re almost there, do you want me to turn it off, Virgil?” Logan suggests. 

“It’s fine.” 

“If you say so… seems like you’re hiding but…” 

“Fuck you.” 

‘Say you’re in love, in love with this guy… if not, I will just die’ 

Logan turns off the radio as they turn into the parking lot of the local sushi joint. He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to Virgil. 

“Eat in or take out?” 

“To go,” he signs. Logan hums: maybe one day, they’ll be able to go out together for a meal. Virgil doesn’t like public places due to his anxiety, and Logan doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable and he’d never push him but… it is a classic ‘friend’ activity to go out for dinner together. It would be nice, but having a friend generally is nice and he’s not about to lose him over some stereotype. 

Virgil’s not ordinary, so why would their friendship be? 

“Come now, Virgil, let’s order,” Logan gets out of the car, helps Virgil out, locks the car. It all feels very normal, very quaint. He has to admit that he enjoys it, despite what one would think if they met him. 

Walking into the restaurant is normal. Ordering food (ordering for both of them)? Also normal. They wait for their sushi in the front, Virgil warming his hands by blowing on them. 

“Do you enjoy spending time with me?” 

The question bursts out of Logan with little warning: he doesn’t even register that he said it until after it’s out of his mouth. He’s about to rescind the words when Virgil responds. 

“Yes. Yes. I love spending time with you,” He blushes slightly, looking away, “And you make me feel safe.” 

Logan blushes: he grabs the newly presented food and goes back to the car- but Virgil grabs his sleeve. 

“Do you want to sit in the park?” Virgil asks, nervous after the flurry of hands.

“It’s freezing outside,” 

“I know,” he signs, his expression saddening slightly.

“There’s no one out here.” 

“I know, I can see. I’m mute not blind,” Virgil rolls his eyes, heading for the car already. Logan chuckles and clasps his shoulder: Virgil stiffens under his touch.

“I don’t think I said I didn’t want to,” he teases. Virgil’s eyes widen, and then a smile creeps up his lips. 

“Okay!” Logan and Virgil walk right next to each other into the park: Virgil signs quite fast that he rather likes the cold, and that the skeletal trees remind him of his favourite movie, and does Logan like Nightmare Before Christmas, and what about stop animation? And halloween movies? 

Logan chuckles and answers all of his questions, slowly fielding them back to him. Virgil never talks this much when they’re in public. It’s nice to see him opening up, Logan thinks to himself pridefully, Is this my doing? 

He doesn’t mean to preen, but it happens anyway. 

“Why are you doing that with your chest?” 

“Oh, apologies, Virgil. It was accidental.” Logan reels himself back in: it’s so strange to have to do that. He’s never done anything like that, something that breaks his front stage appearance. It’s odd: like there’s another, smaller, smiling, animated Logan inside of him. A little Logan that’s been ignored and malnourished for a while now. Virgil giggles though, and Logan stops amidst his musings to stare at him. 

That was… cute. Why was that cute? Genuinely cute, not teasingly. 

Virgil catches him staring and glares at him, though his cheeks flush. 

“What are you looking at, nerd?” 

“Ah- it’s nothing. Would you like to sit down here and eat?” Logan points to a random bench: Virgil shrugs and sits, holding his arms open for his food. Giving him his food and sitting down next to him is a battle of wills: if it was another other person, in any other situation, he’d excuse himself and leave. But it’s Virgil, and the man looks so thrilled to just sit with him: it’s his friend. He’s not abandoning him. Even if his emotions are crawling up his throat. 

The silence is amicable as they eat. The first flakes of snow start to fall, and Virgil’s attention is drawn to them immediately. He watches the snowflakes float down slowly, enraptured. 

“You’d think you’ve never seen snow before,” Logan chuckles. 

“Fuck off,” Virgil signs fluidly. He doesn’t even look at Logan, simply eats his sushi and quickly stands to spin in the snow. “It’s beautiful.” 

“Yes,” Logan agrees, as he watches Virgil laugh quietly and kick the powder around, as Virgil’s eyelashes are decorated with snowflakes, as he holds his tongue out like a child, as Virgil looks so free and unafraid in his lonesome company… “It’s quite beautiful indeed.” 

~~~~

Patton’s coming back in two weeks. The second semester is almost over, spring finally showing her colours after a frigid winter, and Logan’s almost nervous. The music in his head doesn’t help whatsoever to calm him. What if something changes? It’s not like Patton’s staying, he’s allegedly very happy at his new school, but… Logan can’t help but worry at the idea that something in their dynamic will change irreparably if Patton reenters. 

There’s nothing you can do about it, he assures himself once again, Just keep doing your job. Logan’s class lets out early, and he takes a brisk jog to meet Virgil outside his class. By now, Logan knows his schedule by heart and knows where to meet him. 

He waits outside the lecture hall, student after student exiting… he waits until it’s fifteen minutes after his class has ended. Frowning, Logan peeks inside: it’s devoid of people, even the professor. 

“Virgil?” he calls out into the empty room fruitlessly. Panic starts to rise inside of his chest as he calls for the anxious man. “Virgil? Virgil, where are you?” 

He searches each aisle of the lecture hall, calling Virgil’s cell phone. Virgil hates it when he calls him, but if he’d just pick up, it means he’s okay. Logan feels incredibly antsy as he runs out of the room, sprinting at full force (he’s a strong man) around campus calling for Virgil. He wipes at his face: he can’t have the budding tears block his vision. He needs to find Virgil. 

“Virgil, where are you? Virgil, I need to find you. Virgil, please please be okay,” he dashes around a corner and drives his heels in to stop. 

Virgil. 

His beloved hoodie in a secluded alleyway. 

Logan reaches down and grasps it: he’d never leave it alone, let alone in a public place. Logan shakily picks it up into his hands, feeling the fabric: it’s dirtied. He gently folds it and puts it under his arm.

He’s starting to walk away when he hears the muffled shout and the sound of a punch’s impact. 

“Oh, so you want to talk now, huh?” Another punch. “Fucker.” 

Logan walks purposefully in the direction of the noise: two large women and one large man are whaling on Virgil, kicks and punches and spit, who’s curled up on the paved ground in the fetal position. Logan takes out the first buff woman with a strong punch to the side of her face, the second with a well placed kick and shove. The man runs away, pulling his fellows along with him. 

“Virgil, they’re gone now. Are you alright?” 

Virgil makes a broken sob, holding his midsection with his eyes downcast, and spits out some blood. Logan sighs and bends down to Virgil’s level, and wipes his mouth with a handkerchief from his book bag. He gives Virgil his hoodie (which he takes to immediately) and rubs his back. 

I should’ve gone after them, made them pay- 

“OH MY STARS, are the two of you alright?” a fanciful voice calls out from the entrance of the alley way. 

“We just saw a trio of assholes running away with some wicked bruises-” 

“Remus, that’s not the point!” The two boys walk into the alley, one worrying with a red letterman’s jacket and coiffed hair, the other (Remus) morbidly interested with a large denim jacket and wild hair sticking up every which way. They have the same face, unnervingly, though the wilder one sports a partially-grown mustache and the other has a scar though his eyebrow. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll bite. Are you okay?” Remus asks, extending a hand to Virgil. Virgil looks away and tucks into Logan more. Remus retracts his hand with a shrug. Logan gives the both of them steely looks. 

“If you’re here to promote any more harm or mockery, I advise you to leave concurrently.” 

“Ooh, put those big words away, Daddy,” Remus mocks. His brother elbows him roughly. 

“Remus, be nice. They’ve clearly been through quite the ordeal! Greetings, I’m Roman, this is Remus. We’re in Virgil’s class, and we saw him being… escorted, one could call it-” 

“Forcibly swept away!” 

“-Thank you Remus, out of class so we followed along after reporting it to the professor. He seems to be in quite a state: is there anything we can do?” Roman finishes, rolling his eyes at his twin. Logan sighs and adjusts his glasses. He doesn’t want to accept their help. He can take care of Virgil by himself. But…

He takes a closer look at the poor beaten man, at his bloodied mouth and shirt and his bruises and scrapes and thinks beyond him. 

“I thank you for reporting it to the teacher. This is a heinous act, and I loathe to think of what would’ve happened if I arrived later or not at all,” he attempts to look thankful, but judging by their expressions, it doesn’t work. Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Could you alert the on campus clinic that we’ll be coming? One of you? The other can make sure they don’t come back as I take Virgil there,” with that, Logan takes a deep breath and gets to his feet, holding Virgil tightly in his embrace. Virgil turns into him, making a pained sound. 

It breaks Logan’s poor heart. My friend, my friend, my friend- he’s hurt. 

“It’s alright, Virgil. I’ve got you, you’re safe now,” he whispers to him. 

“Cute!” “Ick.” 

“Oh come on now, Remus, they’re precious!”

“I came over here for the bloody beat down! Not touchy feely lovey-dovey!” 

“I will never understand you. You’re absolutely vile,” 

“Ah, look in the mirror lately?” 

“Excuse me,” Logan growls, diverting their attention from their bickering, “Are you going to help or not?” 

“Ugh,” Remus rolls his eyes, “I guess I’ll go to the clinic.” 

“Goodbye, Remus- you see, he’s a bit of a pain, always been that way,” Roman sticks his tongue out childishly at Remus, who returns the gesture in a more lewd fashion. “Alright, let’s help the emo up,” Roman extends his hands to help: Logan turns away, holding Virgil alone. 

“He is not emo. Virgil is a selective mute,” Logan frowns at Roman. 

“Aha, it’s just a mere quip!” 

“Oh,” Logan swallows. They walk in near silence to the infirmary: How weird it is that the silence with Virgil seems familial and warm but with this Roman it feels charged and uncomfortable. 

“You aren’t a very funny guy, are you?” 

“Excuse me?” Logan glares at him through his glasses, holding Virgil tighter. 

“Take no offense, but I mean… you’re very uptight! Serious. Grumpy. Straight to the point. I’ll stop prattling on synonyms, but I think you get the point now,” Roman explains. 

“I- I’ve never thought about it that way. I presume you’re right,” he frowns. Logan’s never felt like any of those: he just likes working. And now he feels foolish: perhaps that’s the reason that he’s never gotten anywhere socially. Is it his inability to “quip”? 

Would Virgil be happier with him if he could? 

As if he heard his thoughts, Virgil winces in pain in his arms. 

“Oh! Virgil. Should I hold you differently? Are you uncomfortable?” Virgil looks up at Logan blearily: his eyes open in recognition and a full-face blush breaks out all over his face. Virgil takes a bruised hand to hide his face. 

“Awe look at ‘im! Debbie Downer is shy!” Logan whirls over to glare at Roman’s almond eyes angrily. Virgil turns away. 

“Don’t talk to him that way,” he growls. Roman flushes and stammers. 

“It was only teasing!” 

“It was hurtful, and the last thing he needs right now is that. So do me a favor and leave those quips to yourself,” he reprimands. 

“Yes, sir,” Roman salutes. Logan looks away from him and back to Virgil. 

“Hey. Why did those thugs hurt you anyway?” he questions. Virgil frowns. “You don’t have to tell me-” 

“No- I will. I was- I was singing in the bathroom,” he signs shyly. 

“Wait- how could you-” 

“Sometimes I talk when I’m alone. Or sing. I’m nervous around people, when I’m by myself it’s okay,” 

“Oh,” Logan shouldn’t feel so betrayed, he knows he shouldn’t: this is the way Virgil is, after all. He’s a selective mute. He can speak when he wants. And if he doesn’t want to speak around Logan well- it’s fine. It’s his choice. 

It shouldn’t bother Logan. 

“So those jerks beat you up purely for the angelic music of your soul? Their cruelty knows no bounds, if they were to hurt you for communicating with your soulmate! How dare they, those vile, disgusting, cotton headed ninny muggin ruffians!” Roman supplies, filling Logan’s silence with declarations of war. Virgil laughs slightly at Roman, rolling his eyes. Logan swallows his questions, his pleas for “what about me?”. 

Virgil can like whoever he wants. It doesn’t have to be just Logan. 

~~~~

Virgil had asked Logan to drive him to the airport to pick up Patton. Logan wanted to say no, to say that he didn’t want to, hell, just leave him at the airport but… Virgil’s face betrayed his excitement, and Logan couldn’t put him down. 

So now he’s waiting in the pick up zone with his car, waiting for Virgil to come back and completely ignore him again. Logan blinks.

Is that what this is about? 

Does some part of Logan, some illogical part that manipulates his feelings, worry that Patton would mean Logan’s out of the picture? Logan grips the steering wheel. It’s Virgil’s choice! If he wants to hang out with Patton, sure. Sure. It’s fine. 

Logan makes a low growl. 

It’s not fine. 

~~~~

And… there was nothing he could do. He stopped coming to visit Virgil during the mid-semester break: why should he? Virgil was with Patton. He’s happy. He doesn’t need Logan around… 

Logan hates it. He hates not going over each day, each class ending with Virgil’s tiny smile. 

He hates his soulmate, whoever he is, for singing so sadly whenever he wakes up. 

“What's the name of the game? Does it mean anything to you? What's the name of the game? Can you feel it the way I do? Tell me please, 'cause I have to know… I'm a bashful child, beginning to grow…” 

“Shut up,” Logan tells him quietly each time he goes at it again, “Shut up. I don’t want your questions, I can’t answer them.” 

Logan, for the first time in his life, isn’t happy doing his work. There’s no gratification from finishing something: there’s no hunched over man beside him gesturing wildly as he finishes so quickly. There’s no giggle as he presses his glasses higher on his nose: there’s no smack on the shoulder when he corrects his work. It’s so… so bland. Was it always like this? 

Before Virgil, was it always like this? 

Logan finishes his test and hands it in at the front: his professor gives him a confused look. Logan twitches as his soulmate starts to sing: “It's you I like… not the things you wear…” 

“Is everything okay, Mr. Adleman? You seem… listless, lately. Distracted. And you took all of the allotted time to finish your work- quite out of the ordinary, I’d say,” 

“I assure you, sir, everything is normal,” he merely says, before adjusting his bag and exiting the classroom. 

“Not the way you do your hair… but it's you I like,” 

“Shut up,” Logan murmurs under his breath, walking stiffly with his head down down the hall. His soulmate’s voice is beautiful, as beautiful as always… but Logan can’t bear it. He’s already dealing with so much! To hear his soulmate’s longing notes doesn’t help. If anything, it exasperates his issues. Logan is grumbling under his breath when he hears it: and suddenly, all his issues get worse. 

Patton’s in a classroom, with his teacher and a few students, singing to them: 

“The way you are right now… way down deep inside you…” 

“The way you are right now… way down deep inside you…” and his soulmate croons at the same time. 

“Not the things that hurt you, not your toys; they're just beside… you,” 

“Not the things that hurt you, not your toys; they're just beside… you,” 

They both stop at the same note, and Logan swallows. 

Patton. 

Patton, smiley, hazel-eyed, exuberant, talkative, Patton, is his soulmate? Patton, the Patton he’s been mildly despising for the past few days.

 I can’t believe it. But I presume… he has a right to know. And maybe we can make this work? 

“Ah… Patton,” Patton’s face whirls to Logan’s in the door, and his face lights up. Logan can’t help but set his face: aren’t soulmates supposed to elicit some kind of joy in their partners? When they finally figure it out, isn’t it supposed to be some revelation? 

“Logan!! How nice!! I haven’t seen you this whole trip, what a delight! Virgil’s been all out of sorts without you around, it seems,” Patton grins, sliding off the desk he was sitting on and walking over to Logan. 

“I- I think- I think you’re my soulmate,” he stammers. 

“What?” 

“I- I heard your singing, in my head, as you were singing in here-” 

“Oh my god. No, no, Logan,” Patton smiles at Logan tearfully, his hands landing on his shoulders, “That was Virgil. I started singing that song because Virgil was singing it again when I left.” 

“That’s- that’s impossible how-”

“If you need any more proof, then just look at my soulmate: I met him at school, he flew in after me,” Patton smiles dreamily and waves at a man sitting in the corner, typing on his phone: he has two black forearm crutches and deep burn scars  across the left side of his face. 

“Hullo,” he greets from the other side of the room, “I’m Janus. Pleasure, fellow Patton soulmate,” Logan’s mouth dries as Patton giggles. 

“It’s really Virgil. That- that makes a lot of sense but- I can’t believe it-” 

“Okay, how about this, Lo?” Logan’s nose scrunches at the nickname, “I’m going to send a message to Virgil: and you go sneak back to the apartment. He’ll sing. It’ll match up. Then you have to confess. He’s thought he’s been alone… for so long. He’ll be so happy: so thrilled to have a soulmate… even more so if it’s you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Patton shakes his head, chuckling. Logan looks away: his teary eyes are too much for him. Logan clears his throat. 

“Let our third go, Pat!” Janus calls, his voice smooth. Logan casts him a glare, though he blushes, and walks off. Thousands of thoughts swirl through his head, clouding his vision. He almost loses his way to the dorms. His mind is so full, so so so full, and then a voice breaks through it all. 

“If I could ride a bike, I’d zoom around the world, with you sitting there behind me…” 

Logan’s breath hitches. If that’s Virgil, he hates not seeing it before. Meeting him and not loving him right away. Not beating around the bush. But embracing him with everything he is, using all he knows to help all he needs. 

“I’ll take you to places, past several faces… just livin life so carefree. If I could sail a boat, I'd cruise across the seas, a sweet adventure for us two,” 

His pace increases as he gets to the dorms: he runs up the stairs maybe a little too fast. The music increases in volume but perhaps it’s in his head. The door to Virgil’s room is cracked open. 

“I'll be Jack and you Rose, just please don’t let me go, cause I'll be nothing without you. Oh when you call me… I'm drifting on clouds, like I'm dreaming,” 

Logan’s footsteps falter as he peers through the door. Virgil, with a guitar, singing those notes so sweetly. It matches up in his head, it matches perfectly, and despite himself, Logan starts to er up. It’s perfect harmony, it makes his heart swell and the whole world brightens. 

This is what it’s supposed to be like.  This is my soulmate. Virgil’s voice rises and falls, and it becomes so mind numbingly soft. 

“But in the morning, I'll wake up and see that you're stuck… here with me,” Virgil sings, his voice sad, “If only you knew, what I would do for you. I'd jump up and hold you… so tightly…” Virgil sobs, “Logan. Logan. I’m sorry. Whatever I did. I’m sorry. I miss you.” 

Logan’s chest pulls. His voice is like an angel. Virgil, his soulmate, wants him back. Everything he thought… was wrong. He needs to tell him, he needs to- 

No. No, it would embarrass both of them, and Virgil’s anxious. He needs to do it in a way that would make no room for error, no room for suspicion of any foul intent. 

Logan… needs to sing. 

~~~~ 

It’s all planned out, only a few days later. The sun is out, the weather is warm. Patton has Virgil entertained, introducing him to Janus in the front lawn. Roman and Remus are keeping people away in their respective fashions so that they have privacy. Logan adjusts his tie, getting ready in their apartment. He wants to have the song at it’s apex before meeting him as his soulmate. 

Logan clutches the ring in his pocket: a customary soulmate ring, black and fitted to Virgil’s finger. They haven’t been together, and he doesn’t have to accept it of course but… he wants to do this right.  

This has to be perfect. 

He takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to sing. 

“I'm nothing special, in fact I'm a bit of a bore… If I tell a joke, you've probably heard it before,” Logan sings softly. He chuckles- something so foriegn to him, so averse to what he wanted to do just a week ago- and he doesn’t sound bad. As he sings the next few lines, he runs out to the window by the elevators and can just barely make out Virgil on a picnic blanket rising to his feet and looking around confusedly. Logan carefully walks down the stairs, taking his time as he goes: 

“So I say- thank you for the music, the songs I’m singing. Thank you for all the joy they’re bringing: who can live without it? I asked in all honesty, what would life be- without a song or a dance, what are we? So I say thank you for the music, for giving it… to me,” he sings, breaking out into the fresh air. Logan sings the next few stanzas under his breath, making his way to Virgil’s picnic spot. Virgil’s standing up, shaking Patton’s shoulder and signing wildly. 

“I've been so lucky, I am the girl with golden hair: I wanna sing it out to everybody…. What a joy, what a life, what a chance!” his voice rises as he nears the grass, heart beating wildly. 

Virgil’s fallen to his knees, his crying sounding even from where Logan stands, dozens of feet away. 

“Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing. Thanks for all the joy they're bringing. Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty… What would life be? Without a song or a dance what are we? So I say thank you for the music,” he’s suddenly close, standing at Virgil. Virgil looks up, tears running down his face. He gasps: he smiles: he laughs. “For giving it to me.” 

Virgil stumbles to his feet, and wraps his arms around Logan’s middle. He chuckles, and hugs him back, squeezing him tightly. Virgil cries into his chest, hiccuping and laughing all the same. 

“So I say,” he rubs his back, and presses a light kiss into his hair, “Thank you for the music, for giving it… to me.” 

There’s no fanfare, no wild confetti or cheering. It’s quiet, as Patton and Janus laugh and Virgil tearily accepts his ring before digging back into his chest. It would be perfect like this but then… 

“Logan,” Virgil whispers, hiding in his chest, “Logan.” It’s so quiet, but it makes his heart burst in joy. Virgil didn’t have to say anything, he would love him anyway, but it shows. It shows the trust. 

“Surprise,” he whispers back, pulling him in closer. “Thank you. For everything, Virgil.”

~~~~~

The End! Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed! 

Taglists:

Anything & Everything: @myraiswack, @blindtaleteller, @head-over-heart, @karushinekomiya

Sides of the Sanders: @a-goldengirl-in-a-condominium246 

If you enjoyed, please reblog- it truly means the world.

Want to be tagged on other works in this genre or just generally? Asks, DMs, or comments are all wonderful.

Liked it a whole coffee’s worth? Here’s my Ko-fi.

[infjsnightmare]

How You Met: Guild Style

A/N: Hello! This one was so much more difficult to write. I think maybe I just don't have as good a grip on the personalities of the guild so much. Lol. So, this might have a bit more OOC than the other two. Also, I flip-flopped for a while and decided not to include Francis since he is canonically married, but if anyone wants me to, I can probably include him on the same one that I include any other extraneous characters on. With that out of the way, I sincerely hope that you like this! Feedback of any kind is always welcomed and appreciated.

John: You were scanning the aisles of the convenience store, looking for any food that was on sale. Your eyes lit up when you found a tuna salad sandwich for only 99 cents. You should have enough change for this at least. All your money went to rent since being laid off and you actually hadn't eaten in two days. This was like a holy grail. Placing the sandwich in front of the large man at the register, you turned your change purse inside out. Meticulously counting each coin, you realized you only had 87 cents, which was 12 cents too short. The man scoffed taking the sandwich away as he chastised you and told you to "get a job". You were on the brink of tears when a hand came up from behind you and dropped the remaining needed change on the table. An angry looking young blond man glared menacingly at the employee as he spat at him, grabbing the sandwich and placing it in your hands.

"Why don't you get a life, jackass?"

Lovecraft: The sun was beaming hot as you lay back in the sand and let the warmth overtake you. The smell of the ocean and the distant cry of seagulls relaxed your body. You sighed, sitting up to watch the waves crash against the shore when you saw something dark begin emerging from the water. At first it looked like seaweed, but slowly a tall lanky man in a suit slowly walked up out of the water, absolutely drenched. Your eyes widened in fear as it looked like something straight out of a horror movie. You watched intently as the man walked up on to the beach aimlessly. Then he turned his head at an unnatural to look straight at you.

"Where can I get some ice cream?... It's too hot."

Lucy: You were at work, scrubbing the floors by the cash register even though your shift ended over an hour ago. You weren't going to get paid for this overtime either, but you knew you needed the job to make ends meet. Your boss also knew this, unfortunately, and took advantage of it. The manager lazily eyed you as they were laughing with a friend of theirs who had stopped by. "Put some more elbow grease into it!" You heard the teasing chirp from the idiot. You felt like a dog. Gritting your teeth, you scrubbed furiously, imagining the spot on the floor to be your manager's face. Until you were interrupted by a the voice of a young girl with a slight blush adorning her face, almost the same shade of red as her hair.

"It's really none of my business....and it's not like I care or anything...but, you shouldn't let your employer treat you like a slave."

Edgar: You were perusing the mystery section of the library and had finally settled on which book you would like to read next. Pulling it of the shelf, you tucked the book under your arm and made your way to the sitting area to give the first few chapters a quick read before deciding to borrow it for the week. When you got to the desk, you noticed that there was a printed manuscript left on the table. You set down the book you were holding in favor of the paper-clipped pages. You were delighted by the writing. It was a magnificent mystery. You were smiling from ear to ear as you read each page with fervor. You were slightly take aback at the light tugging at your clothes, looking down to see a raccoon. Followed closely behind him was an adorable man with tousled dark hair and a crimson blush over his whole face.

"Ah! My manuscript! I must have left it here, I'm so sorry!"

Mark: You were walking through your usual peaceful trail in the woods, following the path of a small creek. The crunch of dead leaves underfoot and the crisp autumn air made the atmosphere serene and enticing. You could've have lost yourself to the sounds of nature if it weren't for the the whooping and hollering that you heard further down the creek. As you drew closer, you could hear the shattering of glass breaking, followed by another victorious yell. You finally came to a small clearing, seeing a vivacious young man with bright orange hair shooting rocks at glass bottles with a sling-shot. He looked at your direction and aimed the sling shot towards you. You opened your mouth to protest when he released the stone. It whirred past your head, hitting a bottle strung up on a tree branch behind you. The man beamed with glee.

"Boom! Nailed it!"

Nathaniel: Looking out your window this morning, you felt giddy at the light dusting of snow you saw. Snow was a rarity in December and here it was, on Christmas no less. Placing your jacket on, you dashed out of your apartment to walk and see all the lights around town and the couples holding hands. It was a joyous atmosphere despite it being a minor holiday. You stopped in your tracks when you saw a tall man dressed in priestly garb, sitting and reading from a book that you could only assume was religious in nature. You'd never seen a priest before and were rather awestruck as you watched his silver hair fall in front of his glasses as he poured over his book. You didn't even look away when he stopped reading to stare back at you. Or when he cleared his throat with his brow lifted in irritation. Or even when he stood up and walked the few steps closing the distance between you. But, once he spoke, you finally felt embarrassment as your cheeks felt hot against the winter air.

"You do realize that it is particularly rude to stare, right?"

Margaret: The vending machine whirred as you selected your drink. It was sweltering out and you definitely needed the cool liquid to combat the heat during your break. You'd been moving containers off the ships all morning, so you were pretty beat by the time your break rolled around. You sat on the edge of the dock listening to the squabble between two passengers on a boat. One passenger was dressed in religious attire and seemed apathetic towards the argument. The other passenger was a tall woman dressed in a large frilly dress with a rather robust petticoat. Her honey-hair was pulled up under a sun-hat like a true southern american belle. In opposition to the man's apathy, she seemed quite fiery, eyes steeled and jaw clenched. In a huff, she marched down off the boat. The ramp led next to where you were sitting, eyeing the woman as you drank your beverage. Her eyes snapped towards you as she noticed your watchful gaze. She relaxed her her face ever so slightly meeting your eyes as she motioned towards the man on the ship.

"Bless his heart, but I swear some men just aren't raised proper."

Herman: The rain was was all you could hear as it pitter-pattered against your umbrella while you made your way back home. Your feet were walking along the slippery cobblestone sidewalk with a practiced gait. You always took this path home. The same scenes, the same faces- nothing to shake you from your daze. However, the faintest glow of white caught your attention. You rubbed your eyes with your free hand to confirm that you were, in fact, seeing a small white whale happily floating through the air and rain. You followed it in wonderment until you came across an older gentleman sitting on a bench smoking from a pipe, umbrella propped against the back of his seat. You watched as the whale twirled around. Compelled, you sat on the wet bench, next to the sun-tanned man drawing him out of his own thoughts. He gave you a wry smile as the whale danced between you.

"Care to sit and chat with a tired, old man?"

Louisa: It was a busy day. You were run ragged as you tried to complete all the errands you had scheduled for yourself today. You had already dropped off a few packages at the post office. Renewed your insurance for the year and now you were in a hurry to pick up your dry-cleaning before the store closed for lunch. You picked up your pace, reaching for the door. Only, when you opened it, an armful of bagged clothing came tumbling on top of you. With it, fell a small-framed young lady with round glasses and the cutest flustered expression you'd ever seen. Her eyes widened in shock as her face turned scarlett.

"Oh n-no! I'm so so so so sorry! Please do-don't be angry!"

[inseongsfoxybae]

Do you want me?

Pairing: Boyfriend Dawon + Female Reader; established relationship

Genre: Smut + Fluff ending

Warnings: Hard dom!Dawon, jealousy, dirty talk/cursing, exhibicionism(?), unprotected sex (reader’s on birth control), orgasm denial, a bit of fingering, some slapping, creampie + after care

Words: +2k

Requested by @dawon-kun​: Hello, since you LOVE to attack us all, could make either a Dawonie jealous smut or a SF9 reaction when their gf tries to dom them and successfully?🥵🥵🥵

Author’s message: Hey, babe! Your request is finally out and I hope you like it as much as I enjoy working on it. I show here Dawon’s roughness and his insecurity about losing his girl for another men. Our sweet cutie pie TT. Well, this is it! Foxy kisses  😘

P.S: As english is not my mother language, it may contain misspelled. Also, sorry for any other mistakes :)

Synopsis: Dawon gets jealous after your best guy friend tease him during a dinner, but you are the one punished by him when you got home. 

this gif *holy shit*

Some of your friends were on vacation in Korea and took the opportunity to spend some time with you and reminisce about the old good times. As your Dawon was always busy with his schedules and practices, he couldn’t join you but he never complained about you meeting your friends and enjoying your time alone with them - even though you didn’t do video calls with him because of that. 

On a weekend when Dawon was free, he finally went out with all of you. You chose a more discreet place since your boyfriend was an idol and you wanted some privacy, and picked a cozy restaurant near your shared apartment. After all the greetings, you sat down between Dawon and your best guy friend, who had a crush on you during high school and was rejected all the times he confessed his feelings. 

Of course, he’d take this opportunity to tease you in front of your boyfriend, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and saying that you never dated him because he wasn’t an idol. “I’m not famous and don’t have this pretty baby face of yours, dude. That’s right she’s not my girl”, he spat at some point of the conversation, pulling you closer to him as Dawon locked eyes with him, a dark expression there. 

Dawon was quieter than normal, rejected all the drinks offered and barely talked. “You okay, jagi?”, you whispered when your friend shut his mouth for a second. “I’m fine, just tired”, he forced a smile and shrugged you off. You nodded and got back to your happy chat with that annoying guy. At this point, your friend stopped teasing Dawon directly, but he was still too close to you, telling stupid jokes that made you laugh like an idiot. Your boyfriend was surely getting done with all this shit. 

He could bear that for half an hour, but it seemed like an eternity for him. Suddenly, Dawon got up from his seat next to you, purposefully hitting the table to catch your eyes again. “It’s time to go, Y/N”, he said seriously, his dark expression meeting your startled one. “It’s still so early, dude. Stay a little longer”, your guy friend intruded. Dawon just ignored him and grabbed your hand, pulling you up. “We must go now. It’s on me tonight”, Dawon spat off and dragged you out the table. 

“Dawon, what are you doing?”, you whined behind him while he paid the bill. 

“I can’t deal with that idiot anymore”, he simply answered, his voice low and deep. 

“Hyukie, why are you like this? I told them you were cool”, you sulked and he only glanced at your pout. 

“Are you coming with me or not?”, he questioned without looking at you. 

“At least, lemme say goodbye”, you whimpered, holding onto his arm. 

“Now, Y/N”, he commanded, staring down at you. 

Seeing how serious he was, you just nodded and left with him. You walked home without exchanging a single word, Dawon’s eyes locked on the way ahead, you followed right behind him with your head down. Arriving in your apartment, he went straight to your bedroom, leaving you aback in the hallway. 

“Baby, talk to me”, you pleaded to him while entering your room, watching him take off his clothes. 

“I’m gonna shower. Wanna join me?”, he suggested still not looking at you. 

But before you could say anything, your phone rang and you paused before answering. “It’s him”, you murmured and Dawon automatically understood who they were. 

“Answer”, he said, approaching you and snaking his hands around your waist. Dawon pressed your body against his and waited for you to answer. He was only on his boxers at this point, so you felt a little nervous, but didn’t say anything. 

“Hey”, you talked on the phone, startling when you felt Dawon’s hands run over your belly and hips.

“Keep talking”, he whispered in your free ear, his fingers now unzipping your dress and sliding it down your body, exposing your underwear.

You turned your head to look at him, meeting his angry eyes, a sparkle of desire lighting his pupils. He unclasped your bra and slowly started to massage your breasts, pinching your already hard nipples between his fingers.

“Let’s show him who you belong to”, he growled against the skin of your neck, kissing and biting your sweet spots as his hands went down your panties, rubbing your clothed core. 

You struggled to keep your gasps and moans as a minimum throughout the phone, but it was proving to be more difficult with every single touch Dawon ministrated on your body. He pulled you closer to him and you felt his bulge against your butt, a loud moan daring to get out of your throat. 

“Y/N, are you okay?”, your friend asked on the other side of the call. 

“Keep talking”, Dawon groaned while biting a good portion of your shoulder, his hard dick now grinding against you. 

“Yeah, I just hit my pinky on a corner”, you breathed on the phone, trying to supress your growing moans. Behind you, you heard Dawon discarding his boxers away, your panties following right after. He grabbed your hips and led you to bed, forcing you forward. 

“Bend over, baby girl”, he growled before slapping the cheeks of your butt. “Head down, ass up”, Dawon instructed and you obeyed, sinful thoughts running through your mind now. “Put on the speakerphone”, he commanded and your shaking hands did the job.

Dawon slid his dick between your dripping folds, gruning at your wetness, before pushing his length fully into your pussy. Neither of you couldn’t hold your moans and you couldn’t pretend anymore, your friend surely knew what was really going on now. 

“Y/N, are you fucking righ now?”, he questioned in disbelief. 

“Yeah”, Dawon was the one who talked. “Looks like the idol with a pretty baby face is fucking his girl right now”, he groaned, picking up a fast pace against your hole. “If you don’t mind, hang up the phone and let me ruin my baby in peace”, he reached for your phone and turned it off, tossing it somewhere in your bedroom. 

“Now, it’s only the two of us, princess”, Dawon growled pulling your hair mercilessly. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk properly for one week. Is it okay for you?”, he inquired. 

“Yes, daddy”, you weakly mewling as his hands wrapped loosely around your neck, thrusting deeper into your hole. Your head was getting light and your vision blurred as your orgasm was near. 

Dawon felt you clenching around him, your walls tighten as legs shaking, and suddenly stopped his moves, slipping out of you. You whined at the sudden loss of friction and fullness and heard Dawon chuckling behind you. 

“Do you think you’ll get it so easily after treating me so bad tonight?”, he whispered in your ear. “Do you think I’ll let you cum this fast after ignoring me for the whole week?”, he slapped your butt again, before inserting one finger inside your pussy, making you squirm and gasp, feeling you clench around his index. 

“Look at you. So desperate for me”, Dawon teased pushing in and out, curling his finger and reaching your g-spot. You moan his name and he took it off, hurt whimpers falling from your mouth. He gave you a devil laugh and pushed you into the mattress, so now you were lying on your stomach. 

You felt him climb on bed and set himself on your entrance again, slamming into you in one go, his name echoing in the room. His pace was rough since the beginning, his balls spanking your pussy harshly, muffled moans into the mattress, fists grabbing the sheets helplessly. 

As the knot in your stomach was getting tighter and about to explode over you, walls clenching desperately around Dawon’s dick, he slowed down his thrusts again until a halt. His breath was heavier now as he was getting lost in his pleasure as well. 

“Lee Sanghyuk”, you whined, reaching for his hand behind you. “Please, let me cum”, you begged.

“Lee Sanghyuk?”, Dawon’s tone was low and dark.

“Daddy… please, daddy”, you were almost crying, trying to pinch your legs together for any type of friction. 

“On your back, princess”, Dawon chuckled, watching you quickly turn around, both of your eyes meeting automatically. He leaned closer to you, staring at your lips for a brief moment before locking your gazes again. “Do you want me?”, his hot breath fanned on your face. 

“So badly”, you confessed, hands rubbing up and down his back. 

“Do you really want me? I mean, among all of them, all the men in the world?”, Dawon’s eyes soften. 

“Of course I do! You’re my bae, my only one”, you reassured him, pecking his lips softly. 

Dawon smiled against your lips before collecting them for a passionate breathtaking kiss, a low “I love you” fell from his mouth. 

“I love you too”, you whispered when you parted, just before he changed positions and pulled you on top of him. 

“Straddle me”, Dawon was begging for you with his best puppy eyes and of course you wouldn’t say no to your man. You put your legs on either side of his hips and easily slid his dick inside you, loud moans breaking through your throats. 

Dawon pulled you closer to his chest and digged his heels on the mattress, wasting no time to thrust deeply upwards, filling you completely, hitting all the right spots instantaneously. Your creamy pussy made his work easier, both of your wetness making everything better. 

“So good, princess… You take me so well”, Dawon hissed into your mouth, setting a harsher pace. 

“This is so good, Sanghyukie”, you moaned, your hips meeting his thrusts. “Deeper”, you cried out as he granted your wish, his length stretching your tight walls perfectly. 

“I’m so close, babe”, he breathed between gritted teeth. 

“Me too…”, you gasped before screaming his name when he hit the perfect angle inside you. “I’m gonna cum”, you yelled as your walls constricted around him and your waters washed over you. 

Dawon smiled at you while his face contorted in pleasure. “Will you let me cum inside?”, he moaned as his dick twitched inside of you. 

“Cum for me, baby”, you whispered and he came undone, his warm seed painting your walls in white, “fuck’s” and groans filling your room. 

Dawon slowly pulled out, your fluids slipping from your swollen pussy and going down your inner thighs as you sat on top of him. You locked your eyes with his and smiled, bringing your hands up to cup his cute pink cheeks. 

“I love you, Sanghyukie… so bad. Please, never doubt this”, you begged, putting your foreheads together. “I’m only yours”, you whispered before kissing him gently. 

His strong arms snaked around you, pressing your body into his, kissing you back. “I’m so sorry, bae”, he mumbled softly against your lips. “I treated you badly tonight and didn’t trust in your feelings completely”, he sighed. “I’m sorry about this”. 

In responde, you removed some locks of his hair from his eyes and kissed him again, deeper this time. “It’s okay”, you calmly answered. “Just promise you’ll never do this again, huh? Never doubt again, okay?”, you watched him nodding. 

“I promise”, his hand reached for your hair to tug some strands behind your ear. “I love you so much, Y/N. You know it, right?”. 

“I know”, you smiled down at him. “I love you too and I want you in my life forever”. 

“I want you too”, Dawon grinned before pulling off of him and getting up. “Can you walk?”, he shyly asked, knowing the damage he was used to cause to you. 

“I don’t think so”, you chuckled, extending your arms for him. Dawon took you in his arms and carefully led you to the bathroom, helping you to clean up.

Now, wearing some few clothes and lying on your comfy blankets, both of you cuddled and closed your eyes, just enjoying each other’s heartbeats and steady breaths, soft “I love you’s” whispered before you two feel asleep.

[smallerinfinities]

Cake

a/n: when tipsy meets twitter, all bets are off

hello! I woke up three days ago like I’d been reborn in my love for this kid, so I wrote this filth 😅 i’ve posted a few times recently about this video but if you haven’t seen it, scroll my blog or search cake lol trust me it’s worth your time. 

(masterlist is linked in my description)

warnings: 3.9k of absolute filth

Movie night had ended hours ago, giving way to sleepy rideshares and drunken footsteps into the second bedroom. Brian was passed out and snoring in the giant armchair across from you. The Top Gun drinking game had gone wrong at around the eighth high five and completely derailed at the sixth “Iceman,” which became a salud of sorts in the room. Beer cans, mango White Claws, and the occasional tequila bottle littered the kitchen island.

“Psst, are you awake?” a toe poked your side from above. Shawn looked down at you with a cocked eyebrow from under his crooked elbow. You’d taken residence behind his legs, resting your head on his hip to watch the movie, bowing out of getting totally trashed. Your lips were still tingly enough to be dangerous.

“Yeah,” you croaked, clearing your throat and stretching, “I’m awake.”

“Are you suuure?” he slurred, tired and tipsy. The smirk was audible, “I thought I felt you drooling through my sweatpants.” His breath came out in a whoosh when you punched him in the abs with your outstretched arm.

“How’s that for awake, fucker?!” He chuckled and caught at your hand, unfisting your fingers and playing with them as he pulled out his phone. You let him. You even opened your hand fully so he could trace little patterns on your palm.

It had been like this for a few months, the flirting, the touching. A drunken night of 20-somethings playing spin the bottle had ended with multiple people clearing their throats with wide eyes as Shawn kissed you.

My God, he had kissed you. Fingers splayed against your neck, his lips gently interlocked with yours. It started out chaste, just two mouths touching, but as soon as he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, it was game over. The people, the voices, your friends, all melted away and it was just the two of you. His top lip between yours. Gentle sucking pressure. His body heat radiating onto your skin. It was everything you never knew you wanted. Until Connor clapped Shawn on the shoulder and ripped him away, turning the two of you into human embarrassed laughing emojis.

Since then, it had been like this. His hand on your lower back at the coffee shop, lazy naps together after midday movies, play fighting and fake indignation after one too many shots at the bar. Your friends all shared sideways looks and snide smirks every time you hung out but you hadn’t crossed any lines again and you definitely hadn’t talked about it. Whatever it was didn’t need conversation. It was fun. It was nothing. He was busy. He was a globally-famous popstar. You were normal. The last thing you wanted was one of those embarrassing tabloid articles, “15 Things You Need to Know About Shawn Mendes’s New Fling.” So, in the quiet moments, you let him trace patterns on your palm and send shivers down to your toes.

“Hey, come up here, I’m scrolling Twitter,” he swept his fingers down to your wrist and gave it a tug, a little giddiness in his tone. He made space for you in front of him on the couch, giving you his bicep as a pillow. You settled back against his hard chest and let your legs weave into his. He’s so goddamn warm. It was a mistake wearing jean shorts to his condo. There was a part of you that wondered if he turned the A/C down on purpose but you didn’t want to think about why.

Scrolling Twitter, where Shawn saw the most fan activity, was one of your favorite pastimes. Seeing the reactions to this dude you knew in real life was occasionally shocking, sometimes horrifying, but always amusing. He held the phone out in front of you and thumbed through his feed.

Most of his mentions were about missing him. He’d been on a break since the end of his last tour, taking some time to himself without a schedule for every minute of every day. For a guy who had been taking photos with fans pretty much everyday for the last seven years, you understood why they might be freaking out. He’d broken the pattern. Thank God for that.

You tried to keep your eyes from crossing at the repeated “I miss Shawn @shawnmendes” tweets and the feeling of his alcohol-warmed fingers against your hip. I shouldn’t want this.

“Wait!” you snapped a finger at his phone, “what was that?”

“Oh, that?” he scrolled back, “it’s just an old video.” His voice broke a couple octaves on the last bit. The tweet was accompanied by the wide-eyed blushing emoji. Curious. You raised an eyebrow and watched. He was eating a guitar-shaped cake...with his hands. Mouth wide open, his face buried over and over in thick pieces of chocolate cake with some kind of blue frosting on it. It was fucking filthy. You rubbed your thighs together absent-mindedly.

“What do the comments say?” You poked at his phone before he could move it away.

“Oh, nothing really,” his voice was still high, which meant he knew what the comments likely said. You huffed and grabbed at the phone. “Shawn, you know I have Twitter, I’ll see it whether you like it or not!” You rammed your hips backward, pausing for a second when you felt something you weren’t expecting, but not for too long. He sucked in a breath, coughing, and dropped his phone—right into your waiting hands.

“Hahaha!” You jumped up and ran to the other side of the big white couch, kicking your legs in victory, “I win!” He tripped over his own oversized limbs before he got to you, falling to the floor within reach of your feet. He reached out and pulled your legs toward him, framing his face between your thighs. Your giggles stopped short and your face flamed.

“Can you assholes get a room?!” Brian was awake and fussing at the thin fleece blanket he’d scrounged off the back of the couch. He rolled over mumbling something that sounded like just fucking fuck already but you were too busy thinking about Shawn’s head still between your legs to be bothered by it.

Shawn slowly lifted his finger to his lips in the universal sign to be quiet and untangled himself to stand. He reached out a hand and you didn’t hesitate to grab it, leading you to his bedroom down the hall. You held his phone in a death grip, unwilling to let go in case he caught you off guard.

The room was dark, save for his phone, the rectangle reflecting a solid white off the wall of glass facing the city. The CN Tower lights flickered in the late night sky, seemingly suspended in midair. His unmade  bed was the biggest and brightest thing in the room. A white comforter hung half on the floor at an odd angle off the corner of the mattress, his white sheets completely exposed. The pillows were all scrunched up at the headboard, like he’d been kicking and pushing all night long. Like he hadn’t slept soundly in weeks.

“Okay, so what you’re about to read…” he shut the door behind him, scrubbing at the back of his neck, “it’s gonna be weird, but like it’s fine I’m used to it. They’re...a little invasive.” Weird? Invasive? Curiouser and curiouser…

You walked over to his bed, picking up the comforter and tossing it haphazardly back onto the bed, and sat on the edge staring at the video and letting it play a few more times. Then you swiped down.

@canadianmendussy: ALEXA PLAY BIRTHDAY CAKE BY RIHANNAAAAA

@perfectlyru1n: oh my goD does he really go down like thAT?!

“Oh...my God,” you covered your mouth to keep from laughing, “you’ve seen this before?”

He bounced on the mattress facedown, mumbling something into the sheets.

“What was that?” you asked, with Southern sweet tea levels of sugar. You ruffled his hair, brushing through his curls. He turned his head, his face flushed with more than just alcohol.

“I said yes, I’ve seen it before…” he opened one eye and looked up at you, “I usually just ignore them.”

There were over 400 replies on this tweet, some people chiding the horny stans for posting something Shawn can see, others just piling on.

@illuminateruin: is that cake gluten-free?

@kidinlover: @illuminateruin idk but I know pussy is

@particularbenito: CAN HE EAT PUSSY LIKE THAT?!?!?!

“Can he eat pussy like that...” you read out loud under your breath, your mind conjuring up that image of his face between your thighs. Shawn’s head shot up, eyes wide.

“What???” His face was practically magenta at this point, “is that a serious question??”

“What? Uhh, no. Not serious. A reply actually,” you rushed, giving him a sideways look. I mean...maybe it was a serious question? The curiosity was going to kill you. Oh, no. No, no, no. Your lips tingled.

“Well, I mean….can you?” You could hear the glint in your eye.

Fuck it all.

“Can I….w-what?” he stuttered, the air crackling between the two of you. He looked like a cornered animal, like the wrong move would get him killed.

“Can you,” you pushed a loose curl out of his face and nodded toward his phone, “eat pussy like that?”

Oh, God, did I just…?

“I’ve never gotten any complaints,” your head popped up at his self-satisfied tone. Gone was the red-faced shy boy talking about embarrassing fans. The Shawn in front of you was...confident. Hungry. His fingers grazed your ankles resting beside him. It didn’t escape your notice. You shivered.

It wasn’t cold.

“M-maybe they were just too afraid to tell a big, famous rockstar that he sucked,” you were the one stuttering now, face heating by the second.

“Oh, sucking was definitely part of it,” his fingers traced the indent in your calf. You refused to pull away even though you should, even though part of you—a small, shrinking part—knew that if this went where it was definitely going, things were going to change. You snuck a finger under his chin to pull his gaze to yours.

“Is that a promise?”

“I don’t know,” he flashed a toothy smile, gravity and sheer force of will pulling his body toward yours, “is that an invitation?”

I’m probably gonna regret this in the morning.

Your lips crashed into his, giving him your answer. His mouth was hot, his breathing heavy. Tongues and teeth and lips wrestled together, refusing to part while he made his way above you, crawling on hands and knees between your legs as you settled against the pillows. He licked up into your mouth just before nibbling on your bottom lip, forcing a moan from deep inside you. This was primal, the need you felt with him. Like once you came together, nothing could break you apart.

His hands moved up your body, scratching gently at your exposed legs and slipping beneath your hoodie. He broke away from your lips to shuck off your top and expose all your delicate skin. His fingers slipped beneath your lace bralette and he played with the tiny clasp between your breasts.

“Is this okay?” he asked, a little out of breath, his thin t-shirt pressing against your skin.

You nodded so quickly you thought your neck might snap. He popped the clasp and spread his calloused hands across your chest. The friction was glorious. Your body chased his fingers involuntarily, bowing up off the high thread count sheets.

“Be still, baby,” he whispered, dipping his head and placing an open mouthed kiss just above your belly button. Your eyes rolled back at the pet name, another moan escaping your lips. Warmth rushed between your legs.

“Shawn,” you gasped, trying to control your breathing so he didn’t know just how fucked you were, “when I gave you an invitation, I didn’t expect you to be late to the party.” You rocked your hips up into his chest pointedly.

“Well, I can't just jump to the entrée, can I?” He fiddled with the button on your denim shorts, loosening it with a little pop. Teasing, he licked at a freckle just above your hip before sucking at it with enough force to leave a mark.

“Fuck!” Your hands shot down to his mop of curls, fingers buried in the thick locks. He pulled and nibbled at that spot over and over, all while grazing his fingers just beneath the waistband of your simple cotton cheeky panties.

When he pulled away, an angry red violet half-moon colored the skin. He took one last lick, smiling at your gasp in response.

“I love that sound,” he sat back on his heels between your legs, looking down at your heaving chest.

“I’ll make it again if you take that shirt off,” you reached for him with grabby hands, trying to Harry Potter that shit. He laughed and did the boy thing, grabbing his shirt at the back of his neck before tugging it forward off his body.

The gasp came again. Not even on purpose or because you’s promised him, but because he was so stupid gorgeous in the low light of the city you couldn’t help yourself. You’d seen him in hot tubs and at sweaty summer parties and in those fucking Calvin Klein pictures, but none of that compared to having him shirtless between your thighs just a few inches from your outstretched fingers.

His chest was flushed, some combination of adrenaline and alcohol. Little freckles dotted his lightly tanned skin all the way up his torso to the dusting of chest hair that colored his chest. His perfect pink nipples were hard against the cool air of the room, begging for you to touch or kiss or bite. Or all of the above. You reached out to trace his appendix scar where it peaked out of his low-slung sweatpants. His body danced away from you as he caught at your hand.

“Don’t,” he growled, weaving his fingers between yours and pressing his lips onto the back of your palm like a fucking Victorian gentleman. Like he wasn’t staring down at your hardening nipples thinking about how good they would feel pinched warm between his fingers. He tipped forward, bracing himself against the mattress, his mouth just a few centimeters from your skin. Dragging flesh against flesh, he left kisses at random in the valley between your breasts. Moving farther and farther down your body, he paused, sitting up on his heels.

“Are you sure?” He was breathing heavy, looking straight through you, both hands hovering around the edges of your shorts. You were nodding before he even finished his question.

He curled his fingers around all the fabric in his way, denim and cotton both, and dragged the offending pieces of clothing down your legs, lifting them off and tossing them against the wall across the room. You breathed steady, looking at him looking at you. His mouth hung open in speechless wonder.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he whispered, settling back between your thighs, a mirror of his earlier pose on the couch. Another wave of heat rushed straight to your clit, silently screaming for him.

“I know,” you brushed through his curls, giving him a suggestive grin when he looked up at you, “I taste good too.”

That was all the permission he needed. A second later, he buried his face between your legs, nudging your knees over his shoulders. His tongue swirled in circles around your clit finishing in random flicks. He moaned into you, his lips closing around your swollen folds with gently sucking pressure.

“Shit, Shawn!” you shouted, praying to the gods that everyone still in the condo was too drunk and passed out to hear you. The white sheets bunched in your fists, arms spread wide. Your thighs clamped down against his ears.

He continued his licks and flicks, snaking his hands up your legs and gently prying your legs apart. You clenched hard as he pinned your thighs to the mattress, holding you open with his forearms. Filthy sounds echoed off the walls, wet sucking, moaning from both of you. He dipped his chin and circled your entrance with his tongue, lapping at you.

“Christ!” your hands shot into his damp curls. He was working hard down there, flexing and moaning and fighting your spasms. You looked down and saw his hips impatiently rutting into the mattress. It only made you wetter, gushing onto his waiting tongue. He drank everything you gave him.

“He’s not here,” he said in a low and gravelly voice, a little breathless. He pulled back, the bottom half of his face shining in the dark. His fingers toyed with your sensitive, wet lips, watching as you twitched and trembled, so close to the edge. A firm circle around your clit had your back bowing, contorting backward off the bed. A single tear rolled down your temple.

“I’m so close,” you panted, trapping his outstretched hand against your skin.

“Shawn, I need you.”

“Need me?” His fingers paused, “need me where?”

“Oh, God, don’t stop,” you choked out, a sob threatening. Your back arched up off the sheets again to find friction. “I need...I need you inside me.”

At some point between your words and the needy moan that followed, he’d removed his sweatpants and a black pair of Calvins. You heard him rustling his hand inside the bedside table followed by the metallic sound of foil and the sharp scent of latex. Thank fuck he’s prepared.

When he dropped down onto his forearms, hovering an inch from where you needed him, you were dripping onto the sheets, grinding down into the mattress waiting desperately for him. He ran his nose over your collarbone, peppering kisses along your neck. It was slow and deliberate. A fucking tease.

“Shawn,” you pulled his face up to yours, all squished between your hands, “if you don’t fuck me right now, I swear I will…”

He pressed inside to the hilt in one swift motion, cutting off your threat.

“What are you swearing to do, princess?” he asked, a smirk and a fire in his eyes. The moan that escaped you in response was embarrassingly loud. He stilled and closed his eyes, allowing you to adjust. You took even breaths, relaxing into his hips, holding on to his shoulders for dear life. His cock was perfect. He was perfect.

I am so fucked.

He moved, slowly at first, stroking all the right places. When his hips separated from yours, pulling almost all the way out, he rutted back inside. It was deep, long thrusts touching some place inside you weren’t sure you knew was there. Your head thrashed against the pillows. Your grip on his shoulders turned sharp, clawing long red-raw marks into his pale skin.

“I’m not gonna last long,” he hissed into your ear, “fuck, you’re so tight.” His abs scraped against your body like a washboard, the tension clear in his muscles. He was wound up, ready to shatter. He crashed into you, repeatedly slapping skin against skin. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight, slow circles in contrast with the punishing rhythm of his hips. He lifted one of your legs over his hip to change the angle, to make you even tighter around him. A bead of salty-sweet sweat dropped from his chest into your mouth.

“Right...there,” you groaned, your eyes rolling back, “I’m gonna come!”

“That’s right, honey,” he grunted, flattening his fingers across your clit with intense pressure, “come for me.”

The room went white. The sound of your hips colliding was replaced with a high-pitched ring. Your world seemed to implode, your muscles moving independently. He wrapped his arms around your middle and held you as he fucked you through the waves, his weight the only thing keeping you from being swept away in the current.

“Stay here with me,” he cooed, sweet but taut in his throat. Your heart slammed against your ribs in rhythm with his hips. He grunted once, twice, three times with his final thrusts and came undone, pumping into the condom. Biting down on your shoulder to stifle his sounds, he sucked hard enough to leave an angry mark. You contracted around him, both inside and out, curling around his thighs and back and neck, letting the full weight of his completely spent body bring you back to full consciousness.

“Hey,” you fingered his frizzed and fucked curls, “Shawn?”

“Hmm?” he nuzzled into your hands and squeezed you a little tighter.

“You’re crushing me,” you exhaled, strained.

“Oh, fuck! I’m sorry!”

He shifted to his side, accidentally pulling out too quickly, making both of you wince.

“Shit, shit, I’m so sorry,” he was so cute when he was scrambling. He got up and threw out the used condom, quickly returning from the adjoining bathroom with a damp cloth.

“Come here,” he held his arms out, making a perfect you-sized place in front of him. You slid into it easily and let him press the cloth between your legs, wincing again.

“Did I hurt you?” There was so much concern in his voice.

“No, no, I just…” you held onto his arm, glad to be facing away, “I haven’t been fucked like that in awhile.”

“Glad to be of service.” You didn’t have to be looking at him to see his smug smile. Reaching back, you slapped his thigh in retaliation. He caught your hand and kissed it like a Victorian gentleman again, like it made up for his cockiness. You tried to convince yourself that it didn’t, flushing even harder than your just-fucked body should have allowed. He wrapped his arm around your front and intertwined your legs, snuggling his face into the nape of your neck.

“So, uhhh, are we gonna do this again?” he asked, barely concealing the hope in his voice.

“Shhh,” you said, yawning for effect, “we’ll talk about it in the morning. Just sleep.”

He exhaled against your back, placing one last kiss on the mark you were sure he’d left in the midst of his orgasm. You stared out into the Toronto skyline as his breathing evened, his quiet snores barely audible against the screaming voices in your head. As the light crept into the room, as morning dawned on your sleepless night, you repeated his question over and over again.

Are we gonna do this again?

There was an easy answer: yes. Yes, yes, yes, my God, yes you were going to do this again. But there was another, harder question to answer beneath it. If we do this again, will we ever be able to stop?

***

taglist: @justanotherfangurl272  @siennarossi @trustfundshawn @alone-in-madness @harryandmolly @thatindiannerdygirl @fromthicctosticcc @softmendesss @sinplisticshawn @nedthegay @september-lace @itrocksmysocks @disaster-rose @mendesoft @luvluvxx @i-play-video-games @ihearthemcallingforyou @gentleshawn @kitykatnumber @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @ijustreallylikeshawnokay @shhhawnmendes @shawnsblue @imaginashawnns @mendesficsxbombay @shawn-youth @kerwritesthings @starlightsivann @lavenderhoneymndes @begginyouformendes @fallinallincurls @shawn-youth​ @linanilssonfurberg​ @lostinshawnsmemory​ @bucky-ish​

(as always let me know if you want on/off the tag list...I realize I don’t post regularly and like half of these people could be out of the fandom lol)

[viastro]

the time for us | kwon soonyoung

ミ★ synopsis: in which you and soonyoung broke up six months ago and you run into each other at the club. [requested by @shoshishua​]

ミ★ genre: primarily angst, fluff at the end

ミ★ warnings: very very brief mention of blood

ミ★ word count: 2,452

ミ★ pairings: hoshi x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi! another oneshot hehe. my baby requested this one! we basically had this whole deal where we choose two sentences and a person for the other to write about. the two sentences i got were, “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.” as well as, “what happens if I do this?” so i hope you guys like this one!

There’s only been one guy in your life who you’ve loved. You may have been young, sixteen at the time, but it felt like you and Soonyoung could take over the world. You were both hardworking, always sneaking around the dance studio at late hours to practice. As well as being ambitious, proven by the fact that whenever the opportunity for a solo arose you and Soonyoung would compete against each other for it. 

It was when you both graduated high school that things started to fall apart. You were naive, thinking that since you two were together for three years you guys were practically married. Your relationship only took the turn for the worst once you and Soonyoung realized you both had incredibly different career paths. You wanted to become a nurse while he wanted to pursue dancing. You both completely supported each other, Soonyoung being ecstatic when your application for residency was approved, and you being excited when Soonyoung got into the talent agency. 

However, your schedules no longer lined up as you both became busier by the minute. Your late night calls became the new system for your guys communication, but that began to dwindle as well. Suddenly the excuse, “I’m tired, I had a long day.” began to be thrown around endlessly. Which may have been true, but it led the feelings of bitterness and anger to start to rise between you two due to the lack of communication. Or should you say, the lack of effort that was being put into the relationship.

The breakup was the worst thing either of you had to go through in your twenty years of living. That may sound like it’s an exaggeration, but it’s not. It ended with tears, a slam of a door, and Soonyoung throwing a plate across the room. Your relationship wasn’t the only thing that shattered that night, for the plate broke into what looked like thousands of pieces. It was a pain in the ass for Soonyoung to clean, so he didn’t. He left the shards of glass there for months, as some kind of way to punish himself for the things he said that night, for letting you go. 

He only cleaned it on the fourth month after the breakup because Chan came over and scolded him, telling him how dangerous it is. Chan basically held an intervention on Soonyoung’s behavior, and took him out to the club to try and get him to feel something again. 

Little did Chan know that it would simply make things worse.

Soonyoung started going to clubs almost every weekend to just bring home different girls in an attempt to get over you. It really doesn’t work though because the whole time he’s kissing a random girl his mind is just running off of you, you, you. 

He imagines that it’s you he’s kissing, that you’re the one he’s holding, that you’re the one laying with him after everything is said and done. He’s been doing this routine for six months now, and no one can stop him.

Honestly, you aren’t doing that much better either! You’re both god damn messes after the break up. You refused to leave your room the whole weekend after things ended horribly between you and Soonyoung. You’d only get up to go to work, then come back to your apartment and wallow in your own self pity. 

You only started going out a few months after the breakup because Seungkwan thought you needed to find somebody new. He had the same thinking as Chan when it came to this, and that’s why you’re here in this position now.

Dressed in a silk lavender dress and a pair of flats because god knows you can’t wear heels. You haven’t looked this put together in months, but you’re slowly falling apart on the inside once you take notice of who’s sitting at the bar talking to a really pretty girl. 

Yes, you guessed it, it’s Kwon Soonyoung. The guy who broke your heart six months ago, as well as you breaking his. You feel your heart pound against your chest as you look at him from the booth you and Seungkwan are seated at. His hair is no longer red like you remember, now dyed a dark black that emphasizes the sharpness of his jawline. He’s wearing a see-through shirt with a black fitted blazer over it, along with tight black jeans. 

“He looks great.” You mumble to yourself as you take a small gulp of the soju Seungkwan ordered for you. Soonyoung smiles at the girl when she rests her hand softly on his shoulder, and you find a bitter taste in your mouth.

“You know yn, the whole reason we came here was for you to get over [redacted], not eye fuck him.” You turn your head to glare at your friend, who’s giving you a knowing smile. 

“You knew he was gonna be here?” You ask and Seungkwan shrugs, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed. 

“Yeah.”

“And you thought bringing me here was a good idea… why?” 

“I live off of chaos.” You roll your eyes at his answer, turning away to look around the club. The dj is playing an Usher song, which is giving you major nostalgia. Specifically, it brings back the memory of you and Soonyoung fighting for who gets center when you were seventeen. Letting out a small sigh at the thought, your eyes find their way back to your ex-boyfriend, and your heart practically leaps out of your chest once your eyes connect with his.

Soonyoung is no longer paying any interest to the girl in front of him once his eyes land on you. His heart pounds violently against his chest once he realizes it’s been six months since he last saw you. He watches as you look around the room for a moment, only to lock your eyes with his. Your eyes immediately widen for a second, only to go back to normal.

she’s so cute, Soonyoung thinks to himself. He raises an eyebrow at you once he realizes this has now turned into a mini staring contest. You finally blink, choosing to look back at Seungkwan once you feel your hands begin to shake underneath the table. Soonyoung smirks, already feeling pretty buzzed from the bottle of soju he finished.

“Um, Hoshi, hello?” Soonyoung turns back to the girl he was speaking to, only to give her an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m interested tonight. You’ll find someone better, don’t worry.” Soonyoung tells her sweetly, and she gives him a sad smile. She nods her head before getting up off the chair and heading towards the dance floor. 

Soonyoung turns his head to look back at you only to realize you’re not sitting at the booth anymore. His eyes widen in panic for a moment turning around in his seat to look for you. You let out a small smile as you sit down in the seat the girl was sitting in a moment ago, waiting for Soonyoung to notice you. 

“Where’d she- AH!” You let out a small giggle at his reaction once he finally turns back and notices you sitting beside him. Soonyoung lets out an embarrassed cough, trying to play it cool. 

“It’s been a while.” He mutters, and you glance at him through the corner of your eye, taking notice of the pink tinge on his cheeks. From being tipsy or being embarrassed? Probably both. You take another sip from your soju before answering, “Yeah. It has.” 

“Why did you come here? I thought clubbing wasn’t your thing.” Soonyoung asks you, and you shrug.

“When we were dating it wasn’t, but I’m single now. Decided to try something new.” You respond, and Soonyoung feels a punch to his gut. You almost slap yourself in the face at the stupid, petty comment, but you keep your demeanor cool. Soonyoung downs another shot before standing up from the bar, feeling old anger resurface.

“I’m going to dance, it was nice seeing you.” His tone is as cold as ice, making a shiver run down your spine. You finally turn your head to look at him, and you both feel your breaths get taken away at the close proximity between you two. Soonyoung’s eyes travel from your eyes to your plush lips, and you feel your heart beat wildly in your chest. Soonyoung feels tears prick at the back of his eyes once your scent registers in his mind, triggering the feeling of home. A feeling that’s been lost for months.

“It was nice seeing you too.” You whisper softly, eyes glancing down to his lips, causing Soonyoung to clench his jaw. Before he does anything he’ll regret, he turns around and walks off into the crowded dance floor. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, turning in your seat to watch him.

Soonyoung feels your eyes on him as he begins dancing with a random girl, and it reignites the pain he thought was numbed away. You watch as the girl starts grinding back onto Soonyoung, and you feel your heart shatter once again. You weren’t ready to get over him, god you aren’t even over him. Watching the way Soonyoung starts to nibble on her neck is the last straw for you. You take one last sip of your soju before walking back to the booth you shared with Seungkwan. 

“I want to go home.” You demand and Seungkwan nods his head, not needing to ask why. The heartbroken expression on your face tells him everything he needs to know. 

“Yeah, I’ll take you home yn.” 

You fail to notice Soonyoung watching you leave.

“I can’t believe I’m still not over him.” You mutter to yourself as you pace around your apartment, barefoot but still in your dress. It’s been an hour since you left the bar and Seungkwan dropped you off at home, and you spent thirty minutes of that just sitting in the middle of your kitchen eating a slice of bread. 

“I know our breakup was so fucking stupid and I shouldn’t have left, but that was the past. How am I still hung up over the past when it’s been six fucking months.” You feel a sob begin to bubble in your chest as the fond memories flood your brain. 

You hear a knock on your door, causing you to pause your pacing in the living room. You carefully step over, looking through the peephole once you make it to the door. Your breath hitches in your throat once you see who’s on the other side, and you quickly make it to open the door. 

“Soonyoung.” You breathe out. He’s standing there in all his glory, looking a bit less put together than he was at the bar. You feel your blood run cold once you notice a red lipstick mark on his neck. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask softly, feeling vulnerable at the way his eyes rake your figure. 

“Can I come in?” He asks, and you nod your head, moving to the side so that he can step in. He slips off his shoes, and follows you to the kitchen. You open up your fridge, checking inside to see what refreshments you can possibly offer him.

“Do you want a drink? Food? I only have leftovers from this one thai restaurant-”

“I still love you.” You stop mid-reach into grabbing the can of coke, knowing it was his favorite while you two were dating. You close your fridge, and slowly turn around to face him. He has tears pricking at the back of his eyes, and you feel your heart stop when he takes a small step forward.

“Y-you, you what?” 

 “Our fight was stupid, and it was my fault. I wasn’t trying hard enough which is so horrible because you are quite possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I wish I stopped you from leaving that night because you never came back.” Soonyoung says, and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

“You’re drunk Soonie.” 

“I’ve never been so sure of something in my life.” He takes another step forward, and you look up at him, tears beginning to stream down your face. 

“I’ve regretted letting you go every single day these past six months. I’ve become someone so ugly on the inside. I feel like I’m not living and I’m doing stupid shit just to feel something again.” You bite the inside of your cheek even harder to the point that you taste the copperness of blood.

“I- I go to bars every weekend, I drink until I can’t remember, and I find a new girl to bring home just to make sure you’re not on my mind.” Soonyoung confesses and you look away from him, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, only for more tears to take its place. He takes another step forward so that your faces are mere inches apart. He presses a finger underneath your chin, making you look back up into his eyes. 

“But it never works.” 

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending they’re you, yn.” A tear falls from his eye, and you reach up to cup his cheek, wiping it away with your thumb. He lets out a small smile, leaning in a bit to test the waters.

“What happens if I do this?” He asks, his lips almost brushing against yours as he speaks.

“I don’t know.” You whisper, your hand dropping to clutch his shirt. Soonyoung reaches up and softly rests a hand on your cheek.

“I’m going to kiss you now, tell me if you want me to stop.” He mumbles, staring into your eyes. Another tear slips past as you nod your head, a small, sad smile gracing your features.

“Please.” 

It’s all Soonyoung needs to hear before he leans in, capturing your lips with his. His lips are slightly chapped, and it tastes salty due to the tears you both shed while also tasting like soju. However, it’s nothing short of perfect. Your hand moves from clutching his shirt to resting on the side of his neck as his arms reach around your waist, pulling you closer and holding you tighter. 

“Is this real? You love me?” Soonyoung asks against your lips, pulling you in again to taste your sweet lips that he’s been missing for months. A small smile escapes you, mumbling between kisses, “Yes, it’s real. I love you so much.” 

After six months of Soonyoung kissing random people imagining that it’s you, for the first time it’s finally you. 

it’s finally you.

[tact-and-impulse]

Basically, since I saw the novel translation that Akane meets with Kougami’s mom, my mind ran wild with speculation. Spoilers for up to First Inspector.

Stouthearted

Tomoyo is accustomed to living alone. Wake up, brush her teeth, have breakfast, check the news offered by her AI secretary.

The golden starfish cheerfully spins as it announces her Hue. “Mint green!”

“Thank you, Hoshiko.” She finishes her coffee, the bottom of the cup sweeter than the rest. She has a lengthy schedule for the weekend but just before she can bring it up, there’s a knock at her door, loud enough to scare Hoshiko into vanishing.

She fastens her bathrobe and runs a hand through her unruly hair. No one’s visited her in a long time. Uncertain and cautious, she only opens the door a crack, enough to see who this stranger is. “Hello?”

“Good morning!” Her visitor is a young woman, whose face is briefly obscured when she bows in greeting. Behind her, a storage drone patiently waits. “I’m sorry to disturb you. Inspector Tsunemori, from the Public Safety Bureau.” She holds up her ID in confirmation. “Are you Kougami Tomoyo-san?”

“Yes…please, come in.” Tomoyo pulls the door further. It’s best that whatever conversation will follow, it should happen inside.

“Ah, just a moment.” Tsunemori unlocks the drone and removes a box from the metal interior, almost too big for her to carry.

“Do you need help?”

“N-no, I’ve got it.” She sets it down and sighs with relief as Tomoyo closes the door.

“I know who you are.”

“Eh?”

“Well, a little.” She concedes. “Shinya called me now and then, and your name came up often. He said you were a good boss.”

It’s comforting to put a face to the name, and she does look young, but tragedy colors a person in a specific, indelible way. Tomoyo recognizes it as Tsunemori’s gaze clouds over. Her answer is strained. “Not as good as I would have liked to be.”

An awkward pause follows, before Tomoyo offers. “I was finishing breakfast. Would you like anything?” Even as she asks, she heads into the kitchen and grabs a cup.

“I don’t want to bother you-”

“No, not at all. It’s been a while since I’ve had a guest, so I apologize for the clutter. Tea? Coffee?”

Tsunemori gives a little smile. “Coffee, please. And I don’t mind, my apartment is far from organized. Oh.”

“What is it?”

“I just realized I might have made things worse for you. Um, the box has books and clothes. Personal items. Not the dishes though, the Bureau took them for reuse. Anyway, I thought, since you’re his mother, you would like his things.” The girl is very nervous, stumbling over her words, but she doesn’t break eye contact. It reassures Tomoyo.

“I would. Thank you very much.” She softly replies. “For now, unpacking can wait. Have a seat.”

They sit across from one another, Tomoyo having refilled her own cup halfway. She’s unsure of what to discuss; there must be protocol to adhere to, and she doesn’t want to make things more difficult for Tsunemori.

Thankfully, Tsunemori speaks first. “I’m sorry, if I interrupted any plans.”

“Nothing urgent. When you live alone for a long time, plans become flexible. I should be the one apologizing, if you’re on the clock.”

“No, it’s okay. I haven’t taken time off before, and this had to be done.”

Hm. She decides Tsunemori isn’t bad.

They sort through the box together. Tomoyo doesn’t recognize most of the books, the titles unfamiliar. The clothes also seem foreign, tinged with bitter cigarette smoke. She never did approve of that habit, and she frowns as she piles the different articles around her. And yet…underneath the acrid smell, it still smells like her boy.

One of the bulkier items is a fur-lined coat, something for the winter months. She sees the way the girl’s fingertips brush over the collar, how her eyes become weighted with melancholy.

“You can keep it.”

“Eh?” Tsunemori looks up at her, startled.

“I can’t keep everything in my place, and besides, you were his boss. Thank you for looking after my son.”

Tsunemori murmurs a half-hearted protest, but she folds the jacket in her lap. It goes with her when she leaves, and Tomoyo assumes that’s the end.

***

But it isn’t. Tsunemori continues to visit, every month or so. Each time is fairly short, enough to drink tea or coffee together. She’s a sweet young lady, unfailingly polite and conversational. They talk about nonconsequential things. The weather, novels, cooking tips. The latter proves to be a bountiful topic, since Tsunemori is inexperienced.

Once, Tomoyo asks about her work. She’s curious if anything’s changed since Shinya was an Inspector. It really hasn’t, and it doesn’t surprise Tomoyo, yet she can’t help but feel disappointed.

In turn, she describes a little of her job, that she analyzes data sent from the local hospital. The majority of her work is remote. She does not share why, though she’s certain Tsunemori can guess. Although the Sybil System can insist it only punishes criminals, family inevitably suffers too. They are carriers of some insidious factor or ticking bombs of the same defective nature but with longer fuses.

Tsunemori also doesn’t ask, though she receives an interrupting message. “Something just came up. I’ll see you later…Kougami-san.” It’s not the first time she’s hesitated addressing Tomoyo.

“Please, ‘Tomoyo-san’ is fine.”

She visibly relaxes. “Then, you can use my name too. It’s Akane.”

“Akane-chan it is.” And for the first time in a while, her smile feels natural.

***

On a rare night, she wakes up crying.

Hoshiko, dimmer in night mode, hovers over her. “Your Hue is Aquamarine. Would you like mental care?”

“This is my mental care. Tears are like stagnant water; sometimes, they need to flow out to feel better.” Satoru told her that once. She couldn’t remember where he read it from, but in moments like now, she could easily recall his voice. “And tears tire me out, I’ll go to sleep soon.” She forcibly shuts the AI down and dabs at her swollen eyes.

It takes an hour, but she does fall asleep again. In the morning, she dusts Shinya’s old room.

***

On her visits, Akane offers to help around the house, but she insists that the younger woman sit and relax.

“It’s enough that you keep an old lady like me company.”

“You’re not so old, Tomoyo-san.”

She gives Akane a flat stare. “But you must have friends your age, or a boyfriend or a girlfriend.”

“I do have friends, we meet up sometimes. As for a boyfriend, I’m too busy for one.” She pauses. “I hope your husband doesn’t mind me intruding.”

She’s perplexed for a moment before she remembers the steel band on her finger. “Oh, this isn’t a wedding ring.” Out of habit, she gives it a twist. “It’s an old gift from Shinya’s father, Satoru. We grew up on the same street, although he was ahead of me by two years. He helped me in my literature classes. Shinya has his father’s scholarliness. Always reading, always thinking inward.” She remembers glancing up from her essays, light pouring from her childhood bedroom window, to steal looks at Satoru’s thoughtful profile.

“It sounds like you still think highly of him.” Akane carefully says.

“I always will. When I was young, they had just introduced the compatibility matches. Satoru and I were a good match, but he had a better one with someone else. A rich girl, in the city across the lake. He left by boat to speak to the family in person, to explain that he couldn’t accept, but there was a bad storm. He drowned.”

There had been an investigation, a pair of detectives who had questioned her. In hindsight, they were very kind to her, but she was aggravated and terse and though she didn’t know it at the time, hormonal.

“You must have been very upset.” Akane softly says.

“My Psycho-Pass was…volatile. Crime Coefficients were not available then, and I’m not sure what mine would have been. But after I found out I was pregnant, I committed myself to living for the child.”

Her son was born in the dark, cold, early time before sunrise. Towards the end of her labor, she had been so exhausted, it took effort to breathe. Her eyelids felt weighted when the doctor urged her to see her baby. One look upon Shinya’s squalling little face, and she was no longer tired.

“My parents helped before they passed. Satoru’s family had pushed him to accept the other woman, so we weren’t close. But they sent money to Shinya, at least until he was an adult.” They cut off ties completely after his Hue clouded. “And now, he has no one, wherever he is.”

Tsunemori’s expression is troubled, but she doesn’t speak.

It’s been one year since her son vanished into the outside world. She wonders if he’s eating enough.

***

She dreams of traversing her high school’s corridors. She doesn’t know why she’s here. The faces of long-gone teachers and classmates blur around her. She has to leave, she can’t stay, though she doesn’t know why. She decides that it’s because Satoru isn’t here. The hallways seem so much longer, and the stairs widen at an exaggerated angle. Other students crowd around her, and it’s agonizing to finally reach the exit at the ground floor.

She opens the door, and runs headlong into the rehabilitation facility’s visiting area, almost colliding against the glass screen that separates her from her boy. Shinya’s in white robes, his face gaunt and unshaven. When he looks up at her, his eyes are shadowed from lack of sleep. His darkened Hue floats above his head, and she relives this memory, the dread of learning her son’s become a latent criminal.

He smiles at her in recognition, but it quickly turns bitter. “Sorry, Mama.”

***

“Your Hue is very clear. That’s quite surprising. Most parents in your situation fare worse.” Her therapist marvels.

“I do what I can. I get by.”

“Well, I think you can excel in group therapy.” A short explanation follows. “The advantages are well-documented. I believe you’d be a good addition. You can take your time to think it over.”

She’s given a pamphlet, which she pockets and leaves on her kitchen table. It stays there while she’s eating. This time last year, she would have thrown it away by now. She’s been self-sufficient for so long, it’s become her gut instinct to reject anything that disrupted her carefully crafted solitude. However…Akane’s presence has reminded her it could be pleasant to talk to other people. Healing.

She’ll go once, and then she can reevaluate if she needs to. After dinner, she has Hoshiko add group therapy to her schedule.

***

“You smell like cigarettes.” Tomoyo points out. “Have you picked up smoking?”

“Not exactly.” Akane looks embarrassed. “I just light them and leave them on an ashtray.”

“Secondhand smoke is still dangerous.”

“It isn’t too often. Only to help me think.” The connection to Shinya is blatantly obvious. Not for the first time, Tomoyo wonders what their relationship was. From what she recalled, Shinya had thought well of Akane; he had said she had an optimistic perspective and a detective’s instincts. Once, he mentioned she was kind. That was high praise from him. Tomoyo couldn’t forget it.

“I didn’t like it when Shinya started and I still don’t.” She bluntly says. “But as long as you’re careful, I won’t say any more.”

Akane nods. It’s not a promise to quit.

***

There’s a period of time when Akane doesn’t visit for three months. When she finally knocks on Tomoyo’s door, she’s welcomed with open arms.

“How are you doing, Akane-chan? I assumed your work was keeping you busy.”

“It was.” She stares blankly for a moment, before she crumples and begins to cry.

Immediately, Tomoyo helps her in and sits her down in the nearest chair. She grabs a tissue box and pushes it toward Akane, as she murmurs. “There, there. Take your time.”

Eventually, after a handful of wadded tissues, she’s able to speak. “…My grandmother passed away.”

“I’m sorry. You said you were close to her.”

She nods. “It was…very sudden.”

“Have you had mental care?”

“I have. My Hue’s alright. It still feels difficult though.” She looks so young, and Tomoyo remembers she’s only twenty-two.

“It might feel that way for a while, but it should pass. Your grandmother wouldn’t want you to suffer for her sake.” She reassures. She brings tea and water and crackers, while Akane recovers herself.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Any time.”

Before Akane leaves, she seems pensive, in the way a question is brewing in her mind. But she doesn’t, only reiterating her gratitude. Tomoyo suspects she was going to inquire about how she copes. In truth, she doesn’t have a definitive mechanism. Maybe, she’s just accustomed to carrying the pain, so tightly embedded in her Hue that not even Sybil can filter it out.

***

“Even artificial flowers brighten up the place, hm?” Tomoyo says out loud, as she arranges a vivid bouquet in a vase. There is no reply from the porch. Sae stares emptily into the distance, the wind ruffling her hair.

Now that Nobuchika-kun’s become an Enforcer, he reluctantly requested that should she happen to be near Okinawa, that Tomoyo visit his mother. “She always seems a little better after she’s had company.”

Tomoyo wasn’t confident, but she wasn’t in a position to judge and she trusts Nobuchika-kun. Her work had no issue with extending her trip by a day, since it was for mental care. Well, she never said who it was for, but as long as it was to help someone else, she had no qualms about bending the truth.

Satisfied with her work, she steps out into the fresh air. She adjusts the blanket over the woman’s lap, though it’s hard to tell if she’s comfortable. A set of beautifully crafted chimes sways and emits a haunting melody. Sae doesn’t react, and Tomoyo feels an irrational anger. They’re not alike at all. She could never imagine being in such a state, she’d rather be dead. But it wasn’t Sae’s fault either. The other woman never asked to be like this, not her or the other eustress victims.

Tomoyo sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m not a very good companion. But…we do have something in common. We’re among the countless women in history who were left behind by the men we love.” Akane’s face also pops into her mind.

Movement in her peripheral vision draws her attention. Sae’s lips purse, as if she’s about to speak. But her expression relaxes again into a blank slate.

Her hands itch with the need to do something useful, so Tomoyo takes hold of Sae’s wheelchair. “Let’s go for a stroll. The weather’s so nice, isn’t it?”

At the end of the day, she tucks Sae into bed. The woman falls asleep almost instantly, like a child. Tomoyo leaves her be, with the drones to care for her.

***

“I met him in Shamballa.”

Tomoyo’s throat goes dry, as emotion floods over her. “How is he?”

Akane smiles. “He’s well. He’s alive and intact, the last time I saw him. He’s on the move, helping people. I told him I visit you, and he said thank you. And that you never show any weakness.”

Shinya’s alive. Four long years, and finally, she has something to hold onto. “As long as he’s still breathing, that’s enough for me.”

“I thought you would say that.” Her good humor slips. “I wasn’t able to bring him back though.”

She reaches out, to reassuringly pat Akane’s back. “To be honest with you, that might be for the best. As much as I want to see him, his Psycho-Pass…”

“I know. I just wish there was a way. And now that I’ve met him again, I don’t think I can give up. I’ll keep trying, Tomoyo-san.”

A thank you pales in comparison to the intensity of her determination, so Tomoyo bows her head. “I believe you can. In the meantime, we’ll wait. We’ve already done plenty of that, haven’t we?”

“Yes.” Akane agrees. “But I hope not for too much longer.”

***

Her son is home.

He’s more solid now, but his face hasn’t really changed. Her nose wrinkles at the tobacco clinging to his clothes; she hugs him tightly anyway.

“Hi, Mama.” He says, and she fights back tears. She won’t cry in front of him, or Akane, or their friends looking on. And definitely not out in a driveway. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone.”

“I’m just glad you’re here.” She answers, ignoring her clogged sinuses. “And I haven’t been alone, not in a long time. Akane-chan’s been visiting me.”

“Akane-chan?” He repeats. His eyes dart to Akane, brows lifting. “That’s funny, I didn’t hear about that either.”

“Well, now you know.” She beams. “Come inside, Tomoyo-san.”

As he takes her jacket, Shinya mutters. “She calls you ‘Tomoyo-san’, Mama.”

“And?”

“I don’t get that same treatment.”

“If it upsets you, you should do something about it.” She dryly responds. Her son’s unamused expression makes her laugh, and she pats his cheek as she heads for Akane’s living room.

There’s a pair of women who she’s met today, sitting on the opposite couch. They’re friendly enough but she’s most familiar with Nobuchika-kun, who strikes up a conversation with her. His countenance lightens every time she sees him. He’s changed very much since his school days with Shinya, and she’s as proud of him as if he were her own.

She’s happy. Truly, unbelievably happy.

In the kitchen, Akane is making coffee for everyone, and Shinya’s stepped over to help her out. She’s never seen them together before, and now that she has, it’s like they’re tethered by a gravitational pull. It stirs the romantic in her to life after so long.

It is also the last time they meet for many months.

***

In the ensuing whirlwind of events, Tomoyo does her best to occupy herself. Group therapy has helped in that regard. She’s taken more of a mediating position as of late. It’s not long before an unfamiliar couple joins the monthly session. They introduce themselves with the name Tsunemori, and Tomoyo maintains a stoic expression. She treats them neutrally, trying to parse them out. They’re about what she expected: subdued and fearful of uncertainty, especially with regards to Akane.

Afterwards, she takes her time putting on her coat, watching everyone else walk out. When the Tsunemoris emerge, she strides a little ahead, so she can turn to them and speak.

“Your daughter’s strong. Have faith in her.” They blink at her in confusion, but she continues. “She’s helped me so much. If you have time, would you like to have tea?”

***

She calls him after washing her breakfast dishes. “Today’s the day, right?”

“Yeah, finally.”

She can hear the restrained impatience in Shinya’s voice and smiles. “Is your car clean?”

“Mama.”

“I don’t want Akane-chan to be driven out of that place in a dirty car.”

“Of course not. Don’t worry.” He grumbles.

“Well, I do. She’s like the daughter I don’t have.”

“…working on it.”

“What was that?” Of course, she knew what he said, but she wanted to hear him say it clearer.

“Nothing. We’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

She purses her lips. “We’ll talk more then. Have fun, be safe.”

He sighs, but his reply is fond. “Alright. See you later.” The call ends.

Hoshiko announces her Hue for the day. “Powder blue! Would you like me to pull up your shopping list?”

“In fifteen minutes. Thank you.” The starfish blinks out and she exhales. She’s alone, but not for long. She finishes her coffee with a smile.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

His Blood Runs Gold I

Percy is a God: Part I

Masterlist for the next part and more of my stuff

Y’all already know what this is!!!!!!!! But if you don’t then click this to find out. And i hope you enjoy Percy as a god cause i definitely do ;) *shivers*

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

We were warm and shivering,

and young and ancient,

and alive.

-We Were Liars, E. Lockhart

Time is non-existent anymore. Percy should be twenty this year but now that he has ichor flowing through his veins, he can be 102 or 5. He has done things Homer would write epic poems about. If he were around at the dawn of time Ovid would have happily dedicated the Metamorphoses to him. But today Percy Jackson has been a god for three years and he has never felt more mortal in his life.

“Percy my boy, what are you doing here?”

“Hello Father, Camp Half-Blood is throwing a campfire in my honour and I thought it’d be rude not to show my face.”

“Very noble of you son. I remember back in my day the Greeks–“

Percy zoned out, tired of hearing how people bowed down to all these stuffy Olympians. The camp threw a celebration every year on the day he got immortalized and in return he reinforced the borders and blessed every demigod before they leave at the end of summer. He doesn’t know if he’s doing a good job, he doesn’t even know if what he does is making a difference, but he doesn’t know how else to give back to the camp and the people that saved his life again and again; who loved him and fought next to him and oh gods followed him into battle.

He’s never had the chance to talk to Chiron, who’s always busy with this demi-god and that satyr, and this nymph. He barely gets the chance to talk to all his old friends– between the new campers wanting to hear his stories and the general chaos of end of summer camp-life. He thanked the powers that be–what a jarring thought that he was one of those powers now– that he managed to find days in-between to see Annabeth and Grover.

He smiled to himself as he remembered the last time he saw Annabeth. She had been moving into her own apartment to start her third year at the University of New Rome. To his unsurprised delight she had chosen archaeology as her major but somehow slipped Latin and Ancient Histories into her schedule. He had helped carry bags and bags filled with books up to her room and they spent the day setting her up and making sure everything was in its place before she started the year.

Their relationship had progressed so softly, so slowly, Percy sometimes felt like he had imagined the year they had as a romantic couple. After he became a god they managed to go on a few dates, some interrupted by hothead immortals and revengeful monsters, and some blissfully alone. But once Annabeth started university and Percy was called again and again to help with this problem and that, it became a hassle to set up dates and figure out when to meet. They didn’t grow apart, so much as grow between. And although he missed the softness of Annabeth, he had gained a friend who knew him more deeply than any being alive– he was eternally grateful for that, and he couldn’t hate what they lost out on.

“Son, are you listening?” Poseidon pulled him from his thoughts.

“Yes father, it really was a great time for you. I have to go now, but Iris message if you need me.” And without waiting for a reply Percy strode out of Olympus and into the streets below.

He considered snagging a car but decided against it, since you couldn’t very well drive into Camp Half-Blood. Instead he walked into the ocean and let the current take him all the way to Long-Island, till he could smell the strawberries on the ocean wind and hear the echoes of camp games and reedpipes.

He stepped onto the beach, loving the soft sinking impressions he made in the sand. After his blood turned gold he realized he could walk on the sand and make no footprints whatsoever. The idea scared him so much he sunk under water and cried for three hours. How could he leave nothing behind? How could he have no imprint? It was Tyson, riding on his rainbow hippocampi who found him and showed him how to balance his weight; showed him how to step into the sand and not on it. When his footprints reappeared once more, he hugged his brother so hard if Tyson weren’t a cyclops his ribs might have cracked.

So Percy walked up the beach and through the strawberry fields, taking the time to breathe in the forest air, the fruit breezes, and ah the smell of chaos.

“JACKSON!” Connor Stoll yelled.

And with that single announcement Percy was home.

The day was spent in good spirits: racing with various campers up the wall and avoiding every deadly thing it spat at you– even if he couldn’t really die; then eating in the dining hall and getting to travel between tables without getting glares from various houses or Chiron; laughing as all the food turned blue just for him.

When it was time Percy walked with some of his friends; Clarisse who grew to be a steady, if raging fire, by his side, and Connor Stoll who is now the oldest of the Hermes kids since Travis left for college, and of course Will who above everyone reserves the right to make sure his friends were protected.

In a moment of vulnerability, he broke down on Percy’s immortal shoulder and wept. I don’t want to bury anymore of my friends Percy. I don’t want to be tending to them as they die in my infirmary. I can’t do it anymore. For him, Percy double, sometimes in moments of obsessiveness, triple checked his border defenses.

Now the little group walks around the perimeter of the camp and talks softly and contentedly as Percy knocks against the shimmering force, leaking power into the hollow spots.

“How is everyone at camp?” He asked.

“Fine, nothing has changed much. Ever since the Giant War it feels as if everything has calmed down to a lull. I’m wary it’s the eye before the storm but gods-dammit we deserve a break.” Connor answered.

Percy hid the rage of that truth but let the ache of those words settle in his bones. He simply nodded at Connor and turned to Clarisse.

“Are there any new campers who need to be protected?”

“Only a few, a lot have moved to New Rome over the last years.” There was a bitter edge to her words, caused by the sting of loss.

“You cannot blame them for wanting a life that is not concentrated to three months of safety.”

“I know,” Her nostrils flared, she kicked the rock in front of her. “I know. It just sucks that there’s so few of us now.”

“Maybe we can see about hosting annual games at each camp over the summer?” He suggested, careful to not step where the cracks spidered underneath him– even if the labyrinth had collapsed there was still the chance something tunneled beneath.

“I think that’s a great idea.” Will piped up, “Maybe then I can convince Nico to stay for more than one week.” He rolled his eyes, but the glimmer of happiness in them gave away his annoyed pretense.

“I will talk to the Praetors over there and let you know.”

“Thank you, Percy.”

They turned to face him.

He stared at them for a moment, studying their faces. Even now, all these years later it was jarring to see the signs of growth in their make-ups. He couldn’t say aging, they were barely hitting their twenties, gods Will was still a teenager, albeit not for much longer; but it was weird to watch as they grew up, watch as time changed their features, changed them.

Clarisse, who used to be a spitfire of rage and fierce protectiveness was now, more a well-kept hearth. She was still full of flame, but it was contained, and her fierce was warm instead of scorching.

And Connor, who had been attached to his brother at the hip, was all grown up. Travis was three years into a degree and Connor, although a prospective honours student, had forfeited college until he could figure out what he wanted to do. He was the sole head of the Hermes cabin, but somehow, he kept up the mischief as if the two were still together. The shenanigans are some of Percy’s favourites to hear around the campfire.

And Will, who is dating Nico di Angelo. The two were often running between the camps, though Nico more than the child of Apollo. It was Will, Percy thought, who brought the camp together, more than anyone. And Will, who in the process had lost the most. For him, Percy would continue to be here every year, would continue to help if they called when they were in trouble. Because he too was tired of seeing his friends die. Tired of seeing his friends mourn.

“It’s almost time for me to go but I wanted to say,” He fought to choke back the rising wave of emotions, “I wanted to say thank you. For keeping my home safe. And thank you for being my friends.”

Their hug lasted many moments, ribbons of friendship passing between them. And when Percy walked back into the sea, he was glad no-one could tell the difference between tears and ocean.

Friends, the word echoed in his head. So few and far between since he became a God. It was not that people feared him, they just became… wary. They fell into that space in-between, where one wrong move could plunge them into fear. When he first turned divine, he counted on his fingers how many friends he had, and if he didn’t have enough digits, he deemed it a good day. Now he can count with aching clarity all the people who loved him, and still have fingers to spare.

Annabeth asked him once if he regretted taking up Zeus’ offer, if he regretted turning his red blood gold.

He hadn’t answered her till three weeks later, over a three am phone call.

I don’t regret it, he had said, because I know I can help this way. I know I can protect my family and friends better this way. And when the phone had gone dark, he had whispered into the void of his room– an alcove of coral far, far, far underwater– I don’t regret it, but I’m so lonely. The tears at that admission did not stop flowing for many hours.

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

Tags (If you want to be added to the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open):

@thepersonyourparentswishyouwere

@lesbian-peanuts

How are you feeling?? Cause i got 6K words for this fic and i don’t see myself stopping any time soon. Give me your thoughts young ones!!!!

[thehopeofitalll]

2. enchanted.

THEY MEET! THEY MEET! anyways...just a suggestion, but you should probably listen to taylor swift's "enchanted" because, well it's an amazing song, what more can i say?

read it on ao3.

~

“Look who’s here!” Thalia said, grinning. “My…” She drummed her fingers against the table, making up for an imaginary drum roll, as a figure walked towards Annabeth, Jason and Thalia.

“...girlfriend!” Thalia finished, a rare smile on her face that she always showed to her aforementioned girlfriend.

“Reyna!” Annabeth exclaimed, smiling as she stood up to hug her friend. “You’re back? I thought you said it’d take you a few more months!”

“As you know,” Reyna began in a horrible imitation of a British accent, struggling to hold back her grin. “I am very well versed in the art of lying.”

“One of the truest things you’ve said in, like, your entire life I think,” Thalia added, getting a playful punch from her girlfriend.

“Still know how to be a badass, Chase?” Reyna asked, raising an eyebrow.

Annabeth smirked. “You should have figured that being a badass has been in my blood since I was born,” She replied.

“Maybe I could race you,” pondered Reyna. “It’d be fun to see you lose.”

“Hey! That’s not fair,” Annabeth muttered, folding her arms. “You’ve literally got a sports scholarship based on your running, and I bet you’ve practiced a lot all the way back in Berkeley.”

Reyna shrugged. “Yeah, you'd lose either way. So, it’s been a few years since we’ve seen each other and things have certainly changed. Someone’s got a little famous.”

“All because of her wonderful manager,” Thalia said, proudly.

“Oh shush,” Annabeth said, folding her arms. “Also, Thalia, about the whole getting-away-from-the-world-for-a-few-hours thing, I’m planning on sneaking away to Coney Island.”

“Coney Island?”

“Hey, I’ve wanted to go see it for a long time now, and this might be the perfect opportunity,” Annabeth reasoned.

“But so many people there could see you!” Thalia argued. “Like, thousands! It isn’t exactly the most secluded place for someone who wants to be anonymous and all that shit.”

“Relax, you know how good I am at disguising myself. I promise not to let the paparazzi get a hold of me. Okay?” Annabeth asked.

Thalia hesitated, then sighed. “Well…” she began. “Okay, fine. But you better be careful, young lady.”

“Yes, mom,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes in Classic Annabeth Style, her voice dry with irony.

Usually it was Annabeth who was called “The Mom Friend” of the group (though she preferred to be the one who always advises her friends to not do the dumb shit they eventually end up doing. It wasn’t her fault she was the only one who had common sense).

“So?” Annabeth asked. “What’s the schedule for today?”

“Well, I’ve managed to give you around roughly two to three hours of free time, but besides that we’ve got the usual shooting. Thankfully, I think you have only a few scenes today, and I’m guessing the other stars are shooting most of their scenes today,” Thalia said, whipping out her clipboard.

“Fun.”

—🎡—

“Late to work again, Perry Johansson?” Mr. D exclaimed, with a groan.

“Sorry, Mr. D!” Percy said, sheepishly. He’d thought it was a Sunday morning, pressed the snooze button on his alarm five times and was late to the cafe for work. “Won’t happen again!”

“That’s what you told a week back!”

“Rough morning, huh?” Percy’s best friend, Piper McLean, asked, her eyes surveying his more-dishevelled-than-usual hair.

“That would be an understatement,” Percy replied, groaning.

“Nightmares?” Piper asked.

He nodded, as she gave him a sympathetic look.

It was common knowledge to all of his friends that he had nightmares, caused by his abusive past. Sometimes he woke up, sweating, his throat sore after yelling in his sleep. When he stayed with his mom, and his stepdad, she would usually rush into the room as soon as the screaming began. But once he moved out, he learnt to calm himself down. It didn’t help though, he found himself having panic attacks while thrashing around in his bed.

“And, hm, let me guess,” Piper began, feigning to be in deep thought. “You stayed up all night painting?”

He rolled his eyes, confirming that she was correct. “The nightmares were getting too much for me,” he mumbled.

Piper nodded, staying silent. She, and all of his friends, knew about his past. It wasn’t exactly easy to hide the long scar that ran down your back, when you were the captain of your swim team back at school.

“Well,” he said, drawing out the l. “How are things with Jason? Didn’t you tell me that you started dating?”

“Yeah…” Piper smiled. “He’s amazing, Percy. He cares a lot about me. I think he’s...perfect.”

He grinned. “Well, years of screaming at both of you to date each other finally paid off,” he said.

“Yes, Jackson, I truly appreciate it,” Piper said sarcastically. She turned around to greet the customer who had just come in, with a perfect smile on her face. “Hello and welcome to Olympus!”

Percy pulled out his phone, scrolling through his nearly non-existent proof of his social life, not really paying attention. He eyed a few messages from his cousin, Thalia Grace, planning to reply to it later, when a single word caught his eyes:

Annabeth.

Wait, what about Annabeth? he typed back hurriedly, fixing the typos that came along the way.

She replied almost immediately.

Knew that would catch your eyes, Kelp Head. - Pinecone Face

He let out a soft huff, but grinning affectionately nevertheless. He could literally hear the smirk in her message.

We’ve talked about this, Thalia. But what did she say?

Don’t worry, she didn’t say anything. I just mentioned her while reminding you about how dad wants you to come to dinner. And I know you well enough to figure out that you’d never check a message the first time you see it, unless it mentioned someone like, you know, Annabeth. - Pinecone Face.

You’re an asshole, Thals.

I know right! It’s one of the many things I’m good at, thinking of adding it to my resume~ - Pinecone Face.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His eyes were trained on his phone as Thalia continued to be typing something more.

Don’t forget about the dinner! Dad specifically requested that you and Nico must be there, or something. - Pinecone Face.

He was going to type back a quick yeah, okay and head back to the front, where Piper was greeting customers, when another message from Thalia popped up.

Hey, if you’re lucky, we might even run into Annabeth ;) - Pinecone Face

Not the winky face, he replied, unable to stop the grin from coming on his face.

—🎡—

There I was again tonight forcing laughter, faking smiles Same old tired, lonely place Walls of insincerity Shifting eyes and vacancy vanished when I saw your face All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you. —🎡—

Percy yelled, “I’m leaving as soon as I finish three more orders, you hear me?”

“I hear you, alright!” Piper yelled back, as she picked up her phone and walked towards him.

“I honestly wonder why I’m such a good friend,” Percy said, leaning against the counter. “Why am I always the one who covers the last 15 minutes of his friend’s shift?”

“Because you love me, and think I’m the most amazing person to ever walk on earth,” Piper replied, grinning proudly, as she flicked her dark brown hair over her shoulder.

“Of course I do,” Percy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, go meet Mr. Loverboy.”

“And you?” Piper asked. “What are you gonna be doing this evening?”

“Visiting the Ferris wheel in Coney Island,” Percy replied.

“Again?” Piper asked. “You were there, like, three weeks back. You need to get a social life, Perce.”

“Mm, I was just planning on spending my life with blue cookies,” he said. “And, it isn’t a waste of time. I learn more about landscapes and silhouettes, you know.”

“Ah yes, painting stuff,” Piper summed up. “Honestly, I don’t understand you at times, and we’ve been friends for so long.”

“I’m an artiste, Pipes,” Percy replied, grinning, with a terrible French accent on the artiste.

“Mhm, sure,” Piper mumbled. “Okay, don’t mess up the rest of the orders. I’ll see you soon.”

As Piper made her way out of the shop, Percy sighed. While he lazily waited for someone new to come in, he found himself bored, again.

He could blame his restlessness on his ADHD but in reality he never wanted to work here, he just needed some money while he struggled with becoming a popular artist, and he had to work here until the aquarium nearby finally accepted his resume. Then he’d be out of here.

He was tired. Tired of faking smiles, tired of seeing people bustling around in here, tired of vacant spaces. He couldn’t wait to leave this place behind him.

While he ruminated about this, another customer walked in, wearing a dark blue hoodie, with the hood pulled all the way down to their nose.

Percy stifled a groan and took his place at the counter. “Hey, welcome to Olympus Cafe. What would you like today?”

“One Chocolate Creme Frappuccino, please,” came the woman’s voice. He nodded, slightly pleased that he wasn’t the only one in the world who liked that drink off their menu.

He went inside to prepare her drink. When he came back, she was resting her head on her palm. “Name?” he asked.

“Oh? Uh, Annabe-Annabel,” she replied, stuttering a little bit.

He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question her. Writing Annabel on the cup, he pushed a straw in her drink. “That’ll be $4.95,” he said.

She nodded, reaching to her pocket. Percy always hated this part of delivering an order: that awkward silence while the customer got out their money.

He looked at the woman before him, as she fumbled around while bringing out her wallet. He could barely see her, but she had tan skin and maybe he caught a few wisps of golden hair. A five dollar bill fell out of her wallet, floating towards the ground.

“Shit,” she muttered.

Percy tried to hide a smile at that. He didn’t know why a random woman before him mumbling profanities was amusing to him. She bent down to pick up the dollar, and when she stood up her hood had fallen. Percy looked at her, then suddenly stopped fidgeting around.

Was it…? It was.

He knew how she looked from their time in high school. Stormy grey eyes. Honey blonde hair. He definitely knew her, knew her all too well.

She quickly pushed the bill towards him, and pulled her hood back up. A faint flicker of recognition passed through those intimidating eyes, as he took the dollar.

He picked up the cup, and handed it to her. She reached out for the cup, her fingers slightly brushing against his. A little spark seemed to drive up his arm, and despite himself, he grinned goofily.

“It was enchanting to meet you,” He said, then winked at her.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, a faint blush of red coating her cheeks nevertheless. “That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said, her voice low.

He continued to grin as she looked up, sea green eyes meeting grey, then turned around to leave the shop. There was no mistake about it. It was her. Annabeth.

Annabeth Chase.

[oureuphoria]

Worst of You - JJK 05

You meet him under horrible circumstances but that doesn’t stop you from developing a very abnormal and completely unsolicited crush on your local hot police officer™. Too bad you have a bitch of a best friend, anxiety and an inability to learn from your mistakes which cripples your chances to be with the man of your literal dreams. Oh, and he has a lifetime’s worth of emotional baggage at 23.

Or

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” “Cool, I’ll let everyone know that you’re moving in then.”

Genre: fluff, angst, comedy

Pairing: officer!jungkook X  collegestudent!reader

Word count: 2,521

Note: If you don’t imagine that vine of the kid taking a sip of his mother alcohol when Y/N takes a sip of the wine then I will be very disappointed. 

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 |

It was 3:15 and Jungkook was nowhere to be seen. You decided to play a game to distract yourself but you (ironically) lost track of time prompting you to completely miss Jungkook’s arrival which prompted him to watch you curse at geometry dash for a good 7 minutes. He cleared his throat to get your attention which startled you, enough so to have you fumble your phone to the ground with a loud bang that had a couple of people looking your way.

“So, where’s my congratulations cake?” You asked while simultaneously checking your phone for blemishes. Fortunately, the screen wasn’t cracked, unlike your cool moments ago. “The best I can do is a muffin, take it or leave it.” You giggled in response but the sound mellowed down into a soft silence. It wasn’t awkward at first but you quickly got fidgety under his stare.

“So I needed at least 90% to maintain my 4.0 GPA but I got 89.9% and my professor refuses to round it. Can you arrest him for that?” The question may have sounded playful but you were in no way kidding. One more slip up and you could kiss your scholarship goodbye. “No. Y/N, 89% is great, don’t stress.” You nodded with a forced smile that Jungkook hadn’t noticed (or if he did, he didn’t comment on it) and for that you were grateful.

“Look, I know this is kind of sudden but I need a favour?” You hummed in reply, gesturing for him to continue. “Do you think you could baby sit my kids.” You dropped your phone again in shock and Jungkook facepalmed in shame. “My brother’s kids! Not mine, I don’t have kids.” He reached for your phone while you did and your hands touched for what could be described as a split second. You - being the melodramatic pre-teen that you are - had to suppress the urge to squeal at the very minor touch.

“How old are they?” You loved kids (aged 3-9) but babies scared you and you wanted absolutely nothing to do with them. “My niece is 7 and my nephew is 4.” “I can babysit them but are you sure your brother won’t mind?” Jungkook winced at the mention of his brother. He was quiet for a moment before he started shaking his head disapprovingly. “We just won’t tell him.” His fear was almost comical and you would’ve laughed if you weren’t afraid the sound would break him.

“They’ll be in good hands. Trust me.” And he did, he just hoped his older brother would too. “So, when am I babysitting them?” “This Friday, if that’s okay? They’re staying with me for the weekend but I have a work dinner scheduled that night so if you could occupy them from around 6-10 that’d be great.” You gave him a thumbs up in approval, mouth full of strawberry cheesecake. “Thank’s Y/N. I owe you.”  

You didn’t mean to leave your roommate in the dark about the two children that would be occupying your dorm for a few hours but the entire ordeal slipped your mind. In fact, when Jungkook showed up on Friday, you had been completely unprepared. “Oh, hello…” You waved at the kids who moved to hide behind their uncles legs - an act you remember doing before you were too big to hide behind people. Once your eyes had trailed down though, your focus shifted to Jungkook’s gorgeous thighs and your thoughts took a sharp 180. He was clad in black trousers and a slightly unbuttoned dress shirt and to say you weren’t practically drooling over him would be a lie.

“Okay, Luna take care of your brother. Alan, don’t break anything.” He lectured them cutely and you wondered how he ever managed to yell at hardened criminals with that soft face but you’d seen him mad and he definitely wasn’t a force to be reckoned with. The children nodded dutifully and you couldn’t help but smile. They were so small and cute and you were quickly finding yourself becoming quite excited to hang out with them.

“They both haven’t had dinner yet but you can feed them anything, Luna is really well behaved but she can be a bit sassy. Alan has an issue with grabbing random things but if he gets too out of hand just give him his iPad in his bag, he’ll know what to do. Okay, thank you so much. I have to go, bye!” Jungkook spoke so fast that you almost questioned if he spoke at all. You turned to the kids with a sheepish smile and a simple question to break the tension. “So, who want’s to play Just Dance?”

After a night of G-rated video games, McDonald’s and a very self-indulgent amount of baby Yoda, both kids were finally asleep on your couch and Alex had just gotten home. “Hey, who are the kids?” She quietly set her keys down before walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water, her eyes trained on the mini people draped over your couch. “They’re kids I’m babysitting; for a friend.” She nodded absentmindedly and you assumed from her quiet demeanour that something was off. You decided to ignore it. “So, um, we have a dorm inspection in a month. You should probably clean your room.” She waved you off with a nod and a flick of the wrist while she made her way to her room. You sighed and looked at the sleeping kids. “She’s not going to clean her room is she?” You whispered to particularly no one.

It was around 11pm when Jungkook eventually showed up. He scooped both of the sleeping kids into his arms and bid you farewell without a second to spare. The apartment suddenly felt empty and a nagging headache began to become apparent.

You let yourself fall back onto the couch with a huff, this was the life you were destined for. You were everyone’s second choice. The back-up plan, the plan B. You were a constant in a world that was continuously changing and yet you weren’t even a good one. You couldn’t dwell over your uselessness for long though. You had a paper to write and feelings for Jungkook that you needed to get over.

Unfortunately for you, Alex was upset and when Alex is upset she does some pretty reckless things. Like, calling her ex-boyfriend, for example who is now not so quietly comforting her in the only way he knew how. The Jimin way that always - without fail - keeps you awake for far longer than you anticipated.

You walked into your morning class the following day with a giant cup of coffee and a pair of sunglasses to hide the pain that glowed in your baggy eyes. You couldn’t keep the glasses on during the class though and just as you took them off, Jimin rushed to make a snarky comment.

“You look like death today.” “I blame your high pitched moaning, daddy.” Jimin might’ve been aroused by your use of his (not-so) secret kink but you looked like you wanted him dead and the venom dripping from your voice proved it. “At least I’m getting laid.” You rolled your eyes and decided to not press further. The two of you could argue till the end of time and in that moment you just needed to focus until the end of the class.

After 96 dreadful minutes of your human anatomy teacher’s droning, you managed to make it out of the class alive but not without catching the attention of William who was now chasing you down no matter how hard you avoided his gaze. “Hey, Y/N.” You smiled forcefully and hoped that your exhausted exterior didn’t come off as bitchy - but that was a stretch. “The officer told me that the attacker had no motive for doing what they did, so don’t worry, they’re not out for you or anything.” William smiled, laughing a little at the joke you seriously didn’t mean to crack. Did you even make a joke? You needed sleep, and fast.

The rest of the day went pretty much the same. You continued plaguing your college campus like a cast member of the walking dead with barely any purpose and motivation. Because the world hated you, you didn’t get home until 6pm and your exhaustion pretty much decided you’d be skipping lunch and dinner for whatever semblance of sleep you could get.

You were in the midst of brushing your teeth through the dull ache of your tiredness (because dental hygiene is important, you’re not scared of the dentist), when there was a knock on your door. You assumed it was Alex who had a history for forgetting her keys but when you opened the door, clad in iron man themed pyjamas, you were met with Jungkook who was visibly, not Alex.

You might’ve asked something like why he was here or how he got through the building door but your toothbrush was still in your mouth and the situation was getting awkward. “Get dressed, I’m taking you to dinner.” You gave him a weird look as you held your hand out to ask him to wait. You rushed to the bathroom to finish brushing your teeth before returning to the door which Jungkook was leaning on to tell him, “but I brushed my teeth.”

Jungkook scoffed at your excuse with both astonishment and annoyance. “It’s 6pm.” He retorted while his eyes skimmed your very small dorm to sit on your even smaller chair. “I wasn’t planning on eating!” He waved you off before taking out his phone. “Go get dressed so I can repay you for the babysitting.” You gave him a small glare, although you were hungry, you were more tired and all you wanted to do was sleep. “Couldn’t you have just given me $20 like any other person?” Jungkook doesn’t move his stare off his phone while he replies. “Where’s the fun in that? Now go get changed.”

You stuck your tongue out at him (even though you knew he couldn’t see it) before stomping off to your room to change into something more appropriate. Judging by Jungkook’s choice of fancy attire, this was probably going to be some fancy restaurant where you couldn’t pronounce anything and everything cost more than your rent so you decided to wear a light pink dress. You didn’t spend that long getting ready, in fact 90% of the time you were trying to fit all of your necessities into a tiny (impractical) purse because it was the fanciest thing you owned.

“You seriously wore a dress with sneakers?” Sure, expecting a compliment or a simple wow, Y/N may have been a little delusional but you certainly were not expecting him to insult your precious pink Fila disruptors. You didn’t reply as you trudged behind him with a scowl on your face.

“Where are we going, anyway?” You asked with a voice laced with annoyance as you stepped into his terrifyingly fancy car. You didn’t even want to know how much that thing costs to insure. He didn’t answer your question which you found pretty rude but the glare on his face stifled any complaint you were going to make. You watched Jungkook drive which would’ve been a lot more innocent if he wasn’t smirking every 3 minutes and annoying you even more.

The entire drive was composed of awkward silence and unanswered questions before he eventually he pulled into  bright driveway before getting out handing his keys to the man who ran the valet service.

Wait, valet service?

“This looks expensive, honestly I would’ve been fine with the $20.” You whispered to Jungkook before you walked inside but all he did was chuckle. “Y/N, it’s fine, it’s just a restaurant.” That, was a blatant lie. It was one of the most renowned Italian restaurants in New York and it was incredibly hard to get into but of course you didn’t know that so you were up for a pleasant surprise once you opened the menu.

“Oh shit, this is no-price-on-the-menu fancy.” You whispered to no one in particular but Jungkook picked up on the incoherent sound. “What?” “Nothing!” You quickly squeaked out. You were not going to let a simple menu intimidate you. Unfortunately, the entire thing was in Italian and you failed all the language classes that you took in high school.

“Order whatever you want, yeah?” Jungkook was hoping you weren’t intimidated by the prices but unbeknownst to him, that was the last of your concerns. You nodded slowly; too focused on trying to comprehend what the menu said. “You know what, I’ll just get whatever you get.” Jungkook looked at you with masked concern that you wouldn’t have been able to notice if not for his revealing eyes.  “Why? Do you not like Italian?” “No, it’s not that. I just don’t know what’s good here so, I trust you.” You lied straight through your teeth with a cunning smile that even had you fooled. Jungkook nodded and didn’t say much more. “Well, I usually get the steak.” You could feel the panic settling in. You hated steak - with a passion.

“I lied, I don’t know how to read this menu at all.” You blurted out before he could call the waiter and braced yourself for his degrading laugh. He did laugh but you were thankful for his guidance after. He explained pretty much the entire menu to you before you decided on getting some kind of pasta.

After Jungkook had ordered, (you’d rather stay out ordering food unless it’s completely necessary) another waiter followed quickly after and asked if you wanted any wine. Jungkook nodded but the waiter assumed it was for the both of you so he poured you a glass as well. You watched Jungkook’s eyes widen in fear when he noticed but before he could say anything the waiter was on his way. You looked at the glass with obvious fascination that Jungkook was positive on shutting down.

“Y/N if you drink that I will literally arrest you right here." “Yikes, okay, I’m sorry.” Your apology was sarcastic but he relaxed nonetheless; a mistake, on his part, because you were immediately picking up the glass to take a sip anyway. “Y/N!” You didn’t hear Jungkook berating you over the deafening scream of your tongue as the disgusting liquid went down your throat. “That was horrible, how can you drink that?” You spoke through your coughing fit while Jungkook carefully removed the glass from your grasp, calling a waiter over to take it away and bring back a coke instead. “You’re an idiot and now a convicted felon.”

You gave him a sheepish smile in return. “I was curious…” He shook his head in disapproval but didn’t press further; he found it hard to stay angry at you. You spent the rest of the night trying to make him laugh with your really (subjectively) funny dad jokes. He didn’t laugh but you blamed it on his dead sense of humour which Jungkook thought was a reasonable excuse.

“Y/N.” You cocked your head up to look at him with a frustrated expression. Who knew pasta was so hard to eat? “What?” You tried to say though it came out muffled as you tried to eat. “It’s sad watching you eat.” “It’s not my fault the pasta is so slippery!” He grabbed the fork out of your hand and effortlessly spun the pasta around your fork. You scoffed in astonishment but Jungkook decided to ignore your frustration. “Open.” You felt like a toddler, Jungkook (a grown man) was feeding you (an allegedly grown woman) pasta because you couldn’t figure out how the mechanism worked.

After you finished eating, the room was engulfed with an awkward silence. The distant voices and the clatter of cutlery filled the void although it wasn’t nearly enough. “So, you up for dessert?” You shook your head quickly, you were so exhausted you could’ve sleep right on the uncomfortable chair. “I’m too full.” Jungkook nodded and asked a waiter for the bill. You curiously tried to take a peek at the total but Jungkook snatched the bill towards him before you had the chance. “Think of it as payment for taking care of my niece and nephew.” It seemed like a little too much for just babysitting but you knew there was no point in arguing with him.

The entire car ride was quiet. You were too busy trying to conjure up the courage to ask Jungkook out (properly) and Jungkook was too busy trying not to crash the car. The moment his car was in front of your building, you blurted out the question before you could stop yourself. “Jungkook, can I ask you a question?” He was a taken aback by the abrupt question but he nodded nonetheless.

“I um… I like you, a lot and I just don’t want to get my hopes up and expect anything from you because that’s unfair and of course I don’t expect anything now I just…” You trailed off once you realised you had been rambling but  Jungkook didn’t seem to notice. His expression seemed entirely indifferent and you wondered if you had even confessed at all.

The silence was getting incredibly uncomfortable so you tried to diffuse the situation you had unwillingly created. “It’s fine if you don’t! It’s just a crush. I’ll get over it eventually so really-” Halfway through your rambling, Jungkook crashed his lips onto yours and you froze. Now, you’ve been kissed before, but never like this and the lack of warning shocked you enough to have you accidentally bite the poor man’s lip. “Ow. What the fuck Y/N?” You began apologising profusely while he held his lip and though the mood was definitely ruined, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m sorry! Are you okay?" “I’m fine. Goodnight Y/N.” You were about to leave the car before you quickly turned around and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then you hurriedly screamed ‘thank you’ and sprinted into your dorm building. Jungkook drove away with his heart heavy and his mind racing. He may have just ruined his entire plan.You on the other hand just realised you never got an answer.

[ketsuyuki-hibana-typed]

Hello!!! May i request Genya x reader (Modern DomesticAU) , please????I need fluff for him after reading the scans (இдஇ; )

I NEED THIS TOO, GENYAAA BBY COME BAAAAACK (༎ຶ ෴ ༎ຶ)

Shinazugawa Genya x Reader (Modern DomesticAU)

Genya and you were in the same university, but he is a third year while you're second year.

He will gently wake you up by shaking your body. If you still not wake up, he pulled your body up slowly and made you sit.

"Wake up." He kissed your droll-covered cheek.

"Mm, morning." You hugged his neck, and put your head on his shoulder, grinned stupidly

"Morning." He smiled and kissed your top head.

Both of you went to bathroom together. Sometimes, you mistook his toothbrush as yours so he usually guided your hand to the right brush and put the toothpaste on top of it too.

"Sleepy..." You use his big arms as your pole, making him as your stand support.

"Me too, but we should hurry today." He wiped the rest of white bubble on your mouth

"Genya, your bedhead." You touched his hair. "Can I comb it?"

"We don't have-"

"Genyaaaa." You pulled and pushed his body.

"Ok, just this once."

"What do you mean just this once. I'm the one who made your hair everyday." You happily tidied up his mohawk hair while he sit down.

Genya helped almost everything with the breakfast.

"2 bacons, and scrambled egg." You murmured while putting them on the plate. "Should I cook for lunch too?"

"We can't make it on time." Genya drank his coffee.

"Oh, how about new ramen booth near uni? We could have lunch together there."

"Sure."

He made sure to look at today's forecast and brings umbrella even though it's sunny day before went out

Always prepared

The train to your uni always cramped at this hour so it's kind of impossible to have a seat.

Genya always drived you to the corner, and made you faced his inner big body, making sure you didn't fall if the train make a sudden movement. Or to prevent any inconvenience that could occurred.

Since you can't reach the ceilling-mounted handles, you hold his hanging arms like a koala

He had to endure this kind of cuteness everyday.

At university, both of you went to the separated class, promised each other to meet at lunch.

Your friends often asked how could you end up together.

"Please don't be mad, but your boyfriend's face is so scary, and those scars too. He looked like Yakuza. Are you sure he didn't-"

"Nope, he's not. He's a baby."

"What-"

You flung and slammed your textbooks onto your table.

"HE'S A BIG BABY." You let out dark aura emitting from your body and smiled to your friends

Your friends shivered and they swore they will never ask this again

Meanwhile, Genya's friends asked him about how he could get such a pretty girlfriend

"Well, I've been with her ever since middle school." Genya sat down. "So, it's not something new."

"But man, really, your girlfriend is such a feast." His friend suddenly popped out.

"... What do you mean."

"I mean bro, you got that delicious body! And the chest too, especially the thighs part. Damn, you're lucky bas-"

Genya suddenly stood up and pulled his collar shirt. His irk mark appeared.

"Once again disrespect her like that, I'll fucking rip your throat."

He shivered from head to toe. "So- Sorry."

This kind of shitty 'judge from the appearance' is always happening

Like, people often misunderstood him as your stalker or raper, because he always walked behind you and looked menacing towards you.

Sometimes, it made you pissed and it's often for you to yell, "LOOK CLOSELY! LOOK AT THIS BABY! DID HE LOOK LIKE HES A BAD GUY?! FUCKING CLEAN YOUR-"

"Okay, okay, stop, calm down." He pulled you out from that place while you continuingly threw profanity. He's the one who apologized to those people.

It drained both of your energy but luckily, supporting each other made you two stronger.

You usually had lunch with him.

Actually, both of you didn't really have time to meet each other on uni because of the tight schedule, so you really maximised and cherished your time with him on lunch.

"I heard these good for women." Genya picked up the bean sprouts from your bowl with his chopsticks.

You shook your head. "The idea of bean sprouts slowly caressing my throat made me want to puke."

"You really hate it huh." He patiently wiped your messy mouth.

On day off, there are no particular place you had to go on date. It's all spontaneously decided

Since it's always spontaneous, he likes to try new place or visiting some old place from your childhood

"Hey, you remember this place?" Genya showed you the map.

"Oh, I remembered. If I recalled, you confess to me here after our study tour. You suddenly doing Kabedon, shoving me flower you randomly picked up from parks and stuttered, saying that you like me."

"Right, I forgot that scene." He banged his head to nearest wall, preventing himself from dying of embarrassment

You probably went to make up section on mall and tried some lipstick, concealer, and perfume on his arms

The reason is simple, because he has long arm. There are so much space on that big arms and he never complained about it

He often used the blue cardigan you gave him on his birthday, especially when dating and eventually sad when he had to say goodbye to the cardigan because it's worn out

"I will buy you one again, so don't make that 'I wanna cry' face." You patted his head.

"But.. it's from you." He looked heartbroken when he put his favourite cardigan out from the wardrobe.

HNNGGGHHHHH STAHP

His brother, Sanemi, usually visited both of you on his day off. Nothing to do, just chillin there.

"You will be a great wife for Genya." He suddenly spouting out facts statement while sipping the juice you gave him

"E-Eh?" You slowly turned your head towards him while blushing, trying to not drop the glass on your hand

"ANIKI, WE RE NOT TALKING ABOUT IT RIGHT NOW." Genya dashed out from his room. Sanemi chuckled from both of your reaction

Since he got flustered easily, it's easy to tease him

You are always careless at home. He often finds you in ... Not so elegant state

You like to take a nap in the kotatsu, sometimes sleep while putting your head on the table, sometimes lying down with kotatsu as your blanket

Apparently, you unconsciously rolled your body out from the kotatsu

The view of you wearing tank top and short pants (which mean showing more skins) while letting your stomach half opened and almost reach your braless breast really tested him

Plus, you carelesely opened your leg wide too, with one hands up and one hand slipped inside your tank top on the breast part

Genya dropped his bag

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Hold on Genya! Hold your inner beast! Consent! Consent !!

But in the end, this good boi always covered you with blanket and put you properly on the bed.

Genya often spooning you, catches you and fully covered you with his body. In conclusion, he is the walking teddy bear.

Genya likes to bite your nape in random occasion, but mostly when you were cooking. When you asked why, he saw big cats on NatGeo did that and he thinks... It's just his instict to mark you

He always looked at good timing to kiss you. On the sofa, after wake up or when he spooning you with his big body while watching TV.

You already knew his 'Hey, can I kiss you?' gesture. He pulled you into his embrace, and rubbed his cheek onto yours. After that, he sticked his forehead onto yours and looked straight to your eyes.

You gave the permission sign with quick peck on his nose. He smiled and started to bring you into deep kiss.

Shopping for dinner isn't really part of your routines. Sometime you bought all of the ingredients or Genya shops alone. He will just took note from what you need on the food

Or takeouts. Definitely typical for busy university student.

But, bathing together is a must. He likes the skinship, or simply admiring your beautiful figure when you slowly showering yourself.

Sometimes, inside the bathtub, you purposely playing with his fingers and guided them to your lower part

"...please don't test me."

When you really tired and lazy to applied your skincare routine after bath, he's the one who took care of it.

"Hey, don't sleep yet. What comes after the toner?"

"Hngh.... Serum."

"Got it."

He divulged his problem and insecurity to you before sleep, with lower voice right on your ears, almost whispering

He often said that he probably lost you someday and he will never ready when it comes

You always soothing him when he became emotional like this. You assured him that he doesn't have to worry about you.

"I can't live without my big teddy bear." You chuckled while caressing his back. "So, it's impossible for me to leave you."

He didn't say anything but you already knew he didn't need further answer because he seems relaxed and didn't tense his muscle anymore.

He finally sleep in peace

You kissed his forehead and moved towards his chest, hugging him.

Yeah, there is no way you could leave this precious man alone

[pocketsizeddemon]

Cookies

Bang Chan x Reader fluff, 2.1k words, AO3

I was craving a friends-to-lovers Chan fluff so I wrote it.

You were one of Minho's oldest friends. He was the first friend you made when you moved to Korea. You lived in the same neighborhood, went to the same school up until some point, and you’ve been through thick and thin. Even though it was difficult to stay in touch during his trainee years, and even more now that he was actually an idol, you two still tried to make time for each other. He was literally like a little brother to you. Or more like the close cousin that you can be annoying with. A few months before his debut he was insisting that he wanted you to meet his members but both of your guys’ schedule was hectic, yours with university and work and his with promotions and practice and it never really happened until months later.

You still remember the day that Minho walked you into the chaos that was their dorm with a box full of donuts as a little treat for them. Eight cheerful boys running up to meet you and, of course, devour the donuts that you made for them. That was about a year ago. After all this time you were actually a regular at the SKZ dorms, you had become friends with all the boys and you bringing sweets for them regularly made you their number one guest of honor. Minho was often complaining that you had spoiled the maknae line rotten.

It was an evening like all else. Felix and Jisung were sitting on the couch playing games with Changbin watching them, Minho, Hyunjin and Seungmin were out for a walk, Jeongin was napping, Chan was in the studio and you and Woojin were chilling in the kitchen, having coffee and catching up. As you were talking, a fresh-out-of-bed Jeongin walked in the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, taking a detour to hug you when he noticed you.

“What did you bring us this time, noona?” He asked cheerfully.

“Oh? So I’m only good for bringing you guys sweets, hmm?” you teased him.

“No, no, no!!” he tried to explain himself. “It’s just that I was craving cookies.”

“Cookies?” you asked as you made a list in your head.

“Yes! Like the ones you brought us a few weeks ago, they were delicious. Channie-hyung and Han-hyung ate like half of them and we didn’t even get to enjoy them.” He pouted sadly.

“Well… I’m pretty sure we can make them!” you pondered and started listing the ingredients to Woojin, who in exchange nodded.

“We can do that?” Jeongin asked, full of shock.

“Who do you think has been making the sweets all this time?” Woojin answered as he pointed at you. “And yes Y/N, we have all the ingredients apart from chocolate chips. But I’m pretty sure Minho, Hyunjin and Seungmin will be back in a bit, so we can tell them to bring some on their way back.”

Five hours, and way too many cookie butter batches later, you were laying down on the couch, a blanket covered you as you tried to get comfy. It was around 8p.m. when you started with the cookies and now it was almost 1a.m. It was lovely to see the boys trying to help you cream the butter and sugar together and knead the dough, or seeing them argue on how much chocolate chips they should put in the mix. It was by far the slowest and funniest cookie making experience you’ve ever had. In the end, you had made a lot of cookies, though mostly they were gone in the next two hours as you watched a movie. You had insisted that they left a few of them for their leader, who would be sure to return later.

Naturally at the end of all this, it was too late to go home on your own, so you grabbed your designated sleepover blanket and nestled on their couch after they all went to bed. It wasn’t often that you stayed overnight but it had happened a few times so this wasn’t new for you. Surprisingly, even though you were quite tired, sleep wouldn’t come to you. Insomnia was a usual thing for you, so you were watching cute cat videos on your phone. It was pushing 2a.m when Chan returned from the studio, with a squeaking from the door and the soft sound of his footsteps. You sat up as he turned on the light and stretched.

“What are you doing up so late?” he giggled quietly. You could see that he was really tired, dark circles underneath his sparkly eyes. You rolled your eyes, mentally scolding yourself for getting romantic like this.

“We got baking cookies and it took longer than expected, so the boys offered me to stay over. But I can’t really fall asleep.”

“You baked cookies? Are there any left for me?” There’s that lovely sparkle again, you thought as you pointed to the box on the kitchen counter.

“What are you doing out so late?” was now your turn to ask him.

“Editing.” he sighed as he all but fell on the couch you were sitting on, munching on a cookie. “I wasn't able to finish something I wanted and I’m so frustr- Oh my god these are delicious!” he looked at you. “Did you make these?”

“I mean… the recipe is mine but everyone helped!” you said with a shrug.

He smiled sweetly at you and you kept talking for a bit. As you could see his eyes getting heavier and heavier, you patted the couch right next to you, wordlessly calling him closer for some cuddles. You knew Chris well enough, he basically lived on affection and you could tell that he really needed and most definitely wouldn’t pass up the chance for a hug. He wrapped his arms around you and you got comfy, trying to not nuzzle to his chest. You tried to get his head away from work for a bit, in hopes to get his stress to ease. Asking him what’s his interest these days seemed to do the work as he brought up astronomy and how interesting he found it lately. He was reading about the stars of Andromeda just yesterday.

“Oh so you know the story behind it too?”

“Sadly no” he said with a sigh. “The book I got is mostly scientific so I don’t really know the mythology.” He pouted.

“Good thing I had an ancient Greek mythology phase then.” you giggled and you started telling him the story of Andromeda and Perseus. Five minutes in you could hear his soft snores and you tried to hold in your giggles. You pulled the blankets over you two and in a few minutes you were fast asleep too.

Around 6a.m. an incredible thirst woke Chris up. As he saw you nuzzled up into him, clinging to his shirt, he felt a blush creep up his cheeks. How were you so cute? Your voice had peacefully lulled him to sleep last night and even though he’s only slept a few hours, he was already feeling rested. He smiled warmly, gave you a tiny kiss on your forehead, carefully got up and after covering you back up, went to his own bedroom.

A few hours later you woke up into the already noise-filled dorm. As you finished washing up and walked towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water, you saw Chan already sitting on the table with an extra cup of coffee next to you and you swore you could feel your heart flutter.

~

It had been a few weeks later that you got to see the boys again. You were busy with some paperwork and they were promoting their latest comeback. Minho had suggested that you could come watch their performance and then you could all go get food and hang out later since they’d have a few days off. You were backstage, just catching up with them, simultaneously daydreaming of sleeping in Chris’ arms. You’d be lying if you denied that you haven’t been feeling warm and soft every time you thought about it. You happened to be talking with him at the moment that a very familiar figure walked into the room.

There stood Matthew, or… you were pretty sure he went by BM lately. Your older brother’s best friend, from way before you moved to Korea was KARD’s beast rapper and dancer Big Matthew and naturally, growing up he had been like a second older brother to you. Chris, being the friendliest person was politely saying hello to him before he turned to introduce you to his hyung and before he could blink you were receiving a bear hug from your old friend.

“Y-You two know each other?” Chris stuttered.

“This little munchkin? I knew her since she was in diapers!” BM laughed out loud, ruffling your hair. You started catching up and since the boys had to start getting their makeup done so he took you outside of the room to continue your conversation. You were soon laughing to his jokes, remembering old stories and talking about each other’s families. In-between a joke and completely out of nowhere he got serious.

“So what's up with you and Bang Chan?” he asked.

"N-nothing! We're just friends!" you mumbled.

“Yeah ok, as if you're not starry-eyed when you look at him.” He rolled his eyes as he answered.

And all of a sudden your eyes were full of tears the feelings that you were trying so hard to hide, pouring out as you began telling him everything. Your feelings and how they grew without you even realizing it, how sweet and lovely Chris was and how he always found time, even when he seemed to be so busy to send you cute supportive messages and ask you about your day. You finally had to admit it, you were in love with him…

“Please don’t tell anyone Big Bear. I’ll get in trouble… or worse he’d get in trouble” you wiped some last stray tears and sniffled as he hugged you protectively.

Little did you know that Chris had heard everything. He had finished getting ready first and went out looking for you, and he happened to find you talking about old stories and felt his heart sink. You sure seemed close with BM. And then he heard his question… and your quiet sobs. And he couldn’t believe his ears. He truly felt like the luckiest man in the word, he wanted to come hold you and wipe your tears himself but he felt frozen in place. As he heard the conversation die down he found the courage to come over.

You could feel Matthew poking gently at your side as Chris approached and you pretended to worry about BM overworking himself, and patting his shoulder. Chris smiled cutely at you two and quickly found an excuse.

“Do you mind if I steal Y/N from you hyung? Minho wants to tell her something.” he said, scratching his head. BM looked at him knowingly, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll let you, but you have to take care of her, alright Chan?” Matthew smirked.

Chris smiled softly and nodded, took your hand and started walking towards the changing room and you followed him, trying to slow your shocked and still slightly overwhelmed heart. You also tried to not overthink the fact that he was holding your hand ever so softly. He stopped halfway though and you quirked an eyebrow, almost ready to ask him what’s wrong when he turned towards you and took your free hand in his too.

“Ok so… I lied. Minho didn’t want to tell you anything… It was me who wanted to tell you something. Something really important.” You instantly grew worried, but before you could ask anything he continued.

“I like you! Like, a lot. I’ve liked you for a long time. You’re so kind and loving and so very cute, I swear there’s not a day that I don’t want to kiss your cheeks. The boys like you and you’re so good at taking care of them. You’re as sweet as the cookies you bake and then some.” he kissed your hand as he confessed his feelings to you and you stood there in shock.

You could feel the tears from earlier almost returning, this time from joy.

“Ch-Chris are you serious?” you asked, your hands shaking. He nodded shyly, rubbing the back of your hand.

“I like you too Chris, I’ve liked you for so long” you answer as you let go of his hands and excitedly wrapped them around his shoulders for a hug. He just as excitedly wrapped his arms around your waist and gave you his warmest hug.

He gently raised his hands to your cheeks, caressing your face ever so softly and looked into your eyes he leaned down for a kiss.

“Mmhm, I was right, definitely sweeter than the cookies” he teased and you giggled as you stood on the tips of your toes to steal one more kiss.

[currentfandomkick]

Miraculous Team and the Batboys- Mundane Monday and Plot is Connecting Maybe

HEY so thank you all for waiting, puppy plus work being mobbed is hell, so this took forever to get brain power to write... oh well.

--

Marinette was on guard when she came into class. Her meeting of the “End Gabriel Agreste” Club with its core four members—herself, Chloe, Nino and Sabrina—went well. They were now 15% away from their goal.

Apparently Felix snatched up 3% on his own and gave it to MDC while she was away. Apparently it was his way of a peace offering… or a bribe not to kill him on sight. She wasn’t sure which… yet.

Properly awake and with her favorite drink (blend of dark roast, cream and a tiny bit of Energy Mayhem Special) she was good for the day. Everyone had their usual orders in their seats.

She raised an eyebrow when she noticed a text from Red Robin on her phone, currently a rose and bird emoji label.

RR: So, scale of one to ten, how bad is it if I accidently figured out your partner?

Marinette took a deep breath at that, checked the classroom (Nino was off with Kitty Section debating how to fix the ‘off’ bit of the rift in Rose’s latest song—something about it not ‘punching right’ and Luka being busy with his other band, Chloe and Sabrina were currently fighting Bustier in her office, Alya was conspiring with the Girl Squad on Lila’s end since she wasn’t in, Max and Kim were obviously eavesdropping on that conversation while Nathaniel was off in his own world). Damian still hadn’t come in, and Adrien wasn’t in yet… she wondered if her Chaton was going to sleep in for once.

LB: Please tell me you haven’t told your team

She kept her breathing steady, not letting panic overtake. That would alert people she didn’t want knowing, to looking, which leads to suspecting and rumors and theories and she’d like to avoid that entirely—especially since she still can’t really lie.

RR: I have a feeling you would kick us all out if I did, so I haven’t.

Marinette sighed, tension leaving her shoulders.

LB: Good. Keep it that way as long as you can, okay?

RR: They’re detectives, once they have the pieces they’ll put it together… also, why is your team so easy to figure out?

Marinette winced at that.

LB: Dumb Magic Rules.

Like the one that training a wielder young will prevent corrupting them to use it for personal gain. Like the one where a Guardian cannot be a True Guardian until they connect to the entire Box or Set of kwami. Like the one where Fu can’t give up being Guardian until she’s fully fledged… and that means until she can reclaim the Nooroo and Dusuu and heal Dusuu’s miraculous. That when she does—when she does Fu is gone.

She kept her breathing steady. nothing that they wouldn’t see as Typical Marinette Fretting Over Orders… not that they knew she had those cleared for the month.

“Good morning Dupain Cheng.”

She put her phone away easily, quick to keep up Typical Marinette (no plotting or superheroing here, just Typical Marinette, Baker’s Daughter and Keeper of Secret Drink Menu).

“Hi Damian, how was your weekend?”

“Annoying.” She winced at that. He didn’t exactly have friends here, and time differences are a horrible strain on them… Maybe Ladybug should keep an eye on him… just in case. “I hope yours was adequate.”

She was really wondering who taught him French today… he was being less him and more… stuffy than usual.

“I just needed some time away...” Honestly, she needed a lifetime away from Bustier and Hawkmoth… Lila was manageable (now).

“I am glad you were able to then.”

She was wondering where her deskmate went and why he wasn’t looking at her… Maybe she overdid it last week? She—no. She is stopping her analysis brain from going off and---

“Hello Marinette,” grinned obviously Not-Adrien. Seriously—how did they all fall for it back then? Body language, facial tics, accent—its all wrong.

She narrowed her eyes, not aware that Damian was doing the same beside her.

“Aw, didn’t you miss me?”

Nino came over then, scrunching up his nose as they both could tell Fake Adrien Agreste from the real one with ease now.

“What are you doing here,” Nino was definitely tired… He was not applying his sleep schedule quiz results at all. She was so lecturing him… lunch. She could pencil it in for lunch after wrecking Felix for taking Adrien’s place for the day.

“Oh, good to see I-Love-You Girl isn’t the only one that grew a brain since I last saw you all.” Felix raised an eyebrow at Damian, lingering. Plotting. “You’re new.”

“American Transfer, leave him out of whatever’s going on in that thing you call a brain.” Marinette was not going to deal with an akuma over this. Nope. She was not dealing with that again—or a series of Akuma… God she was going to kill Felix personally if he did. Chloe was untouchable as the Mayor’s daughter, but him? She could take him down again.

“And where’s my bro?”

“Your precious Ladybug,” He sneered, “didn’t cast whatever she did last time, and he’s home sick since his allergies are acting up. I figured it’d be as good a time as any to pull our old switcheroo to keep his Father-Farthest away.”

Marinette twitched at that. She knew she was forgetting something… She sent a quick text to Red Robin.

LB: Why didn’t you tell me it was Mr. Pigeon irl, not video!

RR: …you thought I figured it out from a video?

Marinette rolled her eyes openly at her phone, ignoring Nino as he threatened Felix with his own brand of Bro Shovel Speech.

LB: detectives, most of our battles are caught a decent amount on video, and most of Paris knows that Mr. Pigeon makes him sneeze. Really not a hard recon.

RR: I think you are overestimating my willingness to watch amateur video at length when I can outsource.

Marinette huffed at that.

LB: So you trusted them to not miss major clues when you were all working on different things and would miss key connections?

RR: we’re on the same page as a team. Plus, I get better info filtered with my apps

LB: Magic Fucks Things Up

RR: I’ve noticed.

She looked up to see Damian staring ahead, and wondered if she did something, or didn’t or—NO! Bad Marinette—no going down Rumination Ruin until its time to sleep. She needs daytime for Plotting, Nighttime for Anxiety and Regrets to run wild.

She kept her attention forward when class began, pointedly Not Talking To The Gremlin but not busting him either—she wasn’t going to get Adrien in trouble. Bustier may not notice the abuse signs, but a few other teachers had, and were given the ‘heads up’ by Nino and Chloe and Sabrina.

Lila was the only one unaware of the switch when she left during lunch to drop off a few deliveries her parents asked her to handle when the rush hit. Mostly to one elderly home, and one to her favorite Rescues Only center.

(if she was seen cooing at Lord Murder—yes she knows that’s a Bad Name but the giant kitty amputee was named that years ago before she was found and stubbornly refuses all other names. So, Lord Murder (Never Lady, she hisses at that) it was.)

She blinked when she saw Damian walk in on her checking the Lord Murder’s prosthetic.

“Hey Damian.”

“Dupain Cheng.”

Marinette nodded in acknowledgement and hoped he didn’t catch her calling Lord Murder “the lord and master of murder, the most deadly kitty in existence, and yes, clearly the most cunning of kitties to manage to scratch Mean ol’ Jean with the new paw when it doesn’t even have claws, because you are The Lord Murder, kitty of cuteness and wrath to all unwanted bath times.”

He was watching her then. “Lord likes you.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, as yes, her favorite rescue (sorry Chat) likes her. She’s the one who argued them into letting them try out prosthetics and handled the funding (officially as MDC) and may have gone overboard on checking everything from the fits and materials and… yeah, okay, she could admit that the giant fluffy Norwegian Forest home in a millisecond if it wasn’t for the health code violation (soon… Gina mentioned she might stop renting out her old house soon as the current group was only a quick temp and she didn’t want someone else living there that wasn’t like family… and something about her Lost Son using it for the moment. Maybe she could convince Maman and Papa to let her do house sitting is she breaks out the Kitten Eyes.)

“Yes. Yes she does.”

Then Lord slow blinked at Damian. She wasn’t sure if she sould be offended or worry her favorite might be adopted by someone else, or glad that it was a serial pet adopter that actually took care of their pets and would be just as nuts as her about making sure Lord Murder was happy and healthy.

“I see she likes you too.”

She could feel Tikki dying in her bag… yes, she was being… awkward. She got it…

“Anyways, I should get going, still have a delivery to do and all so…”

She didn’t, she just really had no idea how to broach the Awkward that was Damian Greyson at the moment.

“See you tomorrow.”

That got him to pause. “Tomorrow?”

“Uh, gymnastics for the rest of the day, making up for what I missed so…”

“If you see the Other Grayson, tell him he is not to hug you.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “I…” Brother, father, maybe cousin or legal guardian or friend of his father’s. Too many possibilities, too much to spiral on that she can’t right now. SO.

“O. okay then.”

“Good.”

Marinette waited for him to leave the room, looking at a Too Amused Lord Murder.

“Don’t you start with me, I know I’m a mess on a good day. And no, I’m not overthinking this time Lord, I’m planning, there’s a difference… And no, its not an Alya Plot.”

Those went sideways too fast.

She left with ease and froze at the text from Red Robin.

RR: Can we meet up tonight? No traces that way.

She sent a time and place and –If no akumas happen.

--

THANK YOU ALL FOR WAITING. it has been a hellish time at work and extra shifts and war-zone lately on top of Precious Puppy Bonding and Care. As always, edits when I can get there and any comments or things you'd like to see expanded on more, leave a comment and I'll try to work it in if it flows.

As you can see, Plot Lines are converging soon.

Big Question though--what kind of Lila Exposed By Class do we want/are angling for? I can go legal or social backlash, blacklisting from Agreste brand, or some combo, or keep it a background element as I don't like how cannon Lila is written and the characters altered to make her bad lies work, so...

Other inquiry--do we want Dick to see Marinette take down someone (probably trying to rob her) on her way out of her gymnastics place on her way home using a few Obviously MIxed Gymnastics and Specific Brand of Martial Arts that feels oddly familiar to Nightwing who tells Red Robin and for him to groan as 'Coffee Angel, Why!' and then the next day its 'oh. Coffee Angel is also That Woman's Granddaughter. It all makes Sense now.' (as i hc Gina as probably busting a few drug, weapons, and human trafficking rings on occasion as how she met Jason back in the day) OR for him to only see the end as Nightwing and stare as she took them down and used her earbuds as 'makeshift handcuffs' while she's calling Sabrina as "I'm fine, no dodged their hits and yes i didn't get gassed this time... yes I'll let the medics look me over and no i'm not going to vanish before they get here unless Akuma, Yes if that happens i'll go to the hospital after--Look, i think i saw a shadow just move. I'm going on Akuma-mode now so... Thanks!" before running to meet up with Red Robin and have it take meeting Gina and looking between Gina and Marinette and how she responds to Jason trying to spar with her and then it clicks? I can go either way, but... Tim figures them out quick and straight up says at one point "I mean, Queen Bee after Style Queen, inverse colors... I've seen the multiverse, I had her pegged after seeing her in the bakery last week." All while Not Telling The Bats as Marinette's team doesn't even know and he has a feeling (correctly) she'll react Badly if she isn't the one to tell him before he comes clean, and ears her bolting as 'no support, team leader, and often absentee and likely disabled mentor, civilian life was a wreck for two years and her civilian safety net is only JUST reforming... hm. That's Famil--Oh.... well... wait until trust is there and let her move on that front, try not to set her off and offer help in what she'll allow--or risk pissing off the demi-goddess of creation and his Coffee Angel. Which he'd like to avoid, please and thank you.

Yeah, Tim is definitely going to Project on Marinette in this.

Also, I see Jason or Dick as Getting Marinette is InvolvedTM next... and Damian being the one to confirm the suspicions.

Prefer Jason Big Brothering or Dick "New Sister Mode Engaged" to suspect she's a temp hero? (Jason via Have You Seen Her in a Spar--and it's Gina's Granddaughter vs Dick 'Her Moves are Too Familiar, Maybe Ladybug uses her as a Body Double and trains her?' as the first Suspicion Arisen among the Bats.

[teannamon]

The Black Cat and the Princess (ML Fic) 6

Cover art by deryuj :>

[ Family Switch AU ]  Marinette’s the only child of fashion icon Gabriel Agreste, and Adrien is the adopted child of Sabine and Tom Dupain-Cheng, two of the best bakers in Paris. What happens when their paths meet?

↫ Chapter 5

Chapter 6: Adrien gets a visit from Marinette at the bakery.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Adrien groaned as he turned off his alarm. He was tired from last night’s party, not because of the party itself but because he spent most of his energy trying to calm down a drunk Alya from participating in another “Alcohol or Awful” drinking game. Ultimately, Nino decided to just take her home and he also decided to call it a night. At 3 am.

He rubbed his eyes and stretched to get ready for his weekend baking duties. Dropping down from his bed he grabbed a quick change of clothes and headed to the bathroom.

‘Not awful but not amazing either’ he thought to himself as he viewed his tired self in the mirror. After washing his face with cold water, he quickly changed into clean clothes. That’s when he noticed something missing from the hamper.

His favorite cardigan.

“Did I leave it at the party?” he asked out loud while double checking the hamper, but he remembered Marinette. Seeing her shiver from the gym clothes she changed into prompted him to lend her his cardigan so she would at least feel better from whatever happened to her.

“I’ll see her at school anyways, at least she’ll get home in better conditions” he said to no one in particular as he opened the trapdoor to head downstairs.

Sabine already prepared him a meal for him at the counter-three pieces of croissants, omelet, and a cup of coffee. She waited for him all night, so she knows how tired he must’ve been.

“Good morning dear, eat up so you can help your father downstairs” she greeted while taking a sip of her tea. Adrien gave her a kiss on the cheek as he sat down to eat, “Thanks mom”

“No problem hun, drunk Alya again?” she asked and Adrien chuckled while stuffing the bread into his mouth.

“You know it” he said after swallowing. He was enjoying his meal and almost choked when he heard his mother’s next question.

“Speaking of Alya, she mentioned you’re seeing a girl named Marinette is it?”

“N-no,” he sputtered out “Well technically I see her everyday because miraculously our schedules are almost identical, but she’s just a friend I swear Alya is just-and why are you laughing?”

His mom covered her mouth to stop her from laughing too loud but eventually calmed down, “You’re cute when you’re defensive, and Alya didn’t tell me anything. Actually, Marinette is at the bakery downstairs, said she wanted to bring back something for you”

She gave him a wink as she said, “I bet your father is already talking to her”

“What?!” the blonde boy ate his breakfast with much speed so he could head downstairs.

Meanwhile, Marinette and Tom were making small talk while he set the pastries on the display cases. She was in awe at the wonderful smell of fresh morning pastry, she made note to come here every morning that she can.

“I hear Alya mention your name a lot whenever she comes here, I’m guessing you’re that young designer she’s very fond of”

Said designer smiled sheepishly, “I guess you can say that. She has a lot of my outfits to say the least, and I’m glad we’re friends now”

Tom hummed in response before offering her a red velvet cupcake, “That’s great to hear, here’s a cupcake for making you wait long. Free of charge”

“Oh! that’s so nice of you, sir. It’s no bother though, I didn’t mind waiting”

“Even so, please take it. I’m sure one cupcake won’t hurt”

She happily took the cupcake and took a small bite, she was delighted by the taste “This is very delicious!” she exclaimed.

“I’m glad you like it; this is Adrien’s specialty” he gave her a knowing look she didn’t quite catch on as she’s too invested in the cupcake.

Another mental note-ask them to cater one of her future parties.

Just then Adrien burst in through the door that leads to the bakery.

“Good morning, Adrien” he greets with a large smile. Marinette peeks around the display case on the counter obstructing her view to see the person who he came here for.

“Hi Adrien” she waves with her cupcake in hand.

“Good morning dad, Marinette” he greeted back, sounding a bit out of breath.

He puts on an apron before taking his post behind the counter. At that moment his father conveniently ran out of cookies to put on display.

“Ah would you look at that, I’m all out” he said all too cheerfully and left for the kitchen door in quick strides “I’ll leave you two here then. Alone. Together”

Adrien internally facepalmed, ‘Not being subtle at all, dad’ and with that Tom closed the door behind him and as he said, leaving the two alone together.

He turned back to face Marinette who had no idea what just transpired as she just finished her cupcake. He noticed the custom cupcake liner he always used for his own cupcake recipe so he cheerfully told her, “That’s my special cupcake, what do you think? It’s a Crowd Favorite”

“It tastes amazing! I love the mix of dark chocolate and strawberry” she excitedly told him, “oh and the marshmallow frosting is such a cool idea. Does it have a name?”

Adrien resisted a chuckle, “I told you it’s a Crowd Favorite”

She rolled her eyes, “Well yeah, I meant special recipes have names right?”

He pointed his thumb towards the display case lined with his special cupcakes under the tag “Crowd Favorite”. This made Marinette groan but then chuckled after “Oh my gosh, you really are such a dork”

The blonde laughed with her and shrugged, “Well what can I say, I really am adorkable” repeating his statement last night, which reminded him.

“Anyway, I forgot to ask how you were since last night?”

“I got home safely thankfully, and speaking of” she reached down and placed a paper bag on the counter “you really didn’t need to lend me your cardigan you know but I do appreciate the gesture”

She smiled sweetly and Adrien couldn’t help but feel flustered as he recalled how close they were when he mindlessly carried her on the way out. He rubbed the back of his neck as he took the paper bag and placed it under the counter.

Just then the bell chimed and Adrien instinctively greeted whoever entered the bakery, “Good morning, how can I help you today?”

The blunette moved a little to the side to give way for the customer to approach the counter. She was wondering where the customer was until she looked down and saw a short old man wearing a red Hawaiian shirt. 

“Hello Mr Wang, the usual?” Adrien asked with such familiarity. The old man nodded and smiled. As Adrien turned around to pack up his orders the old man, Mr Wang, turned to the female visitor who busied herself looking at the other pastries on display.

“Here you go, I added an extra cinnamon roll from the burnt pile as well” Adrien handed him a small box of pastries and took his payment. 

“Thank you, Adrien. See you again tomorrow” Mr Wang took one last glance at Marinette as he left. The bell chimed as the door closed behind him.

Sensing that the day would get busier as time went on Marinette decided to say her goodbyes and leave. She approached the counter to face Adrien.

“Well, I guess I should go too since I already did what I came here to do but I’d love to come visit the bakery again” 

“No problem, Marinette. See you tomorrow at school” he waved as she left the bakery.

As soon as she left he turned to the kitchen door to see both his parents peeking through the small window obviously spying on their adorable son and his equally adorable female classmate.

———————-

“Are you done with your errands?” Gabriel asked her daughter thru the phone.

Marinette rolled her eyes, “Yes father, we’re en route to the mall like you said”

Another event that she’s obligated to attend being the secondary face of the Agreste brand. That, and she needs to make up for her mishap last night.

“Good, and don’t forget to fix how you look all the time. I wouldn’t want to go through all the trouble of trying to get rid of unpleasant images of you uploaded to the net for everyone to see”

“Noted” she snapped as the call ended. She sighed and sank to her seat as they drove thru the city.

Last Night…

Chloe’s limo stopped in front of the Agreste mansion’s gate. Gabriel Agreste was already waiting for Marinette as soon as he got his daughter’s call.

“Ugh this won’t be good” she groaned and Chloe looked at her friend sympathetically.

The blonde patted her back, “Hey Mari, at least you had fun. Whatever your dad will tell you now shouldn’t take that away”

Marinette smiled at Chloe, she really was thankful for her. No matter how shallow and self-centered she might be at times she really does understand her and comes through when times get hard. 

“Thanks Chloe, see you on Monday” she said as she was about to leave.

She stood next to Gabriel as the limo left. 

He looked at her current get-up, “Those were not the clothes you left with tonight”

She looked down and wrapped the cardigan around her tighter, “Yes, I know. Can we get inside and I’ll explain everything”

He didn’t say a word but both of them went inside the mansion. As soon as they stepped foot inside he looked at her for an explanation.

Taking a deep breath she told him how she got soaked in juice, had a senior let her borrow gym clothes from a schoolmate, and Adrien letting her borrow his cardigan. 

She chose to withhold some information like the blackmail from Lila or when Adrien walked in on her underwear. If Gabriel knew about those details she’s more worried about what her father is going to do to them than her.

‘He’s quiet again, what now?’ she wondered, her anxiety growing more and more each second he’s not saying anything.

He sighed, “Well it can’t be helped since you’re at a disorganized and rowdy event. Next time limit your attendance to those unless it's necessary”

“Y-yeah, of course” 

“Goodnight, Marinette”

“Goodnight, father” she mumbled as they parted ways towards their own rooms.

She flops into the bed feeling frustrated at… well, she doesn’t know exactly.

Maybe Lila, for ruining her night and her outfit or her father for not even asking if she was okay throughout the whole night’s ordeal. Either way, she’s frustrated as hell.

‘Deep breaths Mari, deep breaths’ she reminded herself and she calmed herself down after a few seconds. 

“Like Chloe said, I had fun tonight despite what happened” she told herself as she recalled the people she met that night, the live student band, the crazy games she got to witness, and her new friends.

She never would’ve guessed that Adrien would have the guts to carry her all the way outside though. Somehow that was the most memorable event of that night for her, she pondered as she fiddled with the cardigan of his. 

As she took it off she noticed something written on the tag, ‘Adrien’s favorite cardigan DO NOT TOUCH’

“He really is a dork,” she giggled.

Marinette (wearing Adrien’s cardigan) being carried by Adrien in Chapter 5

art by @deryuj​

↬ Chapter 7 (tba) ↬ AO3 Link

Its been almost a year since I last updated this but I hope you guys can forgive me QwQ... I’ll be updating this story more often though since college stuff is all done (and by done I meant holding it off til next year lmao)

But rest assured updates will be more frequent from now on, maybe every 3days or every week hehe

✦ Tag List : @conquering-medians​