#So yeah. Sorry for no art this past month. Got distracted with finals and stuff then proceeded to find something to do for the summer

[evarenity]

So uh, how’s everyone’s month going so far?

[0097linersb]

Pink Lemonade

CHAPTER 1

Pairings: Jaemin x Renjun x Haechan x Jeno x Mark x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Humor (I guess), Slow burn af

Summary: The dreamies decide to spend some weeks at an Inn in the middle of the nature to relax and enjoy some outdoor adventures, far away from their crazy idol life. What they didn’t expect was the nice girl running said Inn.

Word count: 3k

You should read the intro first so this story makes sense <3

☼  previous / next  ☼

A/N: Honestly guys this fic will probably be long and detaild af ‘cause I’m using it as a distraction from real life lol guess who just finished their engagement. If u would like it to be more straightforward and go right to the fun parts let me know, I’d really like some opinions! Also, it’s like 2 AM so I’ll proofread it tomorrow 

As you woke up the next day, you were not shocked to find that the boys were not up yet. Last night you were surprised to come downstairs to an already fully cleaned kitchen and as much as it made you embarrassed, it also made you immensely grateful. You thanked them and told them to stop being so nice and doing your job for you, to which Mark only responded that seven guys could be really messy sometimes.

You had given them the folders that informed all the activities the Inn (well, you) offered and the ones they could book in the city a few minutes away, it made you smile at how excited they got reading the paper and planning their days. Haechan was already asking if they could go stargazing that same night but the rest of them groaned saying they were way too tired to move after the long trip (and you felt bad once again for having them clean the kitchen).

Everyone eventually agreed on a time for breakfast and you were just sure they wouldn’t wake up that early by the dark circles under their eyes and, turns out you were right. They did go to sleep pretty early the other night, showering after the meal you had and just going straight to bed.

You lazily stretched as you left your room with Koda and Kenai tracing after you, to find a very much awake Jaemin sitting on the living room’s couch holding a cup.

“Good morning, did you make coffee?” You yawned at the boy, scolding Koda so he would get off the couch.

“Good morning. Yeah, sorry for taking the liberty, I really needed to wake up,” He smiled at you, petting your disobedient dog with his free hand so he could get distracted from the way your shirt had ridden up. Damn morning horniness.

“It’s ok, smells good. Are the rest of the boys awake?”

“Nop, and probably won’t be for a while. I know we agreed on going to the lake at 8 but everyone’s dead, I can wake them up if-“

“No, it’s ok,” You laughed. “I imagined this would happen, not a fan of waking up early myself.”

“Oh, you can go back to sleep if you want, I can knock when everyone starts waking up.”

“Don’t worry. You just really made me want some coffee.”

“I left it downstairs, I can go get you a cup.”

“Jaemin, we’re playing opposites here, don’t make me feel useless,” You joked, already making your way to the stairs, missing how the man stared at your legs in your little pajama shorts. “Plus, I need to take the boys on a walk before they become too fidgety.”

“Can I come with?”

“Of course.”

Jaemin was quick to stand up and follow you downstairs, where you quickly poured yourself a cup of coffee and opened the door, the dogs running past you excitedly. You silently lead the way out of your property and into the unpaved road, warming your hands with the coffee mug – The days were hot but the nights and early mornings could be quite chilly, especially with all the trees surrounding you and blocking the sunshine from reaching you.

“Do they sleep with you?” Jaemin asked, pointing at the dogs who were sniffing around the bushes on the side of the road, like they didn’t do this same route every day.

“Sometimes, they often prefer to stay outside, lots of animals to chase when I’m not there to scream at them.”

“They don’t wear leashes?”

“No need to, there’s barely people here and they are really well-behaved. I trained them well, Koda just gets a little bold when we have new guests over,” You smiled, remembering not even 5 minutes ago said dog was trying to get on Jaemin’s lap on the couch. “Do you like tangerines?”

The boy looked at you confused but nodded.

“Wait a second,” You asked before leaving him, walking off the road and into the trees. After a minute or so, you were back, throwing one of the orange fruits at Jaemin. “I steal them from the neighbors sometimes.”

“Will we get in trouble?” He asked but was already peeling the tangerine with his hands.

“Nah, they are never here. These would just rot.”

“Seems only fair then.”

You walked for another few minutes in silence, eating happily as you appreciated the sound of your feet crushing the small rocks on the floor.

“Ok, tangerines do not go well with coffee,” You make a face after eating half of your fruit, only now stopping to pay attention to the actual taste in your mouth.

Jaemin laughs at you before putting his last slice into his mouth, “Cute.”

“There’s nothing cute about this flavor.”

“Didn’t bother me,” He shrugged, smiling down at you.

Damn that boy was too attractive for his own good. You meant, all of them were.

It was just unfair, really.

The two of you talked a bit more until you hit the end of the road and then made your way back, it was a light-hearted comfortable conversation and you liked the way it made you feel warm inside. You learnt that Jaemin likes to photograph stuff and you asked him to take lots of pictures during their stay so you could use them on the Inn’s social media, telling him you shared that hobby with him. You then started a discussion about digital vs. film photography, in which you two clearly didn’t agree on, but it kept you entertained for a long time.

“Listen, technology evolved to this point to make life comfortable and easier for a reason!” Jaemin whined as you two were entering your property once again. “Is there something worse than developing your pictures only to find out your film was ruined?”

“That’s the thrill of it!” You exasperated.

“I call that heartbreak.”

“It’s a raw form of art for the strong hearted,” You sigh dramatically, opening the door for the man.

After your half an hour walk, as you got back home, only Renjun was up, pouring himself some coffee and looking super sleepy.

“Good morning, slept well?” You asked as Jaemin made his way to sit down on the table after getting Renjun to pour him some more coffee.

“Yeah, this is the first time I dreamt in months,” He smiled at you but his eyes were still half closed. Like you, Renjun was still in his pajamas, light sweatpants and a wrinkled white t-shirt.

“Do you guys want to eat something before breakfast?” You asked, not knowing how long they would have to wait for the others.

“It’s ok,” Jaemin answered.

“If you change your mind just let me know,” You smiled, wondering on what to do now, since you had already prepared the food for today last night and didn’t have any other chores until everyone was up so you could make their beds.

You figured the boys would drink their coffees and go talk or lay down in the hammocks, maybe even try to nap a bit but you were proven wrong when Renjun pointed at the end of the table suddenly excited, “Are those cards?”

“Yeah.”

“Can we play?”

“Of course.”

The man was quick to pick up the little box and sit down across the table from Jaemin, who tapped the place next to him before you had the chance to leave. You happily took on the offer, content with finally spending some fun time with people your age. No, scratch that: Attractive men your age.

“Let’s play Rummy!” Renjun suggested, the sleepiness leaving his body at the simple thought.

“I have no idea how to play that,” You informed.

“It’s ok, I’ll teach you. Come closer,” Jaemin smiled at you and you obeyed, heart beating fast at your thighs suddenly touching. What were you? 12?

The game was way too complicated for your morning brain to understand so you basically just watched the boys play, giving your input here and there.

“Jaemin, here!” You excitedly pointed at one of the cards he was holding.

“Oh, I had missed that, smart girl,” He smiled at you, patting your thigh as a thank you or maybe a praise, making your heart almost leave your body through your mouth. 

Freaking pet names dude.

After an hour or so playing, Jeno and Haechan appeared already fully clothed and awake. The second boy gave you and Jaemin a weird look, noticing how the boy’s right hand was just casually resting on your thigh. At some point it just happened and it felt comfortable (if you ignored your blood pumping through your body twice the normal speed, of course), it had been months since you had flirted with someone and you were enjoying the touch fully, thoughts of being professional nowhere to be found.

You greeted the boys and they sat down too, informing Mark and Chenle would be down in a second and Jisung would just skip breakfast to sleep. You decided then to get up and leave them to chat as you went into the pantry to organize the food you had prepared yesterday, into the baskets.

“Dude,” Haechan whispered to Jaemin.

Just by looking at the boy, Jaemin already knew what he wanted to comment on so he just, “Don’t.”

“Game on, bro.”

“What? This is not a game, we were just-“

“I said game on, bro.”

Jaemin sighed and gave up, knowing Haechan was just joking and being annoying as usual.

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

After all the men (minus Jisung) were downstairs and ready to go, you guided them down to the lake, setting up one of those cliché plaid towels for everyone to sit on. As you and Mark organized the foods around, you smiled at the others running around the grass and taking pictures, impressed at the view. The lake really was pretty and your property had a privileged clearing to sit down and enjoy it.  

“I would love to say they are normally not this energetic,” Mark smiled at you, placing the bowl with the grapes and strawberries down. “But I’d be lying.”

“It’s refreshing, I rarely deal with people my age around here. We didn’t add bingo to the activities’ folder for no reason.”

“There are no clubs or bars around here?”

“The biggest city around has barely 2.000 habitants so I’ll say no to that. Although this region is becoming really famous for the ecotourism these days, they opened a nice pub for the tourists like last month but there’s only ever people during the weekends.”

“Well, if you ever go to Seoul, let me take you out,” Mark offered before realizing what he had said and stiffening, cheeks going red like the watermelon juice in your hands. “I mean, like, to show you the places and-“

“That sounds fun,” You smiled at him, deciding to end his misery right from the start. He was cute. “Boys, the food is ready.”

Jeno excitedly dropped Haechan down (who he was holding for a picture) and ran over, leaving a very whiny boy on the floor. Jaemin took a picture of that and soon enough, everyone was sitting down on the picnic clot.

“Wow, it looks like we’re in a movie,” Renjun awed, looking around.

It really did, that’s why you liked bringing the guests to this spot on their first day. After everything was set, the scenery resembled a Renaissance painting and you loved it. It was a bit hotter than normally since it was a few hours later then the time the guests usually have breakfast, but the gentle breeze of the wind was enough to not make it unbearable.  

The meal was fun, the boys made you feel so comfortable that it felt like you have known each other for a longer time than the actual truth. You all chatted, joked around and posed for pictures with the food. You had brought your analog camera just to tease Jaemin, asking him to take a picture with it for you.

“How do you want it?” The boy groaned, pretending to be annoyed.

“Here, I have an idea,” Haechan shared, excitedly, holding up one of the strawberries from the bowl in front of your face. “Bite it on the side.”

You accepted the advice confused, not understanding where he was trying to go with it but excited, you loved a good old-fashioned improvised picture. Jaemin pointed the camera at you and counted to three, and you smiled around the strawberry when on the count of one, Haechan bit on the other side of the strawberry and looked at you cross-eyed. After you saw the flash of the camera going off, you decided to take a big bite of the strawberry to play around with Haechan but apparently the boy had the same idea and your lips ended up touching, slightly. Since when has your life become a cliché teenage movie? 

You quickly took the stem of the fruit from between your mouths, pulling away from the boy to tease him, “Damn. Didn’t even buy me dinner first.”

The others joined in on teasing Haechan but the man simply winked at you, “Would be my pleasure.”

You didn’t even have time to giggle before the other men pretended to puke and Renjun legit slapped Haechan.

                                       _____________________________________________

The boys decided to not do any activities that day because Jisung would simply not wake up and after a while waiting, Chenle decided to join him on the hibernation. It made you feel sad for them, that their days were so busy and tiring that at the first sight of some time off, they would sleep for hours and hours to make up for it.

The rest of you decided to play some volleyball in the parking lot (which  was not the best idea considering it was noon). As expected by the almost 40 degrees climate, one by one, every single boy started taking off their shirts, body dripping and glistening with sweat and you just felt in heaven. This could just not be real, you even looked around for cameras, scenes like that just didn’t happen in real life. One hot shirtless guy was the acceptable quota for normality.

But also, you didn’t miss the way they looked at you in your little shorts and top (equal rights after all). It made you feel powerful even though you knew it was just their hormones talking, yours were screaming too after all. If it was already like that on their second day here, you couldn’t imagine how you would survive for the next few weeks, you just wanted to cry every time Jeno (who was on your team) approached you to celebrate when either of you scored, high-fiving you with his huge arms (you would die a happy woman if you were choked by them).

After the game was over, the boys decided to go swim on the lake to cool off and you figured it would be a good time to shower and organize their beds, which you quickly did before starting to make some lunch for everyone. The youngest ones of the group didn’t even wake up to eat so you decided to leave them some food in the microwave in case they got hungry in the afternoon.

Unfortunately the Wi-Fi was being annoying as usual and refused to work, so you couldn’t even google about the boys yet, the curiosity was almost killing you. Maybe it was better like that, right now you were just seeing them as 7 young men living their normal lives and you liked it, it kept you from being nervous at the fact they were probably some big stars that had the world at their feet – They all just seemed so chill sprawled around the living room floor playing the bingo you had joked about earlier, it was hard to believe they probably had hoards of screaming girls around them daily.

They thanked you for cleaning their rooms and told you that you didn’t have to, which technically you did, considering it was literally your job and the whole reason you were there.

You could be wrong, considering you have known them for barely 2 days, but you quickly noticed some little things about them: Like how Jaemin liked to touch you, even if it was just a light brush of his hand on your arm (in his defense, he was touchy with everyone, but when he touched you, it just lingered for a bit longer), or how Haechan liked to playfully flirt with you, that boy just had no shame and you admired him for that. You saw how Renjun often stared at you but when you looked at him, he looked away (which could mean either he was shy or he just didn’t like you very much), but at least he was more subtle about it, as opposite to Mark, who became a blushing mess every time you caught his eyes (and you just wanted to squeeze him). You realized Jeno was a manlier guy, you hadn’t gotten what his deal was yet but you loved the way his eyes disappeared when he smiled and that was enough for you.

It was funny, really, how everyone decided to ignore the tension in the air and go on with the day normally – You did only meet the day before after all.

After getting bored with bingo, the boys told you they planned on going water skiing tomorrow and you agreed happily, telling them you could have a little barbecue party in the camping next to the docks where your parents kept the Inn’s water sports gears, which got them even more excited.

“Can we go camping too?” Jeno asked, receiving a groan from Haechan. Classic city boy.

“Like at night?” You asked and Jeno nodded. “Yeah, actually the stars here are crazy pretty since there’s no light pollution.”

“See?” The boy told Haechan excitedly, who only sighed, accepting his fate.

Barbecue, bonfire, alcohol and a beautiful sky: You were a city girl too but you were also a sucker for a good camping night.

taglist: @eggbutnotyolk @lauraneuuh @geeisaclown @jenotation @riemm @junguwuuu @prettychaeng @satanssugaraddiction @luvlyjaemin @sweetjaemss @oofimdumb @junglekooks @unknown5tar @rosedchae@

[talesofarcadia78]

Hello! 😄 Can I request a fluffy oneshot with prompts: “And I love, I love, I love you.” and [a gentle “I love you too” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss] about Douxie attempts to confess his romantic feelings to shy!female!human! reader and he end up super flustered, but its okay because she thinks it's cute? Hint: She has romantic feelings for Douxie too! I live for flustered Douxie! 💖 Please?? ~🌼

A/n: Special thanks to @itsgabby.2021 for helping!

Confession || One shot

The wind picked up, letting out a quiet whistle. The leaves on the trees had started to change it's colours from the bright green to a warm orange. You wrapped your scarf around your neck and tugged on your jumper, attempting to get warmer.

You continued your way down the path to work.

The smell of coffee instantly hit you as soon as you opened the door of your beloved GDT Arcane Books. You hung your tote bag on one of the hangers next to the entrance.

"Good morning, Y/n!" a chipper voice called from the second floor of the store.

"Good morning, Douxie!" you called back.

You walked over to Douxie's cat, Archie, who was enjoying the morning sun by a window. You pat Archie on his exposed stomach, earning a purr before making your way over to the register.

You had been working at the bookstore for only a month but you felt like that you've been working there forever. Douxie was in urgent need of an employee as his last one had left the state with his wife. He had hung posters all over town, handing any passing person his business card and making calls to his friends to spread the word. Luckily, you had just moved from Europe to the small, quaint town, Arcadia, desperately needing a job.

One day, you were walking around in town, when you noticed a poster saying that GDT Arcane Books was hiring. You rushed over to the store to get interviewed. You were honestly expecting an ageing women/man to be the owner. But it turned out to be your pen pal, Hisirdoux Casperan. He was very happy to meet you in person after years of communicating through letters. He immediately gave you the job, no interview needed, since he knew practically everything about you and vice versa.

After a couple of days of working at the store, you had started to admire Douxie more than just a friend. You had developed a crush on him, which slowly turned into love. But, you knew that Douxie would never feel the same way, so you keep your mouth shut. You were happy with what you had and didn't want to ruin it by blurting out your feelings.

Little did you know, Douxie felt the same way for you.

The offer had been placed to stay at Douxie's place, knowing that you were new in town. But you politely declined, since you were already staying at a pink haired witch's apartment named Zoe Ashildr.

Turns out, Zoe and Douxie knew each other as fellow wizards. Douxie trusted Zoe to keep you safe and kept you company whenever he couldn't.

Back to the present, Douxie came down the stairs with two cups of coffee in each hand, whilst using his telekinesis floated empty boxes behind him.

"Here's a cup of coffee for a lovely lady," Douxie winked as he set a cup on the register as you were counting a new shipment of books.

"Thanks, Doux!" you called, keeping your self distracted as your cheeks had turned a crimson red from his comment.

+ + + + + +

You went to the back, needing to refill a few shelves with new novels.

Almost there…

Your fingers lightly brushed the book you wanted, but you failed to grab it.

You tried again, standing on your tip toes, even though you were on a ladder, you took the risk. This time you successfully got the novel but your foot slipped off of the ladder.

"Douxie!"

Douxie was walking to the back, wondering why you were taking so long, when he heard his name getting yelled by none other than you.

He rushed into the back room to see you falling from a dangerous height.

"Magna tawna truess!" Douxie incanted.

A sky blue aura surrounded you, saving you from the fall. You slowly got placed on the ground.

"You alright?" Douxie asked, frantically looking over you for any injuries.

"I-I'm alright Douxie," you replied.

He let out a sigh of relief.

"Whenever you need to get something from that height, just ask me, okay?"

You nodded in response.

+ + + + + +

You handed the book to the petit, old lady, who gave you some cash, along with a tip, before she headed out of the store.

“Time to close up shop,” Douxie stated, coming out from the back room.

“Finally! It’s been a long day,” you replied, stretching.

Douxie laughed at your antics.

“Get some rest, Y/n,” he smiled, heading to the front door and holding it open for you.

“Thanks, Doux. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said as you walked past him, “I-- ummm… Bye.”

“Yes. Bye, love. See you tomorrow,” he chuckled.

You made your way to you and Zoe’s shared apartment.

You couldn’t help but fluster yourself as thoughts of Douxie ran through your mind.

Before you knew it, you had arrived at your destination, Zoe ready to greet you.

“Hey, Y/n!” Zoe called, leaning on the doorframe, “How was work?”

“Oh, y’know… same-same,” you answered as you entered the abode.

“I forgot to mention this earlier! Douxie’s coming over for dinner!” she hollered from her spot in the kitchen as if she didn’t expect a reaction out of you.

“W-w-what?!” you sputtered, spitting out the drink that was in your mouth.

“Yeah! He should be here at 7!”

You looked at the time.

6:45…

“But… that’s… t-that’s in 15 minutes!” you cried as you ran to your room and rummaged through your clothes for something to wear.

“Well, you better hurry!” she snickered, playfully rolling her eyes.

After rummaging through your wardrobe, you finally found (you choose what you want to wear, rather than the usual plain white shirt and black pants.

Abruptly, you heard the door bell rang.

Oh no… Douxie's here.

You scrambled out of your room and into the main room to see Zoe standing in the doorway, greeting Douxie. He walked inside and spotted you.

"Hey, Y/n!" Douxie waved.

"H-Hi Douxie," you said, “W-what a nice surprise…”

“Indeed. I thought dinner was cancelled when you left work, but Zoe reminded me,” he informed.

You all sat down at the dining table, Zoe serving you your meals.

Zoe and Douxie talked over dinner, exchanging quips and banters.

You just sat there with your mouth shut, afraid of saying something embarrassing in front of Douxie.

After dinner, you tidied up the table, carrying the dishes to the sink.

“Hey! We should get some dessert! How does ice cream sound?” Zoe asked.

You and Douxie exchanged excited glances and nodded in agreement.

“Sounds good,” you smiled.

“Great! Let’s go!” Zoe exclaimed, ushering you and Douxie out the door.

+ + + + + +

You all were enjoying your ice cream at the Bluff, as you all had found the ice cream truck there. Douxie and you were sitting on the bench that was provided, while Zoe was sitting crossed-legged on the ground.

You were showing Douxie all the constellations, pointing each one out to him. He was amazed by all of your knowledge on just stars and space. Douxie knew you had an interest in a lot of things, cooking, art, sport, space, and a whole other stuff. Now, he knows you also take an interest in constellations.

Suddenly, someone's phone began ringing. Zoe noticed it was hers and picked it up.

By the way Zoe's expression turned from happy and cheerful from stressed and worried, you could tell, something was wrong.

She hung up and jumped to her feet.

"Sorry, guys. I have to go. There's a problem at Hex Tech," Zoe explained. "Bye!"

She rushed off before either you or Douxie could say anything.

You both looked at each other and shrugged before going back to constellations.

+ + + + +

Now, you two were just gazing at the stars. Douxie was in deep thought.

He had fallen in love with you in the few months he had started to write letters to you. He had only seen you through a photo that you had attached of yourself in the second letter to him, but he also got to know you through the letters. You had poured your heart into those letters, telling him everything and anything. Douxie had done the same.

He wanted to confess to you so badly! Douxie had planned to confess his feelings a few days ago, though it didn't turn out so great.

Douxie had taken you out to lovely restaurant for dinner. Everything was going according to his plan, your hands were in his as he was going to say everything, when the waiter came and interrupted. And for what? The damn bill!

You being you, took out your card to pay. Douxie wouldn't allow that. So, you two started to argue over who was going to pay the bill. Douxie ended up paying, as he planned the dinner for you.

He tried again outside of the restaurant, where there would be no interruptions. Well, that's what he thought.

You had to go to a friend’s house just after the dinner, so they decided to pick you up. Douxie had no idea about this.

Again, he was going to confess, when a car pulled up beside you two, telling you to hop in.

You apologised and headed off.

After you were gone, Douxie kicked the ground and headed to his house.

Defeated.

+ + + + + +

As you were looking up at the night sky, star gazing, Douxie was gazing at you.

He had made up his mind. He was going to tell you. Everything. Right then and there.

"Uh… Y/n? I-- uh… I wanted to tell you something," Douxie spoke up.

You turned your attention to him, "Yeah?"

Douxie took your hands in his, which made you blush a little.

"Okay, here goes nothing. Y/n… ever since I saw you-- I mean… wrote to you… Well, after I got to know you through writing letters-- through the letters, I started to look at you differently. Not in a weird way! Just more than a friend? Then, when I saw you for the first time in Arcadia, before you came to the shop. I was shocked, like I was surprised that you were in Arcadia. It's not a bad thing! I thought you lived in Europe, but turns out you moved. Anyways, I started to admire you than more a friend. I've gotten to know so much about you over the past month. So, all I want to say is that… I love you…" Douxie stammered.

You giggled at his stammering and flustered state.

He is so adorable.

Douxie took a deep breath before he repeated, "I love you." He stared into your eyes before he pressed his lips onto yours, kissing you softly as you kissed back. You both pulled away, keeping your foreheads touching.

"I love you, too," you whispered.

Douxie's eyes lit up like a child before he pulled you into another kiss, though this time, it was more stronger than the first.

You both pulled away for air just as you heard a click.

You turned your head to the source, to see a pink-haired witch standing there with her phone out, clearly taking pictures.

"Aww! You two are so cute!" Zoe cooed.

You furiously blushed and buried your face into Douxie's chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Zoe Ashildr!"

Word Count: 1,900

[cosmicgiddiness]

O'Neill² | Chapter 3

Art by @altschmerzes

Fandom | Stargate: SG-1

Warnings | Mentions of past child abuse, Waffle Consumption

Rating | K+

Genres | Gen, Family, H/C, Angst, Fluff

Characters | Jack O'Neill, Clone Jack O'Neill, Cassandra Fraiser, Janet Fraiser, SG-1

Chapters | 3/7

Word Count | 23K/40K

Summary: Six months after the events of "Fragile Balance," Jack's clone loses both his memory and his home. The colonel surprises everyone by offering to take him in. Just until they figure things out, of course.

Read on AO3 | Read on FF.Net

Excerpt:

"How'd you sleep?" Jack queries, assessing the kid's slumped posture and blank expression in a series of poached glances as he slides a box of honeycombs in front of him.

Nate does a lightening fast appraisal of his own, dark eyes holding Jack's for barely a second before he reaches for the cereal box with a shrug. "Okay."

"Nate." For the first time, Jack pushes. He plunks the milk on the table and slides into his seat, watching the kid's face.

Nate's ears blossom a bright shade of scarlet, and Jack inwardly grimaces in sympathy, thankful he'd eventually grown out of that embarrassing reaction. Or maybe people politely just stopped commenting on it after he got his captain's bars. "Listen, uh, sorry if I, y'know," Nate squeezes out hurriedly.

"It's okay. I was awake."

Nate nods and pours milk over his cereal.

"Everything okay?"

Nate rolls his eyes, sighing deeply and returning the milk to the table in a controlled fall that results in an abstract painting of milk maculation. "It's nothing." He scrubs at his eyes for a moment before his hands rake through his hair, leaving distracting spikes and tufts in their wake. "I've just been having these dreams. Weird ones. I know everyone says this about their dreams, but these feel real."

Jack nods slowly. "Like memories?"

Nate snorts and pushes his spoon around in his rapidly soggying cereal. "That's what I'd think, except there's no way any of this stuff is real."

"What makes you so sure?" Jack probes, already knowing.

"A bunch of them happen on other planets, for starters."

"Hmm, yes…" Jack reaches for the cereal box, himself. "That does seem improbable."

"And you know those little green aliens from Roswell?"

"Don't I ever," Jack smiles thinly as golden hexagons plink into his bowl.

"They're in a few of them, except they're kind of gray."

"Huh."

"Yeah. You, uh—you're in some of them. Most of them." He cants his head, eyes fixated on his disintegrating cereal as his voice drops a decibel or two. "All of them." A grimace. "It's not as creepy as it sounds."

"I don't know. You, me, Roswell grays, other planets…" Jack waves a hand toward an invisible horizon. "Sounds pretty creepy to me."

"They're not always on other planets. Sometimes they're at, like, the supermarket on Tuesday."

"Now that is terrifying."

Nate finally starts into his breakfast, pulling a face at the no doubt now-slimy texture. Jack pours milk over his own cereal, allowing the silence to stretch over a few bites before he dares to prod any further.

"What was the dream about last night?"

"The desert." He sets down his spoon. "Can I get some juice?"

"You may," Jack corrects absently as Nate gets up from the table. He had been relieved when the kid's memories seemed to show no signs of returning, thinking at least one of them could be spared the guilt and the scars. One of them could have a fresh start at a normal life. But nightmare-riddled nights—full of memories you can't recall and don't want to—don't seem much better. He sighs. "I'm sorry, Nate."

Nate shrugs and frowns as he takes his seat again. "What are you sorry about?"

Jack shakes his head as he realizes he's walking into a repeat of the conversation with Cassie last night. He puts down his own spoon. Breakfast has lost any appeal. "About the dreams. That you can't sleep. You shouldn't have to deal with that." Nate's frown deepens at the strange words but Jack musters a tired smile before he can question further. "Sorry. Forget about it. Your cereal is melting."

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #30 - The Cybertronian Judicial System is a Friggin’ Joke

Have I mentioned that I’m not a huge fan of court case stories? I think they’re pretty boring, on average, so the last couple of issues have been slightly dragging for me.

Anyway, back to Megatron’s trial. 

Our issue opens up with a full back shot of Ultra Magnus.

Artists take note, he really is built like a capital T.

As Magnus reads out Megatron’s statement retracting his “guilty” plea, we get some decent points as to why. See, telling a guy that you’ll stab him in the brain, so his trial can be over as quickly as possible, maybe isn’t such a hot idea. Megatron wasn’t a huge fan of that, or of how those memories they would’ve yanked outta him would have been used to fuel the Autobot propaganda machine. Why, you may ask?

Well, I don’t know if you knew this or not, but Megatron… doesn’t particularly care for the Autobots, nor the rhetoric they uphold.

I know, I was surprised too!

There’s also the fact that Optimus Prime is the judge on this whole thing. You know. Optimus Prime. Off and on leader of the Autobots, whenever it suits him. The guy who fucked off into space for a year after the war. The guy who threw a hissy fit when someone pointed out that he was compromised the last time they did something like this with Megatron. This guy:

Yeah, there might be a slight conflict of interests here. Remind me again why this had to be a military trial?

Anyway, enough of that, it’s time for a fight scene.

A swarm of Decepticons storm the arena, going after Megatron so they can help him escape. Magnus, though acting as Megatron’s defense, cannot abide by this disorder in the court.

Wild to think there’s a tiny little Pringles man with anxiety in there, isn’t it?

Optimus joins the fray, because there really are, just, so many guys to deal with here. A dude goes to collect Megatron, stating that they brought teleport packs for this little shindig. Megatron isn’t super jazzed about that though, not bothering to grab on before the dude gets shot to death. There’s a brief recess, I guess so the janitorial staff can deal with the mess of corpses littering the courtroom.

Meanwhile, in the present day, Rung’s building a model spaceship in Swerve’s, which is a very brave thing to be doing, seeing how sticky and gross bars can be. Brainstorm’s brought a flask to the bar, and proceeds to pour the contents into a funnel sticking out of his arm.

Our bartender for the evening- I’m assuming it’s evening, but I doubt the concept of time has any real weight in space- is Bluestreak. Bluestreak was stationed on Earth for a while, which is some Phase One stuff, and took a liking to human media while he was there. He’s the guy who handles movie night these days, seeing as Rewind’s too busy being dead to do it, and I doubt Chromedome has the emotional bandwidth to take over for his late spouse.

Bluestreak’s favorite movie is Zulu, a film glorifying the colonialism of the English over the native populace of an African kingdom. Make of that what you will.

Whirl wants to watch À Bout de Soufflé, or Breathless, as it was translated for the English-speaking world, which is a French New Wave film about a criminal who shoots a cop, hides from the police in a journalist’s home, who he seduces and likely impregnates. She eventually finds out what he did, reports him to the police, but then has a change of heart and lets him know what she’s done. He runs, but is shot, and dies in the street. The film is notable for its final scene, in which the following dialogue happens, between the dying criminal Michael, his lover Patricia, and an officer.

Of course, any poignancy would almost certainly be lost on the average comic book reader, and is also somewhat nullified by Whirl praising the film with internet lingo.

Then again, I suppose Whirl would be the type to dismantle any deeper reading of his interest in such a film, lest he be subjected to the horrifying ordeal of being known.

Over with Skids and Riptide, it’s revealed that Megatron’s been teaching classes on the Lost Light, specifically on the Knights of Cybertron. Riptide’s getting an education, because he’s been feeling pretty lost since the war ended- we’ll get to the potential whys of that later on. Swerve isn’t a fan of this community college thing that’s going on, stating that Megatron’s using it as a distraction, so he can devise plots most foul.

Back in the past, Autobot high command is having a talk about what Megatron’s demanding, and man is it a doozy— turns out, since the trial’s happening on Luna 2, the trial proceedings are subject to the laws of the moon. One of these moon laws is the right to request being judged by the Knights of Cybertron. Now, this is a problem, seeing as the Knights of Cybertron have been AWOL for the last several million years, but the law is the law, and you can’t just go ignoring it when someone’s pointed it out.

Bro, your SIC just suggested y’all pull the trial so you could slap it on Cybertron, thus negating any need to pay attention to the Knight law. That’s such a gross miscarrying of justice, it’s genuinely baffling. You’ve got bigger issues going on than flouting. My god, Optimus, you were a cop—

Oh wait, that’s right. Carry on, then.

Back on the Lost Light, First Aid’s checking to make sure that the coffin Rodimus they revealed last issue is true and proper dead. Now, this may seem like a given, but you’ve got to remember that Brainstorm was mostly dead for over a year and a half, and nobody fucking noticed, so it’s probably for the best that they’re checking.

First Aid’s been pretty withdrawn since Ambulon died, so this autopsy is really good for him, since it got him out of his room. Pretty fucked up that it would take a dead body to get him out and about. Has Rung checked in on his poor son of a gun, or has he been spending the last six months getting his professional rocks off psychoanalyzing a genocidal warlord?

Our coffin Rodimus died from having parts of his brain removed, and potentially died screaming.

Yes, that is a Furmanism, thank you peanut gallery, moving on—

Ratchet hands the phone over to Ultra Magnus, saying that a call has to be made, and it can’t be by him, because the callee is mighty upset with Ratchet at the moment.

Oh, I guess he’s fine after all. This must be where the sci-fi bullshit really starts kicking in for the series.

Because seeing your own dead body is likely very traumatic and awful, Rodimus is taking a while to string together his thoughts on the matter. Megatron doesn’t particularly care, because he’s not terribly sympathetic to this sort of thing, and the two get into a spat, where it’s revealed that they’re co-captaining the Lost Light.

Because things weren’t chaotic enough on this fucking ship. Need to mix in some peacocking between the McDonalds twunk and the man who killed half of Beijing.

Back in the past, Optimus Prime visited Megatron in prison to have a little chat. It’s not about that little rescue attempt, though the fact that those Decepticons may have been released from the Lost Light’s brig is certainly interesting. No, Optimus is here to sit way too close to his mortal nemesis on the floor of his room and talk about how Megatron is a sneaky bastard.

You remember the Hellraiser puzzle box from a couple issues back? Yeah, that was a communicube, one that was passed to Optimus to suggest that the trial be held on the moon, so the arena there would be able to hold all the people wronged by Megatron. This seems pretty damn convenient in hindsight, but Megatron swears that the legal loophole wasn’t his only intent when he sent the cube.

Because it’s all about you, isn’t it, Megatron? It’s all about how you’re perceived by future generations. Fuck the guys who had to actually deal with what your personal choices caused to happen.

Megatron wants to make amends with all those who were wronged by him. This doesn’t include being acquitted of his crimes, which, y’know, good- at least he’s being slightly realistic about how this is going to turn out for him.

What he wants to do is find Cyberutopia, so the Cybertronians have a replacement planet, since Cybertron kind of sucks now.

Oh, sorry, did I say realistic? I take it back.

In the present, Rodimus is still bummed out about being dead. Still, the day doesn’t stop just because it’s a bad one, and he calls in the experts.

CHROMEDOME YOU PROMISED TO STOP THIS SHIT

Yeah, no, Chromedome’s fallen off the wagon again, and does his thing on the coffin Rodimus. As he does, Megatron suddenly gets squeamish, Brainstorm pulls out his early early-warning device to lean on the fourth wall, and it’s revealed that the coffin that coffin Rodimus was in was built in the fashion of the Spectralist faith.

All Chromedome can suss out of coffin Rodimus’ memories is the really big important stuff, which includes the speech at Rivet’s Field inviting folks to come join the Knight Quest. Aww, that’s sweet.

With the analysis of the innermost energon complete, the results are in— the coffin Rodimus is a Rodimus. A real one, from the near future. Bummer.

I suppose denial is one of the seven stages of grief, isn’t it?

As everyone argues over whether or not Rodimus is going to die, Nightbeat brings up a good point— there aren’t any numbers carved into the coffin Rodimus’ hand. Rodimus is about to reveal some Ratchet-original wisdom, when things start getting really weird; whole sections of the Lost Light are disappearing.

Over at Swerve’s, Tailgate is regaling his peers with the story of his derring-do against Chief Justice Tyrest. Everyone is very impressed, and this includes our good buddy Getaway.

Jeez, think you’ve got enough antagonist shadows on this guy? It’s almost as if the art’s trying to tell us something about him.

Getaway lays it on real thick, saying that Tailgate could totally be the next Prime, with how courageous and awesome he is, all while completely ignoring Tailgate’s personal space and having a weirdly tiny hand. This seems to seriously bother Cyclonus, who is watching this shit go down from the doorway. Our purple space jet leaves once the drinks start being poured and conversation starts happening. God knows he hates talking about his insecurities.

Then the Pipes is Friggin’ Dead alarm goes off. But Pipes has been dead for a while now, so that must mean something else awful is happening.

Back during the trial, I guess because Optimus has a soft spot for Megatron, he allows him to join the Lost Light’s Knight Quest… even as he says that he could keep the guy locked up until Rodimus and pals find the Knights. However, there are rules to this, and one of the rules is that Megatron must publicly denounce the Decepticon cause.

It is a slow and painful experience for everyone involved, as he reads the statement he was given. It’s an immediate call to action- or rather, inaction.

Geez, think they could’ve made it any more obvious that this was being ghostwritten? I can’t wait to see how long it takes for “Megatron was blackmailed into saying this by the Autobots” to be a plotpoint.

Outside the prison, Ratchet and Rodimus are taking in the brand new Rod Pod, which is genuinely ridiculous in how large it is. Rodimus admits to having taken Atomizer’s list, though he knows that trying to use it to keep those who voted him off would be a pretty shitty thing to do.

Also, no one’s told him about Megatron coming along on the trip. As captain.

Or you could, I dunno, lock him up from the start. Or, if you want to give him a chance to prove himself, slap him into a bottom-rung role, like bilge cleaner, or sewage mucker, or whatever the equivalent would be on a spaceship full of giant gay robots. We don’t have to give the guy any power to hold him to scrutiny— any minimum wage worker will tell you that scrutiny comes far harsher for those who actually carry out orders than those who give them.

But what do I know? I’ve never fought in a several million year war, and I don’t plan to.

Getting back to the list, it seems as if Ratchet and Rodimus are on the same wavelength, in that both agree it’s only going to cause trouble and hurt feelings to keep the thing around. Rodimus destroys it with his usual flare, only to be blindsided by the fact that it was fake this entire time. How does Ratchet know this?

Because his name wasn’t on it.

...Man, that’s gotta sting. No wonder Rodimus was upset enough to not take his calls.

In the present, everyone’s in a panic, as they all bolt for the shuttle bay and start pouring into shuttles. The Lost Light is disintegrating around them, which is sort of a problem. Despite this nightmare scenario happening, Rodimus and Megatron still find the time to be assholes to each other. That’s dedication right there.

As the two bicker, multiple shuttles zip away from the rapidly disappearing ship, including the Rod Pod.

Man, now it really is the Lost Light.

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Your Move (Chibs x fem!Reader)

A/N: Unsuprisingly, I’m writing for SoA. It was just a matter of time until this new obsession caught up with me. This is my first attempt to write an accent phonetically, so I apologize in advance for the mess.

I also wanna thank @toomanystoriessolittletime​ and @penwieldingdreamer​ for beta’ing this for me and @ly--canthrope​ @wishuhadstayed​ and @chibsytelford​ for welcoming me to the SoA fam and encouraging me to write for it.

Summary: When you returned to Charming after your father passed away, you planned to only stay long enough to settle his affairs, but memories of the past and the prospect of a certain Scot in your future made you stay longer than planned.

Wordcount: 4,5K

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and inebriation and that’s it.

You knew the Sons of course.

There was no way to live in Charming your entire life and not know about them or at least some of them. You went to school with Jax and Opie and you remembered having such a crush on them, like most girls your age. They were the cool guys with their air of danger and the prospect leather cuts they wore every single day.

Your father warned you to stay away from them, as most parents would. The thing about the Sons was that they were a necessary evil to your small town, but it didn’t make them any less dangerous. Your father made sure to steer clear of them unless he absolutely needed it. You watched him seek out Clay Morrow once in a while if there was a problem in the diner, but it always pained him so much to do so.

You could see in his eyes, the exhaustion and barely contained shame whenever he had to have a sit down with the President of the MC. Always at the diner because he refused to go anywhere near the Teller-Morrow Garage.

He invested every cent he had to make sure you had a good education and could leave Charming for good. Do something he could never do in his own life and you appreciated that with all your heart but once he passed away and you had to come back to settle his affairs, sell the diner and the house and everything else, you found yourself caught up in the memories and the charms of the small town.

Everyone seemed to know you. Sometimes by name, most times as Allan’s kid. They paid their respects at the funeral, even the MC. You saw Gemma and Jax at the back and when your eyes caught the bright blue of the man Jackson had become, his lips tilting into a small, sympathetic smile in your direction, you didn’t feel the same butterflies as you used to when you were a teen.

He and his mother came closer after everyone else was gone. He still had that same sad smile placed in his face as Gemma pulled you into a hug that you didn’t really feel comfortable with, but didn’t know how to refuse.

“Allan was such a good man,” she said, pressing a kiss to your cheek and you could feel the lipstick imprint Gemma left behind. “Anything you need, sweetheart, just give us a call.” She handed you a Teller-Morrow business card, her number scribbled on the back.

“Thank you.” You nodded as they stepped away letting you go back to your grieving.

The diner was quick to sell. Your father, once he got sick, already found a buyer on call, you just needed to finalize the deal. The house was harder to do so. Not because you didn’t have people interested in it but because you couldn’t bring yourself to put it on the market. Not when there were so many childhood memories in it. This was the house you grew up in, where your father raised you to be the woman you were now. It was hard to let go of that, so you found yourself searching for reasons to delay your departure.

Separating possessions that would stay, be donated, sold, or thrown away. You started doing small repairs around the house, just like your father taught you because he wanted you to be as independent as possible. Taking off old, worn-out carpets and wallpapers, fixing the yard and clogged pipes, and closing off holes in the plaster walls.

Before long, a month had passed and you were still in Charming, only making weekend trips back to your apartment to bring more of the essentials with you. Even your cat had found residence in your father’s house, taking long naps in the porch bench, apparently much more comfortable with the small-town life than you expected.

Still, you had a hard time admitting that you didn’t intend to leave any time soon. Being in the house was a constant reminder that your father never wanted this life for you but at the same time, after spending the last 10 and something years in a big city, you had never felt more at home than when you got back here.

You were even painting again, something you haven’t done since you settled for a career as an art teacher. You were even more surprised when you opened up the yard sale and a couple of people ventured into the garage while you were distracted and asked about your paintings.

“They’re not really for sale,” you replied to a woman around your age, her dark hair falling over her shoulders in waves and she was so familiar, but you couldn’t place her in your memory.

“You should really think about selling them. Maybe even opening a gallery? They’re gorgeous.”

Her words stayed with you after the sale was done because it had always been your dream but in a big city, renting space was expensive and there were tons of small art galleries other there. It was hard to compete. In a town like Charming? It would be a place one of a kind.

The next morning, you found a small store for rent in the main street as you walked through the wide-open space, the morning bright light filtering through the half-closed blinds from the window, you could already see your works hanging around, the small counter with the cash register to the left and the backspace for your studio so you could work during slow days.

“I’ll take it.” The words were out before you could even think it through but once they passed your lips, you knew they were the right thing to do. You just needed officially move back to your hometown after so long away.

You took a week to go back to the city, pack up your belongings, and put in the moving truck. A few boxes of more personal stuff you loaded in your own battered old Chevy to bring with you on the drive back.

The car gave out in the middle of the night, still on the highway, miles away from Charming. The engine coughing and spluttering but refusing to start, no matter how many times you spun the key in the ignition. You had to settle for your fate and call a toll truck.

It was almost like destiny that when you pull out your phone from your pocket, the TM card fell out too and you didn’t even realize it had been there all this time. Gemma’s number in pen was washed out but the printed one for the garage was still visible so you dialed it. It wasn’t like you had another garage’s number on speed dial.

You waited at the side of the road for about 50 minutes until the headlights of the toll truck lightened up the night before pulling by your car and you couldn’t help the nervous flips of your stomach as the man stepped out of the car, in tight jeans and leather cut. His longish dark hair combed back, peppered with grey strands at his forehead and the goatee gave him such a distinguished look that you had a hard time not staring. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this attracted to someone at first sight.

“Ye called for a toll, lass?” he asked in a smooth drawl and thick accent that made shivers run down your spine, and for a second you couldn’t find your words.

“Uh… yeah, yes. I did,” you finally managed, glancing back to your car. Seemed to be the safest thing to do. “The old piece of junk died on me. Sorry for the hour.”

“No problem,” he waved off your apology, setting up to get your car secured in the back of the truck, before opening the door for you. “Come on, I give ye a lift.”

He helped you into the truck’s cabin, taking your hand in his gloved one like a perfect gentleman and closing the door behind you before he got behind the wheel and started the engine.

“Thank you so much, mister…”

“Nah, lassie. No mister required,” he offered you a soft smile and from this close, you could see the pale line of the scar in his cheek. “Chibs is fine.”

“Alright. thank you, Chibs,” you replied smiling too as he pulled into the road and turned the radio into a classic rock station.

You remained in silence for most of the ride, sneaking glances at the man next to you. Had he been in Charming all those years ago? Before you left? Why didn’t you remember him? How many times had you seen the Sons riding through the main street in their Harleys and leather cuts? You would probably have seen him before. Then again, back then your eyes tended to seek out Jax’s slender form due to your stupid teen crush. Maybe that was why you missed him.

“Mind if I smoke?” Chibs asked, startling you out of your thoughts.

You shook your head, feeling the heat of embarrassment burning your face as you tried to ignore the way his lips closed around the cigarette and how his long fingers operated the lighter.

The flame lit up his face for a brief second, reflected in his deep, dark eyes and you had to look away, clearing your throat. You never felt this awkward and uncertain in the presence of man, so you raked your brain for something to break the tense silence.

“Why Chibs?” You blurted out before you could stop yourself and he chuckled, the sound low and husky and it went straight to your center, making you press your legs together as discreetly as you could.

“It a Scottish slang,” he started, glancing your way as he took a deep drag of his cigarette. “For knife.”

“Oh,” you replied dumbly, mulling over his words. “Because of…?” Unconsciously, you reached for your cheek and froze in shock at your own insensitive action. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean…”

“It’s alright, love,” he chuckled again as he slowed down the truck and you didn’t even notice he was dropping you off at home until you recognized the construction in front of you. “I dinna mind. And yes, that’s why. Bu’ Filip works too.”

“Thank you, Filip,” you spoke softly, meeting his eyes and he smiled around his smoke and nodded. “I’ll drop by TM tomorrow morning to settle everything?”

“Aye. I’ll let Gem know.”

You hesitated to step out of the truck, and you didn’t even know why. You just didn’t want to leave. Not yet, but there was no reason to stay. So you resigned with doing what needed to be done and watching as he drove away before finally getting inside the house.

Next morning, you took your dad’s old Jeep – and how lucky it was that you hadn’t sold it just yet – and headed to TM to settle payment for the toll and get the cost for the work.

While Gemma was ruffling through some papers trying to find your invoice, you let your gaze wander through the open side door towards the garage, noticing the men in overalls talking and joking while working.

“He’s not here,” Gemma said, startling you to turn back and meet her narrowed eyes. You wondered how she could possibly know. “Jax.”

“Oh!” Relief washed over you and you managed a timid smile. “I wasn’t…”

“And he’s back with Tara.”

There was a clear warning in her tone, almost as if saying you shouldn’t dare to try and intervene between the couple, not that you would want to. She finally handed you the paper so you could sign it, authorizing the service.

“How soon can I expect the car?”

“Maybe a week? Might be more,” Gemma replied, pulling the paper back and giving you a long look. “There were some boxes in the truck… You’re uh, staying in Charming, then?”

“Yeah…” it was the first time you said it out loud and it felt almost like a confession. “I am. The moving truck should be arriving soon so can I drop by later to pick them up?”

“I’ll get one of the prospects to bring them to you,” the older woman declared after an assessing look. Like she was measuring you up, making sure if you were worthy of her town.

You just offered a quick thanks and headed off, resisting the urge to glance behind your shoulder at the men working on the cars or the side building that housed the club. Even if you could feel the baby hairs in your nape prickling due to an intense gaze at your back. If it was Gemma or someone else, you didn’t find out.

The entire thing slipped from your mind by the time you got home and found the moving truck already waiting for you. The rest of your day was spent moving boxes and furniture to their designated spaces, making sure the movers didn’t break anything with their careless demeanors.

It was late afternoon when they finally brought everything in and took off, leaving you to sort out the mess. Just the sight of scattered boxes all through the wooden floor of the two-store house was enough to make you regret your decision. It would take you days to get everything in order and that on top of making sure your gallery was up and running too.

“Better get to it,” you whispered to yourself, tuning in the radio and letting the melodic beats of Pat Benatar set the tone for your work. And if you sang along and danced around the house through it all, well there wasn’t anyone around to see it, even if no curtains were covering the windows just yet.

The knock on the door made you jump midway through setting the cutlery in place and you lowered the radio before making your way through the maze of boxes, your lips tugging into a surprised smile when you found Chibs standing outside, cigarette in his mouth, sunglasses covering his eyes.

“Hia, lass. Gem asked me to deliver some boxes?” he explained, and you smirked, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest as you examined the biker in front of you.

“Gemma asked you?” you repeated, brow arched. “Sounds more like a prospect job…”

“Might ‘ave volunteered,” Chibs admitted, his smirk matching yours. “Memory’s a little fuzzy on the details.”

With a chuckle, you stepped aside to let him in offering quick instructions of where to put the boxes while you watch him move around. This time, there was no leather jacket below his cut, only a sleeveless shirt, and you could appreciate the flexing of his muscles and the ink adorning his skin as Chibs worked.

“That’s the last one,” he said, setting the box down by the door and meeting your gaze.

“Thank you. I really appreciate the help.”

He waved off your gratitude and silence fell over the two of you, thick and heavy like a blanket of all the things unsaid. In your brightly lid living room, you could properly see Chibs’ face and his dark eyes watching you as if waiting for something, a sign maybe, but you didn’t know what to do. Had you always been so bad at this? Or was just his presence that seemed to strip you from all functional reasoning?

“I, uh…” you looked around, searching for what to say or do. “Wanna drink?”

“Sure.”

Chibs followed you into the kitchen and you were very aware of his presence behind you like a shadow as you stopped by the fridge, pulling out two beers and offering him one. You drank in silence, watching one another and you wished you could explain why this felt so strange. You wished you could make the tension and awkwardness fade away, but you didn’t really know how and Chibs didn’t seem inclined to help.

Then again, he did take the first step, coming all the way here with your boxes to see you and he wasn’t even trying to hide or deny it. It was your move but just his mere presence made you freeze and you didn’t know what to do, how to show him you were glad he came and wanted him to stay a little longer.

All you could do was watch him, the way his lips fit around the tan glass of the bottle as he took a gulp of the drink, his throat working as he swallowed. You wondered if Chibs knew how effortlessly sexy he was. How just having him leaning against the counter watching you with that heavy-lidded gaze was enough to make your knees weak and your breath speed up.

“I should head off,” he finally broke the silence, setting his empty bottle on the counter and you felt your heart sink. “Get out of yer hair…”

“Right…” you followed him to the door, hands in your pockets. “Thanks again.”

“No problem, love.” Chibs paused outside, his eyes lingering on you. “Ye know, the clubhouse has a bar. Ye could stop by some time.”

“Yeah,” you hurried to say with a nervous smile. You almost thought he had given up on you but here he was, throwing you a line. “Sure.”

“Good,” he smiled too. “‘Night, love.”

You watched once again Chibs driving off from your place until he disappeared around the corner before you stepped back inside, leaning against the closed door. It was your move and knew. You just had to figure out a way to actually take that step.

A week passed since Chibs’ invitation and you had yet to find the courage to meet him at the clubhouse. At first, you told yourself it was because of the move. You were busy getting the house in shape and then your gallery but you knew you were lying to yourself.

You were just afraid. Torn between wanting to learn a little more about the mysterious Scot that didn’t seem to leave your mind and knowing that going there, getting mixed with the Sons was getting yourself involved with a crowd your father worked so hard to keep you away from. Those two sides seemed to be at war, and you didn’t know what do to.

You knew, however, that the longer you waited, the more you made it clear to Chibs that you might not be interested, even if you were definitely were. So you needed to make a decision. Soon.

When you finally worked up the nerve to go to the clubhouse, you spent hours deliberating on an outfit. You wanted to look good but not like you were trying too hard because you knew what you were going to find there.

Several of your high school friends had sneaked in at some point to check out the Sons’ official hangout and report back. You knew there would be the club members, of course, and other friends, but most importantly, there would be other women, croweaters.

The expression always made you grimace in distaste, the implications clear in the pejorative tone used and it made you stop and consider if you weren’t exactly like them, chasing away a biker you knew nothing about.

The thought was almost enough to make you give up, turn around and go back to your car but you were already there at the garage, might as well bite the bullet and do this. With a deep breath, you crossed the parking lot, the heel of your boots crunching the cement as you walked toward the clubhouse, hands in the pockets of your jacket, out of sight so no one could see them tremble with your apprehension.

When you walked into the smoky room, you were almost expecting to see all eyes on you, the outsider in their territory, but no one paid you any attention as you surveyed the space, searching for Chibs. He was nowhere in sight and the longer you stood there, awkward and afraid, the urge to flee grew in your chest. You shouldn’t even have come.

Turning around to walk out, you ran straight into the solid chest of the man you came here to find. Chibs held you steady with a hand on your elbow, watching you with curious eyes.

“Leavin’ so soon, lass?” he asked, his voice a smooth drawl and it set your body on edge, in a good way.

“Yeah, I, uh,” you glanced around at people dancing and drinking and making out in front of everyone, verging on indecent exposure. “Didn’t really seem like I belonged.”

“Give it a chance, love,” he said with a smirk and offering you a hand. “Ye might actually enjoy yerself. How ‘bout a drink?”

“Ok,” you accepted after a moment’s hesitation, taking Chibs’ hand and letting him lead you to the bar.

A drink turned into several and before you knew it, you were playing pool against a guy named Tig, barely being able to stay upright but still managing to be the better player of the two of you to Chibs’ great amusement and loud heckling.

“You’re sure he’s not just letting me win?” You asked Chibs as he brought you another shot of whiskey, chuckling as you winced and pulled a face after downing it the shot. You had just won yet another round against Tig and his annoyed, barely conscious face was very amusing.

“‘M surprised he managin’ to hold on to his cue,” he commented as he took your cue and handed it over to the first person around. “How ‘bout some air? Sober ye up a bit?”

Chibs led you into the cold night air of the yard and to the picnic tables outside. Out there, you two were completely alone except for the stars and the random passing car but it was late enough that the town was mostly silent, the only sounds coming from inside the clubhouse, the music leaking out muffled due to the soundproof walls.

There were just the two of you, sitting side by side as Chibs lid a cigarette, and before he could even take a drag, you snatched out of his lips, bringing it to your own, making him smirk. The alcohol had dissolved most of your reservations, leaving only you desire for the man next to you.

“Bigge’ men 'ave lost fingers stealin’ ma smoke, lass,” Chibs commented, turning his body towards you.

“Good thing, I’m just a little lass, then,” you teased, trying to mimic his Scottish drawl as you shifted your position until you were straddling the bench and facing him.

“Wee lassie,” he corrected, watching intently as you took a drag of his cigarette and puffed out the smoke.

You liked this, being alone with Chibs. Having his dark eyes focused on you and only you. Being close enough that you could smell the whiskey, leather, and the heady sweat of his skin. Feel the heat of his body. You reached over to trail the black Reaper etched on his biceps, daring to touch without asking permission first.

As Chibs allowed the touch, you grew bolder and moved closer, letting your fingers travel higher, over his shoulder and on his neck, until your thumb brushed his jaw and cheek, touching the rough stubble beginning to grow there.

His own palm had settled over your clothed thigh, large and hot, making you acutely aware of how close you two were and how it would barely take a move for your lips to find his. You wanted that more than anything. Chibs had to know that, right? He had to see it in your eyes.

“Ye should head home, lass,” he said instead, pulling away from you and you felt the loss of his heat. “'t’s gettin’ late.” Then you felt the burning shame as he refused to look at you.

“Yes,” you croaked, eyes darting around at anything other than him. “You’re right.”

You had put yourself out there for this man and he was shipping you off like unwanted cargo. You didn’t even know why.

“I’ll get one of the prospects to drive ye, just…”

“It’s fine,” you didn’t let Chibs finish, getting to your feet and stepping back. “I brought my Jeep. I can drive myself.”

You walked away before he could say anything else because you could feel the familiar lump in your throat and the burning behind your lids. The last thing you wanted was to cry in front of him. You already made a fool out of yourself enough for one night.

You were almost at the car when you stumbled on your own feet. Fortunately, you never met the ground as a strong arm surrounded your waist, keeping you upright and pressed against his strong chest. You could feel his breath tickling your nape as both of you stood there, neither daring to move.

“If I ‘ere a good man, I’d let ye walk away,” Chibs sighed and you sagged against his warmth, letting him inhale your scent on your neck before you turned around to face him, hands resting against his chest.

“Maybe I don’t want you to be a good man,” you whispered, looking up at him. “Maybe I just want you to kiss me.”

His lips were softer than you expected, just a gentle press against yours the whiskers of his goatee tickling your skin. It was almost as if Chibs weren’t really sure if he should do this. Like he was giving you the chance to pull away and change your mind.

Your fisted his vest, pushing closer to him, pressing harder against his lips in search of more. Letting your own lips part in invitation and soon enough, his tongue was exploring your mouth, tangling with yours, bringing forth the taste of whiskey, nicotine, and something dark and addictive that you could have for the rest of your life.

One hand on your hip, the other on your nape, adjusting the angle of your head so he could better deepen the kiss, Chibs pressed you against the cool metal of your Jeep, his body crowding yours, one of his thighs between your legs as he devoured your mouth.

Everything seemed to fade away then but the taste of his lips and the touch of his hands on your skin, burning a bright fire within you as his calloused hand sneaked under your shirt, exploring your back, his rings catching lightly on your skin, making you shiver as he nipped at your bottom lip and allowed you a second for breath.

“Go home,” Chibs grumbled, his lids even heavier than usual as he peered at you with what you could only describe as bedroom eyes. “Before ye do somethin’ ye might regret at the light of day and without the haze of alcohol.”

You paused, considering his words, licking your lips as if to chase the aftertaste of his kiss.

“And if come tomorrow morning, stone-cold sober, I still want this?”

“Ye know where to find me.” Chibs let his lips brushed over yours one last time, just a small temptation of what he could offer before he took a step back and pulled the car door open for you. “‘Night, lass.”

“Good night, Filip.”

xxx

[onceuponaloonatic]

just a little something i meant to post days ago oops 

Sana should be happy Nico was in such a good mood. The girl had been feeling all the bad vibes her parents had for the past few weeks and it had definitely been putting a damper on her mood. And while Sana had been worried about her, there was too much going on otherwise that she was sort of distracted. But now that her parents had been out for a month with no attempt to contact her, she was starting to feel a bit more comfortable. And now she was just feeling bad for missing out on time with her favorite little girl.

Admittedly, her last few weeks hadn’t been great. Every time she went out she was paranoid she would run into her parents. She would obsessively lock all of the doors every time she was at home, and she had even bought better home security for them. She couldn’t help it, she was so paranoid about everything. Mina and Jihyo had been absolute angels in helping her. Jihyo drove her to therapy and always made sure she was eating enough and doing well. Mina would check in on her every night and hold her when she wasn’t feeling great. Even if Mina was still recovering from her depressive episode, she was still looking after Sana the best she could, and Sana had been so thankful for that. Thankful for her. And thankful to Jihyo too. But during all that paranoia and restlessness she hadn’t been able to spend much time with her daughter. 

Sana would admit, at first Nico being in a great mood had been amazing. She missed spending time with her daughter like this where both of them are able to enjoy it without their minds on something else, but she did get tired eventually. 

“Mommy!” When Sana came to pick Nico up from school, her daughter had jumped on her. Literally. “Oof hi baby.” Sana giggled, instantly moving to hug Nico and pick her up. “How was your day?” “I got jellies mommy!” Nico said excitedly, practically bouncing in Sana’s arms. “Oh yeah? That’s great. Let’s go say bye bye to your teacher, okay?” Sana asked, moving towards Nico’s teacher. “Hello, thanks for all your hard work today.” Sana always said that to Nico’s teacher. Her daughter’s teacher worked hard, and Sana was always sure to thank her for it. “Of course. Nico did great today. During recess we played candyland and then during class Nico won our addition competition. She got every question correct.” Nico’s teacher smiled at how much Nico was squirming around. “Uh-hum! I got jellies!” Nico smiled. “Yeah you did.” The teacher giggled. “Well it seems like today was a great day. Nico we need to get home, auntie Momo is making us dinner.” “Really?!” Nico asked excitedly. “Uh-hum. Mama and Ka-san are both going to be working late and Auntie Nayeon is with your cousins at their grandmother's house.” “Yay!” Nico giggled. “Yup, it’ll be fine. Say thank you and goodbye to Miss Kim, okay Nico?” 

“Bye bye Miss Kim!” Nico said excitedly. “Bye Nico-ya. See you tomorrow.” The teacher waved as Sana carried them out of the classroom. Nico cuddled closer to Sana, wrapping her arms around Sana’s neck. “I missed you mommy.” Nico smiled. “Baby you saw me this morning.” Sana giggled, carefully fishing her keys out of her pocket to unlock her car. “I know. Still missed you.” Nico smiled. “Wel I missed you too princess. Let’s hurry home and maybe Auntie Momo will let us watch Totoro with her after dinner.” Sana tapped Nico’s nose. “Yes! Totoro!” xx 

Momo made them yakisoba for dinner, and Nico loved eating it. Sana was just thankful Momo was able to come over and cook, she hated relying on take out as much as she did when Jihyo and Mina weren’t home. Plus, Sana liked the company. Even if she was feeling better, there was still that paranoia from her parents. So having company really helped lighten her mood. “I heard you got some jellies today kiddo.” Momo mentioned over dinner. “Uh-hum. I got every question right.” Nico smiled, taking another bite of her noodles. “That’s great Nic! Your mommy has always been bad at math, do you like it?” “I teach physics Momo.” Sana rolled her eyes. “I’m great at math.”

“I love math Auntie. Miss Kim says I’m the best at it.” Nico giggled. “That's amazing kiddo.” Momo smiled. “You’ll probably have your mom beaten soon.” “Really?” “Sorry baby. I went to college and learned a lot of math. But if you ever decide you like physics, mommy can teach you it in the future.” Sana giggled, reaching for a napkin to clean off Nico’s face. Nico smiled at her and resumed eating messily. Since Nico was so picky, Momo had made her special yaki soba with just chicken, noodles, sauce, and mushrooms. Nico had recently discovered she loved mushrooms, after finally relenting to trying them when Kazumi convinced her they were going to make her tall. She fell in love and now asked for them in almost everything they made, even if there were times it seemed a bit odd. 

“Mommy said we could watch Totoro.” Nico said after a bit. “Oh yeah? Well I would love to watch Totoro with you.” Momo smiled. “We could get some popcorn, and some jellies.” “Yes!” Nico was practically bouncing in her chair. “Only if you eat all of your food though okay?” Momo prompted. “Okay!” “Momo we don’t have any popcorn or candy, Mina doesn’t like it when we keep that stuff in the house.” Sana pointed out. “It’s okay, we can walk to the convenience store. I’ll pay.” Momo offered. “You really don’t have to-”

“Nonsense. It was my idea.” Momo nodded. “Anyway, Nico be sure to eat all your food so you can have more jellies.” “Okay!”

xx 

Nico was practically skipping the whole way to the convenience store. Sana made sure to keep a tighter grip on her than usual, just to be sure she didn’t run off. After buying Nico’s favorite candy and some microwave popcorn. Momo goes to set up the movie while Sana and Nico make the popcorn. “How come Ka-san doesn’t like popcorn?” Nico asked as Sana put the popcorn in the microwave. Nico pulled on her hand, holding her arms out to be picked up so she could see the popcorn in the microwave. 

“Ka-san doesn’t dislike popcorn, it’s just not good for us. Popcorn is like candy, it’s a special treat.” Sana explained. “Oh. I like popcorn.” Nico mentioned, looking closer at the popcorn. “Yeah me too.” Sana smiled, kissing Nico’s cheek. She didn’t know why, but seeing Nico excitedly watch the popcorn was just making her melt. It was just so cute, she couldn’t help it.

“Pop!” Nico smiled when the popcorn started going off.

“Pop.” Sana repeated with a smile. Once it was ready Sana put it in a bowl and brought it over to Momo, who immediately held up a candy for Nico. “Jelly!” Nico smiled. “Thank you Auntie Momo.” “Of course Nico.” Momo smiled. “Now come cuddle with Auntie.” Nico excitedly climbed into Momo’s lap, Momo wrapping her arms around her. Sana knew what Momo was doing. She and Nayeon had both been looking into adopting another baby recently. From what she understood, they were looking for a kid slightly older than Nico, but Momo was still using Nico as a bit of practice. Their kids hadn’t been little in a while, and Momo had always been self conscious about spending time around kids. Momo always talked about how perfect Nayeon was with kids, and how much she doubted herself. Sana always tried to reassure her that she was great, but even after raising three kids, she was still unsure of herself sometimes. After the movie, Momo has to leave to facetime Nayeon and her kids. 

“Auntie Momo has to go?” Nico asked, hugging Momo tighter. “Sorry kiddo, I need to go talk to Nayeon and your cousins.” Momo explained. “Okay…” Nico nodded. “Here, give the jellies to Neul Unnie, Jae Oppa, and Zumi Unnie.” Nico handed Momo the rest of her bag of candy Momo had bought her. “Oh Nico this is your candy-”

“It’s for Unnies and Oppa.” Nico nodded. 

“Okay.” Momo sighed, accepting it. “I’ll see you tomorrow Sana?” Sana nodded, kissing Momo’s cheek. “See you tomorrow Momo.” Sana smiled. “Bye bye Auntie Momo!” Nico waved, giving Momo a tighter hug before letting go and moving back to Sana’s side. “Let’s go take a bath, yeah?” Sana offered. Nico nodded, practically buzzing from all the sugar she had just consumed with the popcorn. 

This is where things started to go wrong. Nico was on a sugar high, a bad one. And Sana was just trying to give her a bath. 

“And and during class Somi was telling me that she’s going to be Elsa tomorrow! We can wear whatever we want tomorrow!” “Oh yeah?” Sana hummed, trying to get Nico’s strawberry body wash onto her, however she kept squirming, which was making it difficult. “Uh-hum! Can I be Elsa too?” Nico asked. “No no wait, I want to be Totoro!” “You don’t want to be a princess?” Sana asked.

“No totoro!” Nico insisted. “Totoro has big hugs and I want big hugs like Totoro! Or mommy!” “Aw thanks sweetie.” Sana sighed. SHe was running out of energy fast. She wasn’t normally like this around Nico, normally she had an almost endless amount of mom energy. But today, she was just tired. She had been emotionally exhausted for the past few weeks and she had given two three hour lectures today before going to get Nico. And right now, she was just starting to get tired fast. And Nico’s fidgeting was not making it any easier. “And-and I want totoro lunch! With mush-mush, chickin, and rice.” Nico explained. It was adorable how she said mushroom, but Sana was fading too fast to do her normal cooing over her baby. “Okay. We can tell Ka-san when she gets home.” Sana hummed, still trying to get Nico still enough to put her body wash on. 

“Hu-um. And I also want strawberries and watermelon. And and can we see Auntie Chaeng and Auntie Tzuyu tomorrow? I drew a picture of Auntie Chaeyoung’s body drawings! And I want to see Emi Unnie. She lets me draw body art on her!” Sana was happy to see Nico this animated. She was just tired. “I can see if we can go see them.” Sana nodded, finally getting Nico still enough to put body wash on her. Nico was still talking and Sana was just half listening. She knew that was awful, and that’s not how she normally was with Nico. She just wasn’t in the right headspace. Not yet.

“Having fun?” Sana nearly started crying when she heard Mina’s voice. She looked up, seeing her wife leaning against the doorframe to Nico’s bathroom. “Ka-san is home!” “Yeah, I can see someone had a little sugar.” Nico giggled.

“I got lots of jellies.” Nico informed.

“Lots huh? Sounds fun.” Mina smiled. “Now let mommy finish off your bath.” Mina giggled at Sana’s struggle. Nico finally was still enough for Snaa to finish, and once she was done Sana wrapped her up in a towel hug. By this point, Nico’s energy was fading, fast. “Sleepy?” Sana asked, dressing Nico up in her favorite pink pajamas. “Nu-uh.” Nico nodded. “Let’s go see Ka-san, okay?” Nico nodded, following Sana out of the bathroom and towards their bedroom. Mina was on the bed, scrolling through her phone. “Ka-san!” Nico hugged Mina. “Hey baby.” Mina smiled, kissing Nico’s head. “I got this. Go take a rest.” Mina mouthed to Sana. Sana smiled at her, watching Nico cuddle closer to Mina. She nodded, moving to Mina’s other side to cuddle her. “Ka-san, story?” “Sure. I’ll go get one.” Mina hummed. “Be right back.” Nico fell asleep in the middle of the story, cuddling as close to two of her moms as possible. Mina and Sana both smiled, kissing Nico before tucking her into their big bed. “Thanks Mitang.” Sana sighed once they were in the living room.

“Of course.” Mina smiled. “Wine?” “Sure.” Sana nodded. “Still, I love her so much but I’m just- a little tired.” “You haven’t been on mom duty for a while now, it’s okay.” Mina smiled, moving to prepare two glasses of wine. “She’s not too bad though.” “No, just when Momo and I give her candy.” Sana smiled.

“That's why she doesn’t get candy.” Mina reached out for Sana’s hand. Sana held Mina’s hand tightly, giving her a small smile. “She has been doing better lately. She even started eating mushrooms.” “I know. I’m so proud of her.” Sana smiled. “When is Hyo going to be home?” “She said less than an hour.” Mina mentioned. “I can’t wait.” Sana moved to cuddle Mina. Mina wrapped her arms around Sana, holding her tight. “I missed mommy Nico time, but you know what I missed just as much?” “What?” “Misana time.” Sana smiled. “And once Hyo gets here it will be perfect.” “I can’t wait.” 

[exauhstedsunflower]

I Am Very Proud Of You

For @cynicalrainbows, a one shot featuring the idea that Catalina feels left out of mom!Jane’s pride in her so called kids.

This got long.

It’s been a while since the queens have reincarnated. They’ve long since passed most of their personal issues. They even settled in nicely to the current century. Anne and Kitty got jobs, working in a flower shop just down the road. Anna has picked up several volunteer shifts at a local animal shelter. Cathy is a tutor for adults at the neighborhood library. And Catalina works at a daycare, decidedly liking modern day kids over modern day adults. (They have all of the curiosity and none of the disbelief in her legitimacy as a former queen of England.)

And Jane, well, Jane is a stay at home mother. Kind of.

They live in the suburbs in a place where cost of living is pretty low, Kitty, Anne and Catalina make enough to cover their more indulgent purchases. Whereas the rest is covered by some anonymous donor, who they think is the reason they are even alive. There is no reason for Jane to have to get a job herself. Not to say she doesn’t have hobbies, she does occasionally visit the local art supplies stores, and sometimes she goes to the animal shelter with Anna. But she does actually prefer to stay home as an introvert.

As she does stay home most of the time, she takes up most of the household chores. She cleans, she cooks, she makes sure that there is order where there would normally be chaos. This also means that she’s taken on the more maternal place in the house. The others rely on her, whether they were reluctant to in the beginning or not.

Her biggest maternal habit is validating the other queens. She spent a lot of time in her last life being put down- they all had. The least she can do whilst being the glue that keeps their little family together is to make sure they all know they are doing great given the circumstances.

It’s a rather chaotic morning, she’s been running around like crazy. They all have, but her in particular trying to get everyone ready for the day.

“Jane!”

That’s Anne, upstairs and probably looking for her jacket, which is hanging on the end of the railing at the lower level.

“Down here love, come and get your jacket before you and Kitty are late!”

She speeds down, almost crashing into Anna, who’s rifling through her bag with a piece of toast in her mouth. When she asks what the woman is looking for, she seems to forget about the toast. Jane reaches out and catches it in a moment of astounding reflexes.

“Ah! Don’t get crumbs all over my carpet, please.”

“Sorry! Have you seen my-“

“Jane! I can’t find my-“

“Kitty! I found-“

“Cathy, you-!”

Jane snorts, leave it to those two to have half conversations and still understand each other.

“What is it, Anna?”

She snaps back to attention, having been distracted by the yelling upstairs. Impressive how those two have the capacity to be that loud given the way they haven’t slept in two days. Yes, Jane knows. And yes, Jane will be intervening if they try to make it a third.

“My wallet, I can’t find my wallet.”

“Have you checked the hoodie you wore yesterday?”

“Shi- Crap,” Anna quickly corrects herself in Jane’s presence, “I forgot about that, let me check.”

She races off to check the coat closet, which is where she’s stuck most of her hoodies in an attempt for space in her own closet.

It doesn’t take long for Jane to find something else to focus on. Anne is currently making an attempt to find her snack pack for the day. Now, this is something that unlike what you might think, is not Jane’s doing. She does not pack lunches and snacks for the women in the house, if they want that they can do so themselves. Jane places Anna’s toast on a paper towel and decides to help.

“Isn’t it in the lower cabinet? Could’ve sworn you all changed where you keep them.”

“Oh! We did!

She finds her bag, likely filled with sweets, and stuffs the sandwich she was making and a water bottle into it. Then she does the same for the three others.

“Oh, you’re making lunch for everyone.” She observes.

“Yeah, everyone’s running a bit late this morning and I’m ready. So, might as well.”

Jane smiles, “I’m proud of you. That’s really sweet.”

Anne immediately flushes and thanks her bashfully, she never did get used to the praise.

Kitty then runs into the room, claiming she is ready to go.

Her outfit is a little different today. But, also, Kitty’s outfits are always a little different. Today it’s red lumberjack pattern leggings and a green sweater. There are several silver accessories that compliment her choker with a silver ‘K’ charm hanging off of it. Her hair is in a messy bun, unlike yesterday when it was straightened.

“Jeez kid, is it Christmas already?”

Jane rolls her eyes at Anne’s comment. “I think you look cute, good job Kit.”

The girl beams at the compliment. Her sense of style has been a way of expressing autonomy, a way of showing that she has full control over her body. Jane is incredibly proud that the girl has found something to help her deal with her past trauma in a healthy way. Even if it means questionable but admittedly cute fashion choices.

Cathy and Anna pass by Jane, grabbing their lunches with a quick thanks to Anne. Anna is holding her wallet, so Jane supposes it was in fact in the pocket of her hoodie. Cathy grabs a to-go cup and fills it with coffee.

“Cathy, thank you for being the only one to not scream for me this morning. I’m proud. But have we got any sugar for your coffee?”

Jane doesn’t remember buying any, but she does recall running out yesterday.

“I picked some up on the way home, it’s in the top left cabinet.” Anna supplies.

“That’s great, Anna. Thank you.” Jane is using her Proud Mom Voice. Anna also gets a lot of praise from Cathy, who forgot to buy more and was about to have to drink bitter coffee. (Not that she would have minded, but she prefers it to be a bit sweeter during the day. Black coffee is for night time.) She also smiles at Jane for her comment on her independence.

With the coffee made, and everything needed for the day found, it’s time for them all to head out. Anne and Kitty can walk, and Anna drives Cathy to the library on her way to the shelter. Sometimes Jane walks with her cousins to the shop. She’ll pick up a bouquet for the house or a new plant for the garden and that’ll give her something to do for about a half hour of being home. But today she’s not feeling up for the walk, even if it is just down the road.

She does a headcount of everyone and mentally goes through the list of things to be done in the mornings. Everyone’s lunches are made. Anne and her things, Kitty and her choker, Anna and her bag, Cathy and her coffee, Catalina-

Catalina isn’t down yet. She drives the other car, so it’s not much of a hold up for the rest. They all attempt to grab something small to eat to take with them as Jane wonders where the oldest queen is.

Her relationship with Catalina is a little different. Catalina’s the oldest, the most regal and independent, she doesn’t need a mother. And while Jane has proudly claimed the mom friend title, she doesn’t want to cross any boundaries.

Of course she still checks in on her every once in a while, but she’s not as forthcoming in the mothering with her. They both seem rather content with the arrangement, seeing as they’re both the more mature one’s in the house. They tend to be the one taking care of the others, not being taken care of.

Just as Jane is about to check in to make sure Catalina is alright, the woman arrives amongst the rest. She looks a little happier than usual.

“Sorry for the hold up, I was caught up doing something.”

Jane’s about to ask what, but Cathy beats her to it.

“Oh, it’s nothing really. Just finished applying for that child care class.”

Everyone cheers. That’s something Catalina’s been putting off for a while now. She hasn’t done it yet in fear of being rejected or putting herself in a situation she’s not prepared for.

But this is a great step! Because Catalina’s end goal is to open her own daycare center, and having the credentials to back it is super helpful. And she’s already flushed at the reaction that she got, so maybe that's why when Jane places a hand on her arm and says she’s proud of her, Catalina freezes.

It was an instinct, honest. She’d never do that on purpose, it's quite honestly probably a little patronizing to the woman she holds in such high regard. It’s just that she’s been praising all of the rest of the queens all morning and she’s still in that mindset.

She pulls her hand away slowly, and Catalina shakes her head as if she’s trying to clear some thoughts, and they move on.

“Right, so, everyone out! You’ll all be late at this rate.”

Jane herds the rest to the door, seeing Catalina linger for a moment. But she catches Jane's eye and seems to brace herself before walking toward the door herself. Jane does not ask if she’s okay, she doesn’t want to overstep again.

“You all got ready and you’ll probably be on time! Great job, love you all, see you later!”

She gets a chorus of “Bye Mum!” back from all except one. A common joke among the queens, based on her role in the house. It honestly fills her with pride though, so she never refutes the moniker.

Jane tries to catch Catalina on her way out to wish her a good day; but the woman dodges her and races to her own car, leaving Jane worried she offended her friend.

-

Catalina presses submit and leans back in her chair with a deep breath. This is a big step for her. It’s a good thing, but it’s also a commitment. It does help with her long term plans though, so she’s willing to do it.

The class would only take her seven months to complete, and it’s all something she’s invested in, it shouldn't be this scary to start. But it is, and she can’t help but resent that she has no support.

She shakes that thought away as soon as it comes. Of course she has support. The queens are very supportive. She knows that when she tells them she finally applied they’ll all be very happy for her.

Happy, not proud.

She shouldn’t feel that way. She should be happy that she’s been given this second chance, happy that she’s able to spend it with her loving family. And she is! But she can’t help but feel slightly excluded.

“Jane!”

Catalina has half a mind to tell them to leave the poor woman alone. They’ve been calling for her all morning. But she does seem to enjoy that they need her so.

“Down here love, come and get your jacket before you and Kitty are late!”

“Jane! I can’t find-“

“Kitty, I found-“

She could never call for Jane like that. It’s more than likely she’d be judged for it. No, she’s independent. She’s the oldest, she doesn’t need Jane to take care of her. And honestly she does prefer to take care of herself. It’s not that that bothers her though.

It’s just that Jane always seems proud. Consistently, someone in the house is making her proud. Whether it be something small, like making a phone call; or something big, like getting their licenses. Jane always finds something to be proud of when it comes to all of the queens.

All except Catalina.

She’s honestly tried everything. She’s done the small things like make a big deal out of something menial and then finally doing it, to no avail.

(“Catalina, weren’t you supposed to make that call three days ago?”

Catalina bites her lip, hoping.

“Yeah, but it was making me nervous so I kept putting it off.”

That’s not even a lie. Catalina does in fact have a bit of anxiety surrounding phone calls. But usually she'd rather die than admit a fear. She hopes to receive some sort of reassurance out of this, as she’d had a rough week and this was pretty difficult. But instead she gets a frown.

“You shouldn’t put stuff like that off. If you need help with a phone call just ask.”)

Then she tried acting out, which truthfully made her feel quite childish and stupid. It didn’t work like it seems to work for Kitty or Anne, who Jane seems to have a soft spot for. But they’re family, Catalina reminds herself, real family.

(“I don’t wanna.”

Jane furrows her eyebrows, “What do you mean you don’t want to? You’ve been asking to cook this for weeks! I even set aside the ingredients.”

“Well, I changed my mind. I’m not cooking.”

She doesn’t get a gentle goading into whatever it is she changed her mind about suddenly, like Cathy or Anna would. No, this bout of unnecessary refusal to help out with dinner just lands her in hot water with Jane, who was already feeling a little stressed.

“All I ask is-“

Jane’s rant lasted about thirty minutes, and Catalina felt much like a child who was chided for disobedience all night.)

Needless to say, although she does acknowledge it in her head, Jane does not care for Catalina in the way she cares for the others. They do have a friendship, but Catalina does not receive the same type of love.

And it’s fine, totally fine.

Just that Catalina doesn’t quite want to face Jane this morning. Because she just did something really significant and if she has to face being treated unequal to the others when she mentions it she might have to go back to bed.

But she is happy she’s done it now. It’s like a weight has been lifted off of her shoulders, she’s been putting this off for so long now that she’d never thought she would do it. One of the other daycare workers had convinced her yesterday to do it as soon as she got home, and she put it off until this morning. She couldn’t just go into work and face that person saying she didn’t do it, could she? And so she did.

With that sudden burst of happiness after her anxiety, she prepares to face the chaos waiting for her downstairs. She’s already heard them all congregate to the kitchen, maybe she can grab a pop tart before leaving.

“Cathy, thank you for being the only one to not scream for me this morning. I’m proud. But have we got any sugar for your coffee?”

“I picked some up on the way home, it’s in the top left cabinet.”

“That’s great, Anna. Thank you.”

So, Jane’s in a praising mood this morning. Great.

She walks briskly into the kitchen and moves toward the counter that holds her lunch bag, thanking Anne for packing it this morning. As she does this she apologizes for holding them all up, they’re clearly all ready to go. She hopes they haven’t been waiting long.

“What were you doing?”

She glances at Cathy, then starts rifling through her pockets again to find her keys. She’s looked for her keys three times now, she knows she has them, but it’s something to focus on.

“Oh, it’s nothing really.” She tries to sound nonchalant as she says it. “Just finished applying for that child care class.”

Nothing could have prepared her for the cheers that sound through the room. Everyone seems so happy for her. And Catalina herself is really excited, so it’s nice. It’s nice to feel people being happy for her, even if she’s not making anyone proud.

Kitty hugs her, Anna starts talking about the future plans to own a daycare that they can all help with, Cathy congratulates her since she knew how hard it was for Catalina to make that step. Even Anne is smiling at her and pitching ideas for Anna to shoot down.

And then, Catalina’s heart stops.

Jane puts a hand on her arm, like she’s seen the woman do to every other person in the house, and tells her she’s proud. She even looks like she means it, for a moment.

Catalina can’t possibly respond, as she’s never had to respond to that before. She’s been trying to make it happen, but she hadn’t thought this far ahead. She just freezes and stands still, eyes wide with surprise and slight hope. And then Jane looks slightly regretful, and it’s enough to kill her mood completely.

Of course it was habitual, she’s been telling people she’s proud all morning. But she doesn’t act like that with Catalina. It wasn’t on purpose.

“Right, everyone out!” Catalina doesn’t hear the rest of what Jane says as she withdraws her hand. Everyone makes their way out of the front door and says their goodbyes. And once Catalina regains her ability to move, she quickly dodges Jane’s special not caring goodbye to her and practically runs to her car.

Her drive to the daycare usually takes about twenty minutes, it’s not unusual for her to arrive early to help set up. On days like today, where everyone is running late, she gets there with enough time to at least say hello to everyone before they open. But today is a special case. This particular morning, Catalina pulls into the parking lot of a convenience store/gas station and doesn’t care if she’s going to be late.

Hands shaking, she takes the key out of the ignition and stares into space. Jane said she’s proud of her. Not only that, but Catalina ruined it by freezing up. Maybe she wouldn’t have looked so apprehensive and regretful if Catalina had reacted better. Damn.

She tries to recall something to make her feel better. Something to make her at least stable enough to drive. A memory from her maids as a child or something funny from this life, anything at all. But as she goes through her head all she can find is that she can’t remember the last time someone was proud of her.

That may have been the first time in either of her lives that anyone has ever told her so.

She takes a deep breath. She needs to stop being so weird about it. It was out of habit, a lapse in character. It’s not as if Jane actually meant anything by it; Catalina should stop thinking about it. Her heart should stop its longing, she’s a grown woman. It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t have that kind of relationship with Jane, they’re still good friends. She doesn’t need Jane to feel that way about her.

God, she wishes that circle of thinking actually worked.

-

Jane worries. It’s something very known about her. If there was three things that signified Mom Friend to the group, it was her mom-like pride in her family, her hugs (which are soft,warm and inviting to all.), and her ability to inexplicably worry like no other.

Sometimes she frets over the other queens safety. Like when Kitty had wanted to go skydiving and brought Anna with her. Sometimes it’s at night time when she hears walking around. Although when that happens she can usually keep herself in bed if she hears more than one person up at a time. Today, she’s worried over if she’s just ruined her perfectly good friendship with Catalina.

She has so much respect for the woman, Jane would never intentionally cause her to feel uncomfortable. If only she’d just thought it through a bit more. Catalina clearly didn’t want the attention. But all Jane could think is that she was just so proud. Catalina’s been putting that off for so long now, Jane was so relieved to see it happen.

And now she’s alone, which doesn’t stop her worrying.

If anything being alone makes it worse, because now she’s overthinking what the woman's reaction could have possibly meant for them. Is she going to distance herself now? Will she be upset with Jane for accidentally being condescending? She would have every right to be indignant, Catherine of Aragon does not need to hear the praises of Jane, her former Lady In Waiting.

It’s been no more than thirty minutes since the others have left for the day, and Jane has already driven herself mad with anxiety. She tires to hum as she tidies the living room, only to feel herself becoming too impatient with the tasks. Then she attempted to watch TV, but ultimately could not focus. It seems today is a job for a bit of a more heavy duty distraction. Usually she’d work in the yard, but the hum of nature might hut more than help in the focusing department today. So, she picks up her most recent embroidery project and heads off to her bedroom.

She settles in, ready for a long day of avoiding her own thoughts. But the door downstairs opens, pulling her from her work immediately.

Who on earth could that be?

She opens her door and peers down the stairs, thankful that the location of her room allows her to see. Hopefully it’s not a burglar, Jane thinks she couldn’t handle that stress today. Not when she’d dealt with anxiety from yet another harrowing social interaction. Even with the queens, she finds a way to mess up. And they wonder why she’s an introvert.

The person who has entered their home starts coming up the stairs, and she sees. It’s only Catalina. Her heart slows in relief for a moment, before she remembers that Catalina is part of why she’s worrying. Then it shoots right back to the pace it was at before. Jane doesn’t close the door, she just makes eye contact with her and offers a smile.

“What happened with work?”

Catalina’s eyes flash an unfamiliar emotion before settling into a passive stare.

“Not feeling up to it today. I called out half way there.”

Now, usually Jane would rush to her fellow queens aid. But after this morning she doesn’t want to seem overbearing, so she stays rooted to her spot and keeps her tone even.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

-

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

If Catalina were anyone else, Jane would be running to help. She’d probably insist on calling a doctor and rush her to bed before even hearing what’s wrong. Then she’d endure the jokes at her expense for the overreaction.

But Catalina for some reason is not the same, so Jane does not act like that with her.

“No, I’m just going to lie down.”

Jane nods, and closes her door. Apparently not seeing the dejection emanating from the other woman’s very posture.

Catalina seriously just needs to make peace with the fact that she isn’t one of the others. She’s a part of the family, but she’ll never be in with them. If she made peace with this, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much when the examples of her isolation are so plain to see.

Instead of continuing to sulk in front of Jane’s door like a child, Catalina goes to her bedroom to sulk in her own space.

-

Catalina’s home.

Catalina is home, and Jane is so sure now that she’s made things weird. They can hardly make eye contact with each other.

She sits back down and aggressively picks up her embroidery project. Focus, focus, focus, focus! Her mind drifts back and forth between her hands moving swiftly through a stitch and her possible damaged friendship with Catalina. She should apologize, she won’t be leaving to focus until she-

Jane is abruptly pulled out of her thoughts by a subtle knock on her door. She knows Catalina is the only other queen home, but she can’t help but think that the knock is similar to Kitty’s on a bad day.

“Come in.”

The door opens slightly, and the woman on the other side ones her head in, “Jane?”

“Yes?”

There’s a hesitation, which is probably because Jane has made things irrecoverably weird between them. But eventually after her mental deliberation Catalina steps all the way into the room and softly closes the door behind herself.

When she doesn't speak right away, Jane moves her stuff off of the bed and invites her to sit. After Cataina’s sitting, they both make an attempt to start the conversation.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable-“

“Thank you for saying you’re proud of me-“

They both stop and stare, wide eyed.

“What-“

“Why would you have made me-“

“I just thought-“

“No! Never, I-“

“We’ve just been such good friends-“

“Yes! And so that was nice to hear-“

Jane looks at Catalina, astounded. Had she really been happy about the praise? She says so, but she seemed so put off by it before.

“Then why did you react like it was wrong?” She questions.

She watches Catalina take a breath before providing her own explanation.

“It just caught me off guard is all. You don’t really tend to say things like that to me.”

“I mean, I never thought you’d need it.”

-

Catalina’s knee jerk reaction is to say she doesn’t. But then she stops herself. If this conversation is going to be productive at all, she needs to be honest.

“It’s nice to hear every once in a while, though.”

Jane looks surprised by the admission, as if Catalina has just told her a secret.

“I always thought it would make you uncomfortable.” She murmurs back, although now she sounds like she’s back in her head.

Catalina gulps, now or never.

“I’ve actually been wanting to hear it.” She admits before she can stifle herself.

The other woman is still absolutely shocked; and if at all possible, her eyes get wider.

“What?” Jane stammers out in disbelief. Catalina kind of wants the floor to open up and swallow her.

“Not to sound needy or anything!” She rushes. “It’s just that you say stuff like that to the others all of the time, and this is the first time you’ve said it to me! And so I got excited but I knew it was just you saying it out of habit so I didn’t respond.”

“-Well I would have said it more often to you if I’d known!”

“But you didn’t know-“

“I was trying to respect your boundaries-“

“I get that, nothing has to change either-“

“Hell yes it does!”

Now it’s Catalina’s turn to be wide eyed in surprise. She’s never heard Jane sound so indignant before.

“You’ve- what? Been thinking I’m just, not proud of you? This whole time?” There’s a sense of urgency in the defensive nature of her voice. She needs to know the answer to these questions. So Catalina answers truthfully.

“Well, yes? And you certainly don’t have to be. I’m a grown woman, I don’t need to hear that you’re proud of me all of the time.”

She didn’t realize she’d been looking away until Jane grabbed her arm. It’s a soft touch, reminiscent of the way she held it this morning. When she meets Jane’s eyes all she sees is warmth.

“Catalina, I am so, so proud of you. Every day.”

Catalina opens her mouth to protest, but Jane speaks again before she can.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been showing it properly. I thought that you’d be uncomfortable if I treated you the same as everyone else. I have too much respect for you to do that.”

Oh.

“I’ll say it more, now that I know you’re okay with it. Alright?”

Catalina can hardly nod, overcome with an indescribable emotion. All she knows is that she feels warm.

They lapse into a comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company. They are good friends after all. Enjoying being around each other is the basis of their friendship, actually.

“Hey, Jane?”

“Yes?”

“You know, calling out is really stressful.” She observes.

Jane’s eyes light up in recognition, “Ah, yes. What with them asking you questions and your phone anxiety. I imagine it’s very difficult for you.”

She nods bashfully, hopeful once again.

“Well, dear, I am very proud of you.”

[hanniiesuckle17]

Little Stars

A/n: THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 1.5K!!! THISMEANS SO MUCH TO ME SO HERES A LITTLE IMAGINES I WROTE OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD THAN K YUO GUYS AGain

(this is way longer than I thought it would be! also not edited lol sorry)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: maybe like one or two curse words, sexual tension??

Summary: Y/n is an up and coming artist. The problem is her collection deadline is one past up and coming. Lacking motivation since the job was assigned she is stuck the day before her deadline with no paintings or photos and thoroughly depressed. That is until shes see inspiration outside her window. Inspiration by the name of Lee Felix.

Genre: Fluff, strangers to ‘lovers’, 

✧

Empty. My brain was empty. I had two months. Two months to come up with a small exhibit for a local gallery I was signed to. Two months. For five paintings. Or photos. Or both. TOO MANY DECISIONS. Decisions...granted I should have made...two months ago. 

I sat near the biggest window in my apartment. Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting a natural glow on the stark white canvas. I just needed a theme. A subject. I know! I could do a five-part exhibition on tea kettles!

“Oh for pete’s sake, I’m going crazy,” I said head in my hands. 

I can’t paint teapots. Flowers are overdone. What the hell am I supposed to paint? This exhibition was a huge deal. I had nothing and my deadline was tomorrow night.

That’s it. I’m done. My short career is finished. I should just throw away all my paints and pencils and chalk and coal and trash all the canvases that littered my apartment. I glanced at my phone which sat a few feet away from me on a small wooden table littered with tubes of paint and jars filled with brushes and blades covered in paint. 

An hour had passed and I still had yet to touch my brush to the canvas. Groaning, I rested my forehead against the linen canvas. “Come on, Y/n. Search your artsy soul for inspiration.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I tried to imagine the canvas being filled by something beautiful. Something worthy of love and legacy. Something that could burn a hole in my life and set it on fire. Something to ignite my passion again.

When I opened them, of course, the canvas was still empty and my brain was too.

With the thousandth aggravated sigh of the hour, I sat up and looked out the huge window near me. My eyes caught on a flash of blonde hair. Down on the street, a boy with light hair and bright eyes was bouncing along with two other boys. They were joking around and laughing, as people who’s entire job wasn’t on the line would do. For some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

All of a sudden I could see the brush strokes of his hair on my canvas. The delicate lines of his eyes. I needed to paint him.

I launched myself out of the chair and rushed to the door. My feet took the stairs two at a time and I jumped the last three before sprinting out onto the street. My head turned in all directions trying to find the boy I saw from my window. Once again, I found his blonde mop bouncing and laughing down the street, away from my apartment.

“Hey!” I called out, running to catch up.

Good grief boys walk fast. “Hey! You! With the blonde hair!” At my words, the three boys turned around, astonished someone was running at them. After a few words, the boys started running away. “No! Wait! I need to talk to the Blonde Guy!” I yelled out of breath. Desperate, I ran after them. Thankfully they turned down an alley only a few feet away that I knew was a dead end.

I put my hands on my knees catching my breath. The three boys stared at me a little fearful. “Look, I just need to talk to Goldilocks. I saw him from my window and there was just something about you. It inspired me.”

“Well... yeah. We’re kind of famous. We get that a lot.” The boy with doe-like eyes and dark, almost black hair said like it was obvious. The boy with blonde hair elbowed him in the stomach making the other laugh.

“You’re famous?” I asked, finally standing upright. They looked between each other surprised.

“You don’t know who we are?” The youngest looking asked. He reminded me of a fox I painted once. “Sorry. We thought you were a crazy fan.” To be honest I hadn’t really been keeping up with the news or popular things lately. I had been holed up in my apartment trying to paint. “We’re from a group called Stray Kids. I’m Jeongin. The rude guy is Jisung, and that’s Felix.”

My eye immediately darted to the boy now known to me as Felix. “Felix...” I said looking him over. He was even more entrancing up close. He had soft sun spots dancing across his cheeks and nose that brightened up his face. Freckles. How cute. How different.

“Yeah...what’s your name?”

“Uh- I’m Y/n, Y/n L/n.” 

Jeongin’s eyes widened. “Hyung! Isn’t she that painter that Hyunijn likes? He dragged us to that gallery last year to see her stuff.” Jisung nodded and looked from me back to Felix. “Our friend loves your stuff. He made us take a bunch of pictures of him in front of it.”

“Oh, that’s awesome.” I couldn’t take my eyes off Felix, and he noticed. 

“Do you think we could like buy a painting off you? That would shut him up for like a solid six months.” Jisung said pulling out his wallet. “How much are we talking?”

“For something I have with me? Not in a gallery? Probably like....Fifteen.” I said, still quite distracted. My imagination was spiraling out of control with how I wanted to paint the boy in front of me. How I wanted to capture his image. Photograph him. 

“Fifteen bucks? Great! That’s awes-”

“Fifteen hundred.” 

Felix burst into laughter as the look on Jisung’s face fell. His hand was frozen, extended out in front of him, already prepared to give me fifteen dollars. My heart skipped a beat watching Felix’s bright grin. He practically glowed.

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you choose any painting you want from my apartment and I’ll sign it for...Hyunjin, was it?” The boys nodded. “I’ll give it to you if Felix will help me finish my new exhibition. It shouldn’t take long. I’ll even-”

“Sure.” 

Felix shrugged with a small smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looked me over with a soft and happy gaze. It seemed I intrigued him as much as he intrigued me.

“My apartment is just around the corner.”

“Cool. Just a heads up, I’ve never modeled except for like album jackets and stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The closer he got, the harder it was not to smile. Jisung and Jeongin were joking behind us, something about Felix finally getting into a pretty girl’s apartment, but it all kind of faded away as I walked back with Felix. I felt the passion to paint again burning in my stomach.

✧

Felix patiently waited as I opened the door to my apartment. When we entered I hastily cleaned up some random junk cluttering the counters as he looked around. There was nothing I could do about the multiple canvases lying in stacks all around the living room. 

“Wow. You are really good.” He said looking at a large canvas painted with bright and happy colors near my kitchen. Why did the compliment feel different coming from him?

“Thank you very much. I’ve had a bit of a dry spell recently.”

“For how long?” 

“Give or take three months.”

Felix chuckled and looked at the other paintings near him. While he explored my art-filled apartment, I set up my camera on a tripod near the window and adjusted the position of my easel. “So, how is this gonna work?”

“Um...I’m not entirely sure. I’ve never been inspired like this before. I really have no idea what medium I’ll end up using...so I’m sort of using...all of them.” Felix laughed again watching me frantically prepping everything I could possibly need. I didn’t miss the lingering stares he cast my way. 

“We’re doing photos? Should I like put on a base or something?”

“NO!” He was a little shocked at my outburst. He probably wasn’t used to being photographed without makeup. “Sorry. I just- I don’t want you covered up. I want to paint everything. Everything about you.” I looked to see a shy blush on Felix’s face as he came to stand near me by the window.

“So, I sit here?” He motioned to the windowsill, overlooking the street on which I discovered him. The light hit him perfectly, bouncing of his cheekbones and practically giving him a halo.

I nodded quietly and adjusted a few settings on my camera before returning to my easel. Felix looked at me with a smile. I laughed seeing he was trying to pose and stay very still. 

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll ask you to be still if I need to.” 

The sound of the camera clicking filled the apartment as Felix watched me paint him. The lines came easy to me as if I had painted him many times before. He watched as I painted the lines of his face and his eyes quickly appeared on the canvas, staring back at me just like he was. 

“Do you want some music? This will take a while. I’ve got five pieces to do.” Felix chuckled, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down and his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. 

“Music would be wonderful.” With a smile, I shoved my wet paintbrush behind my ear, streaking my cheek and possibly my hair, and shuffled over to turn on my stereo. Felix let a curious grin slip onto his lips. “Classical?” 

“Do you like it? It helps me focus.” He nodded and looked out the window. His eyes closed as the sound of soft violins floated through the apartment. “So, Felix, what’s your favorite book.” He was a little shocked at the random question, but that happy smile returned.

“Ummm...let’s see,” While he thought I continued painting, the basics of his face and form already done. I quickly painted the window and background so I could go back to focusing on the shadows and details of Felix’s face. My hands worked quickly, shading in the dark patches behind the cushions and curtains. 

“Peter Rabbit.”

“Like the kid’s book?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing! It’s just different. I knew there was something special about you.” I said with a laugh, grabbing a smaller brush and looking at the shadows behind Felix. He tilted his head, resting it on the window. 

“Why did you pick me?” 

The movement of my brush stopped. My eyes met the dark brown stare Felix held. He smirked noticing the heat rushing to my cheeks. “I thought you looked like a shooting star.” His eyebrows rose and he tried not to laugh.

“That’s quite the artist's answer.”

“Well, I am an artist.”

He chuckled and started playing with the edge of his sleeve. “So, a shooting star?” Again, I blushed. The painting was almost finished I just needed to finish the details of his eyes and cheeks. “Yeah. I don’t know. You just seemed so full of life. Something fleeting. Something...ephemeral.”

“Ephemeral? As in not lasting? What am I supposed to turn into dust after you’ve finished with me?” He laughed, his eyes crinkling. My eyes trailed down his cheeks to look at the stars dancing across his skin. The freckles scattered about his cheeks. Delicately, I began placing each and every spot as Felix told me about his life.

“It’s finished.” 

“Can I see?” He said jumping up from the window sill. I shook my head and grabbed the still wet canvas. “Come on, Y/n! Let me see!” He chased me around the living room trying to carefully grab the painting. I laughed when his arms wrapped around my waist and he pulled me to him. 

“You can see it when the collection is complete! We have more art to make!” He laughed and let me place the painting away to dry. Together we walked over back to the window and he sat back down, watching me expectantly. 

I scanned through the photos the camera captured. They were fantastic. They were the perfect candids. I could edit these into black and white and it would be gorgeous. Felix came to look over my shoulder. He gasped at the pictures. 

“How the hell did you do that?” Felix gently took the camera and scrolled through the pictures. “Seriously. You were busy painting. How did you do this?” I shrugged and cleaned some of my brushes while he looked through the photos. 

“Sometimes it is not about the angle or the position. It’s just what the subject is doing or feeling.” I took the camera and scrolled to a certain picture. “Like this one.” Felix looked at the picture. It was him leaning against the window, his eyes crescents and aimed somewhere off frame. “Do you know when this was?” He shook his head and looked to me.

“When I called you a shooting star.” Felix looked at the photo again, seeing it in a new light. 

“So, what’s next?”

I felt so close to Felix. Like I had known him for years. Had it really only been a few hours? My eyes traced the lines of his shoulders and back. The perfect canvas.

“Can I...paint on you?”

His eyes widened for a millisecond and he let out a breathy laugh. “Have you done it before?” I shrugged and wiped my paint stained hands on my jeans. When I looked up he had moved a little closer.

“I’ve never really wanted to. Like I said, I don’t want to capture your image...covered up. It should be seen naturally.”

Felix smiled. “So, where are we doing this?” He said softly. My heart thumped against my chest. I pointed to an open space on the wood floor and he nodded. I grabbed some body paints I had lying around in a cabinet and brought them over to Felix. 

“Let me know if anything gets uncomfortable and I’ll stop.” He nodded and slipped his shirt over his head. I motioned for him to lie on his stomach and he followed my instruction. Felix shivered when his tan skin touched the cool wood floor. 

“What got you into painting?” Felix asked, resting his head on his arms. I picked out the brush I wanted to start with. My palm rested on his shoulder as the brush hovered over his back. 

“I’m not really sure. You see...I really sucked at math.”

Felix let out the largest laugh, one that shook his whole chest. I took the opportunity to start painting. Soon his lower back was filled with swirling colors of blues and purples. “Is everything okay?” Felix asked, interrupting his own story.

“Yeah, just an awkward angle.” 

“You can adjust if you want to. I don’t mind.” My skin started to crawl when  Felix turned to me in the eye. Like he was inviting me to come even closer to him. He smiled at the blush on my cheeks before turning his head away. Hesitantly, I situated myself above Felix, slowly resting some of my weight on the lowest part of his back possible. I saw him smile when he felt my knees on either side of his hips. 

Felix continued his story about something one of his friends named Chan did the other night. The sound of his low voice mixed with the music still playing guided my brush like it had a mind of its own. When I looked at my work, a nebula with hundreds of little stars was born onto his skin.

“I think it’s done.”

Carefully, I got off of Felix and helped him up. I set the camera up again and it started taking pictures. Taking Felix’s hand I pulled him in front of the lens and positioned him with his back towards the camera. He watched me as I positioned his body, my hands unintentionally lingering on his shoulders.

Felix turned to me as I began to pull away. “I didn’t know art could be so intimate.” I looked down to see his hand on my arm, his body was slightly turned at the waist towards me and his eyes bore into mine. Never had I felt this passionate about something other than art. I liked Felix. A lot. More than I should admit after just meeting the man. “Is it supposed to be like this?”

I shook my head, hoping he wouldn't notice I stepped closer. “No,” His hand slid around the base of my back. “Maybe you are a shooting star. I couldn’t have wished for something this incredible.” He smiled and looked down at me.

“Can I kiss you? Sorry...I just-”

“You really didn’t have to ask.” Felix, let out a small laugh, almost a giggle, making me smile. My fingers traveled up his neck and into the edge of his blonde hair. “Well, are you gonna do it or are you gonna chicken out, Felix?”

“Oh shh.”

His lips tasted like strawberries. He was gentle and slow, like he was savoring every moment. When he pulled away I rested my forehead against his. “I do not regret putting off my work until the last minute.” He laughed, his eyes brightening and lighting up the whole room. 

✧

Standing in the gallery felt like a second home. My exhibition hung on the wall .It was one of my greatest yet. The gallery had given me an extension after seeing the semi-finished product. A group of rowdy boys walked towards me, a familiar and handsome face leading them.

“Y/n!” He called, running up and greeting me with a kiss. The other seven boys followed after him. One of the taller ones hung towards the back clearly nervous.

“You must be Hyunjin?” I asked reaching for his hand. His eyes widened and he shook my hand vigorously. His sharp features lifted into a grin and he laughed. “You might want to let go of my hand eventually.” 

“Oh. Sorry. I’m just such a big fan.”

“I know. Felix has told me all about you. I’ve got a painting signed for you in my car.” Hyunjin’s jaw dropped and I swear he almost fell backwards had Jisung not been there to catch him.

“So, what is your collection called?” The boy Felix pointed out to me as Chan asked. Felix proudly wrapped an arm around my waist as I guided the group to the first piece.

“It’s called Little Stars.” Felix, blushed when I lightly pinched his cheek. The boys marveled at the first painting. It was one of Felix sitting in my window. It was the only piece in color. We moved on to the second piece. The photo I had shown Felix of him smiling. 

The next photo was a frame I had cropped to show just his eyes. Even in black and white Felix still managed to bring color and life with just a single look. “Wow, Felix! I had no idea you were this cool looking!” Minho said, marveling at the photograph. Felix kicked him as we moved forward. 

The second to last photo showed the painting I did on Felix’s back. He was completely turned away from the camera, but you could see my hands on his shoulder and waist. I had edited the photo so just my hands and arms were seen. Felix smiled and kissed the top of my head before the both of us led the group to the exhibit finale.

“DAMN FELIX!” Jisung yelled.

“Jisung. We are in an art gallery. Don’t yell.” Chan scolded.

“Sorry, but Felix got game.”

I laughed and looked at the photo; it was my favorite. Felix was half turned towards me but you could still see the nebula and stars on his back, his hand was gripping my waist tightly and he smiled down at me, our foreheads pressed together. You could see my fingers pulling away from the base of his hair, giving movement to the photo.

“This is incredible, Y/n.” 

“Well, it’s all you so I should say so.” He kissed my cheek with that bright smile of his. “You really are my shooting star. I’m getting everything I could ever wish for.”

✧

Requests are open, my lovelies!

Masterlist

[honey-honey-honey-lit-the-fire]

I.O.U

*Disclaimer: pardon my english, and hmm yeah this whole wtf writing :). There's part 2*

24th December.

We agreed to meet at his dorm. This was my first time coming to his place and of course i was very nervous. I knew i had to be careful since there were a lot of his fans and reporters wandering around his dorm. So, i dressed myself as a staff. I have met his manager and thankfully he liked me and agreed for us to spend time at his dorm. He gave me his other id card so i can enter the building. I rang the bell and immediately welcomed by Kun. "Uhm, hello.." , i awkwardly greeted since we had never spoken before. "HEY YANGYANG! Your guest is here. And by the way nice to meet you, he has told me bout you. Please come in, y/n!", Kun said while opening the door widely. I thanked him and entered the living room which connected to the kitchen. Kun went to the kitchen to prepare me a drink and while he was doing that we got to know about each other a little bit more. He was speaking korean since i said i didn't understand chinese. "Don't get me wrong, but you look very young.., what line are you, " he asked. "Uhm.. 03 line.., and thank you for the tea," i blushed and drank the tea he gave me. At this moment, i started to search where Yangyang was. I wanted to asked Kun but it would just make me look impatient. "Hii!! Y/N!!!!" Yangyang startled me with a back hug. I spilled the hot tea i was drinking to my hand. "Ouch! I'm sorry.. let me clean this up," i said. I got up immediately cause i wanted to stop Kun who looked kinda panic in front of me. "Aye! Let me take care of her, she's MY guest," Yangyang said while snitching a paper towel from Kun's hand. "Baby.. you okay? Why did you say sorry? I'M sorry..," Yangyang held my hand and cleaned the table. The tea wasn't that hot so i was obviously fine, just a bit embarrassed. Kun was smiling across the counter seeing Yangyang. He would never thought his baby called a girl "baby" and even more surprised to see him cleaning up a mess. Kun left us and went to his room. "You really are a surprise, aren't you," i said smilingly to Yangyang. He smiled back and laughed. We walked to the sofa. "So.. wanna watch? You pick," he said. And so since it was Christmas eve, i picked a romance Christmas movie. He wasn't a particular fan of romance movies like me so he was kinda bored. Yangyang suddenly stood up and went somewhere. It made me question myself "is the movie really that boring?". My heart sank a little bit. Then he came from his room, with a blanket and snacks. Wayv dorms was always known to never run out of snacks. He put the snacks on the table and sat right beside me again. "Sorry for leaving you, it's just you look like you're cold," he said softly. I was. Or maybe it was just the awkward situation. He pat his lap telling me to rest my head on his. His legs was very bony so i laughed quietly. "What are you laughing about," he asked smiling and fixing his gaze on me who was resting in his lap. "Nothing, i'm just really happy right now. You. You are all that i need. We don't have to continue the movie you know," i said. "Thank god. I thought we stuck in this awkwardness forever, " he answered. He kissed my forehead and played with my hair. I sat up since his hand was around my waist giving me sign to sit up. He guided me to sit on his lap. He kissed me on the lips while caressing my back. After a while of making out, i pulled back. It was around midnight then. I searched his present in my bag. I bought him a bracelet the day before. It was expensive and i had to save my money for a month to buy that. "I don't know if you'll like it, but please take my Christmas present for you, " i said quietly and handing over the gift box to his hand. "Baby.. thank you, " he opened the box and put his iconic wide smile. "I know you don't celebrate Christmas, but still, Merry Christmas my dear. You made this Christmas eve the most beautiful night of my life. I owe you a Christmas present. Today i'll make it up to you. Be ready for my plans baby," Yangyang whispered those to my ears. I kissed him as a response and slowly drifting away of tiredness. The next morning, it was Christmas. I woke up.

In the couch. In his dorm. "Fuck! Why did i fall asleep here," spontaneously cursing myself in my head. I looked around and realized i was left alone. "You up? Good morning!" Yangyang brightly jumped out of nowhere. "Gosh.. you know i shouldn't have stayed here. You should have waken me up, " i said. "Well I'm sorry grumpy baby.. and btw it was safer for you to sleep here. Seeing you out from the building around midnight would be kinda suspicious you know," he said teasingly. He had some points. "Are the others okay with me staying over like this, i feel really bad right now..," i was suddenly full of guilt. "Hey it's just us and Kun and he said it was okay," he reassured me. He explained that the others went home for the holidays. He lightly fixed my hair and kissed me to wake me up fully. He put his arm around my shoulder. "So about the plans today.. oh, before that, we go to your apartment first to take a shower and dress up, and then breakfast baby," he laughed. He drove me to my apartment. He made himself at home while i took a shower and got ready. "Okay?" i asked while showing my white dress that i purposely bought for today. "You look very pretty, baby. You look pretty with or without that dress, like later tonight, " Yangyang teased. "What?" i blushed. I took my coat and went out. We went out to get brunch next. We went to a German restaurant that he liked. "So about that plans you talked about last night? Can you tell me about it, " i asked teasingly. "No, all secret baby. Just wait and see..," he answered. We arrived at the restaurant and immediately found a seat. I ordered a german pancake and he ordered a brunch package. We ate and talked lightly. "Actually.. you kinda scared me last night" he said. " You suddenly collapsed and i thought you passed out, " he laughed. "Really? Gosh.. i think i was really tired this past few days," i said. "I know baby, i glad this day finally come and you can ease yourself with me." Yangyang said it sweetly while looking into my eyes. He paid and we went out to the car. "Hehe.. you're coming shopping with me finally," he childlishly smiled. "Oh? Okay then. I wanna see how much you really spend on your fashion, " i laughed. At this moment my heart was just racing. I was happy but at the same moment i was scared also. This. This date. This whole relationship. It was all on the line for this day. We arrived at Galleria. We walked separately since it was kinda risky. No, really risky. He looked around and bought some stuff for himself. And suddenly, i saw a camera shooting towards him. I knew i had to go further from him. I texted him the situation and that i waited for him in a cafe. I knew Yangyang never checked his phones in public so yeah i just hoped he realized me missing. I spent my time calming myself and practiced looking normal despite feeling anxious. Around half an hour passed he texted me and said he would be over in a minute. He knew that this would happened so he took it normally. He went to the cafe and we walked to the car. We lost the cameras in the crowd and arrived at the basement safely together. I was sorry but i couldn't say a word at that time. "Hey hey, what's wrong," he said worrily. "I'm sorry for leaving you i just.." my words were cut by his kiss. "No, i know you do that for us, not just for you, but to protect me also. Thank you baby," he said sweetly. My worries immediately went away hearing his words. I smiled at him to make him know that he made me feel fine that time. He gave me some jokes. Well I laughed at the littlest things so he was happy hearing me laugh at every of his jokes. "Where are we going?" i asked. "Patient, baby. This one is a surprise for you," he said. We arrived at an art gallery. "Huh?" I questioned. "Christmas is all about home right? We went to a german restaurant so now we're going to your home, " he explained. I rarely shared my childhood stories with him but i remembered one time when we talked about Ten's art, i told him that my parents used to have an art gallery back home. It had been 5 years since i moved

to Korea and my parents sold our house and the gallery. This place made me miss my old home really bad. My eyes were teary without me realizing. "Oh, i would never expected this from you. Thank you," i smiled to him. We walked inside and went around. The whole time i was really emotional and distracted. We went out and went in to gallery's cafe. I sat while he ordered us drinks. "The life i had was something.. special. There are not many children who has lived in an "artfull" life. Me and my sister had to attend so many parties back then. The real life of art galleries starts when exhibitions come up. The live, the art, the people.. it was so overwhelming for two girls who knew nothing. People always know that art galleries are quiet and boring. I guess i'm just grateful that i got to see the other side of it. And i would really like to show it to you," i said. He listened to me whole-heartedly and said, "I would love that. I would love to meet your parents too!" he teased. I playfully pouted at him. He always knew how to brighten up the mood. We then walked around for food. We decided to come in a warm soup restaurant. Eating korean food already tasted like a home food for me right now. It was around 7 pm. We walked around a river next to the gallery. There was no one in sight so i was really comfortable at that time. I linked my arms around his. We walked without saying anything. The silence wasn't awkward yet it was truly comforting. All i felt was his warmth and company, to know that there was someone i loved and loved me back walking right next to me, was more than enough. We stop to take a sit when suddenly snow fell. "Wah, the first snow fell on the perfect time, " he turned to me. "It's really beautiful, every first snow feels like the first time for me seeing snow, " i said while touching a snow that dropped in front of me. "It looks just like in romance movies," i laughed teasing him. He turned away his head jokingly. Suddenly he turned back his head and kissed me unaware. I snuggled to his lean body and warmed myself in his arms. I wished this moment could last forever. We continued our walk in the snow and back to our car. He warmed the car since it was getting really colder. "We still have one more on the list, you still up?" he asked, concerning if i was tired. "Let's go! Wherever it is., " i said brightly. He drove again to some place. We got to a night theme park. We were a little bit hungry so we went to get fish shaped bread first. "This is perfect for the weather," i said. "I know right," he playfully said and round his arms around my shoulder. He took me to an ice rink there. Neither of us could skate well so we were stumbling against each other. I took this quiet funny. We didn't skate long because of the cold so we went to a ferris wheel. I didn't tell him that i was scared of height. He was known to be a fearless boy so i just wanted to keep up with him. I expected this to be so romantic and i was very excited. We went into a booth and sat across each other. We had a small talk about the plans we did that day until our booth was almost at the top. I started getting very scared and held the chair tightly. He noticed that and moved right next beside me. He took me in his arms and i sank my face in his chest. The floor booth was from glass and my legs were getting really shaky. He held me tight as i was something breakable and whispered, "Are you okay now?" I lifted my head to see his face and nod with a smile. "I didn't want to tell you cause uhm, i want to spend every minutes of this day with you, like this..," i said to him. "I know baby, i know," he teased while fixing my beanie. The booth reached the top and he sat me up to kiss me. "Today was all perfect. Thank you baby. But today isn't over yet, " he smirked to tease me. The booth finally went back to the ground and we got off. It was 10 pm right then and we drove back to my apartment. I knew he was gonna stay over but i told him to anyways just to make him sure i was alright with it. I turned on my heater and prepared him a hot cocoa

while he looked around seeing my plushies. "A lamb huh?" he holds a lamb plushie that i had since i was a baby. "Yeah. It is the first toy i have. He's my first "yang", jealous?" I teased him. "Well I'm here now, so you just gotta back off okay," he said it to the toy jokingly. I laughed and handed him a cup of hot cocoa. I left him to take a shower and changed into my pajama. After i finished, he also took a shower and put on clean clothes he always had in his car. We got into my bed. We cuddled immediately since the sheet were pretty cold. "I love you," he whispered. "24 hours isn't enough for all the plans i have in my head for you." "Then, how about tomorrow and the rest of the holiday? It feels like Christmas every time I'm with you.." i said reassuring him. -SMUT- I kissed him this time and his eyes brightened up immediately. He sat up and leaned on the headboard. I sat around his legs. He hold my waist while i kissed him slowly, yet burning him. He pulled his hands off my waist and started unbuttoning my pajamas. I stopped and kinda took a few seconds to fully aware the situation we were getting to. I nodded at him before he fully unbuttoned my shirt. He took his time feeling every button and it made me really impatient. I tug his short and he gave me this question full look, "Aye baby, all good things come to those who wait." He kissed my neck while unclasping my bra and pulling down my pants. He covered me with a blanket so i didn't get cold. I pulled up his shirt and sank to his chest, feeling his warmth. He turned me around so i was laying on the bed right now with him hovering me. He playfully played with the seams of panty and occasionally rub my sensitive spot. I squinted my eyes in pleasure and anticipation. "Don't close your eyes, i want to see all of you," he teased. I hit his arms lightly and pouted. He tried to pull of my panty but i stopped it with crossing my legs. He showed a confused look, a bit of scared look in his eyes. I was embarrassed to say this but i said it anyway, "It's my first, i have never gone this far with a boy before..," hiding my face with a pillow. "Oh? Do you want to continue? Cause we can stop if you feel uncomfortable and i'm truly okay with, no lie," he said. I wanted this and there would be no other perfect day to do this. He smiled and whispered me that he would be very gentle and careful not to hurt me. He took off my the last piece of clothing i had and took a few second of himself. My cheek felt like it was burning and even in this weather i didn't feel cold at all. He caressed my thighs while kissing parts of my body from the top. He put his finger in front of my mouth telling me to wet it. I sucked on his finger and he had that smug look on his face. He put one finger on the opening, "Relax baby, it will hurt if you don't relax. " I was nervous but he stroked my hairs gently, kissed my forehead, and made all my fears go away. He finally put one finger inside. I moaned in pain and the new kind of pleasure i was feeling. He checked if i was okay before moving the finger gently. His thumb was circling around my bud while his other hand held my nape. Not long i started feeling the pleasure highly building and i knew about this feeling. "Yangyang... Please.. uh..i think I'm about to come," i said heavily, murmuring under my breath. "Come for me baby..," he said. He hit a triggering spot inside me and speeded up his pace. And that was it, i came for the first time. "We haven't even started baby.. " he teased with a smug look on his face. I came down from my high and slowed my breath. He positioned himself down so his head was between my legs now. He spread my knees wide enough that i scrunched his shoulder. "Hold it for me, " he said before he licked my slit and entered his tounge inside me until i started building up pleasure again. "Ahh.. stop.. oh Yangyang.. it's.. so.. good..," i said. The pleasure reached the top again and it was more overwhelming than the one before. I screamed out his name, "I'm gonna cum... please," while distorting my facial expression. He

circled my clit with his thumb and i came for the second time. My legs felt like jelly and i barely had enough energy to open my eyes. He removed his clothes, all of them and quickly grabbed protection from his wallet. He put on the condom on his shaft that was already tensioned. He once again relaxed me down, knowing i was nervous without telling it to him. He positioned his shaft right on my entering. He stroked my hair and kissed me. "Tell me if it's too much, okay?" he whispered. I closed my eyes and grabbed the sheet while he pushed in slowly into me. He checked me first before pushing it deeper inside. He always brushed my head every time i let out a voice of pain. He was very caring and careful as if i was made of porcelain. "You did good baby.. Tell me if you're ready," he said. He kept his inside for awhile while i was adjusting the unfamiliar feeling. I nodded as a approval and he moved it slowly. The little pain that i was feeling turned into pleasure. He builded up his speed and i was losing my mind once again. "I can't.. please.. oh Yangyang, " i moaned his name again and again shamelessly. "Together baby, " he said. His breath was out of control and my name slipped between his groan. We came. I felt like all of my inner energy bursted out. He removed himself from me and cleaned up. He then searched for a clean towel. "Baby let me clean you up quick then you can sleep, " he said. After that he put me my pajamas back and tug me to bed. I was too tired that i didn't remember what he did after that since i passed out.

[khadij-al-kubra]

Worst Impressions are the First (ch 7)

Main Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil (Human AU)

Pairings: Romantic LAMP

Word Count: 5036

AO3

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Author’s (longer than usual but it’s for good reason) Note: *The Apocalypse—2020. Zoom in on a plague rat turned writer. She has survived thesis projects, getting a Master’s degree, burnout, writing and illustrating a children’s book, being a slave for the U.S. census bureau, months of overthinking anxiety spirals, and one or two incidents involving an asshole skunk. But now, battle weary yet unwavering in her love of art and love for her loyal readers, this onesie-clad tea slurping book dragon....has finally arisen from the ashes*

I LIVE BITCHES!!!!!!! And I am SO SORRY for taking so long!!! I’ve been hard at work, been editing like a mad woman, and I even have a beta now! The gorgeous and talented @humbletortoise So I  am OFFICIALLY off hiatus!!! *cue confetti canon* 

Also, one of the biggest reasons I’ve taken so long to update is because I’ve spent the past month or so essentially retconning the fuck outta this fic. I realized looking back at earlier chapters in this story that, although I was proud of them at the time and greatly appreciate the positive reactions, they were...not my best work. (shitty first drafts if I’m being honest) That’s because, at the time, I was trying to split my attention between writing this fic and working on grad school stuff, which resulted in my writing for this not being as best of quality as it could have been upon first posting. This story deserves my best, and so do all of you. So now I hope to give you that. 

I encourage you to go back and re-read the previous chapters up till now (trust me, they’re near unrecognizable to the first drafts, but in the best way). Or if you don’t feel like doing that, you can just continue on from here. totally cool. For the sake of convenience and my own sanity, I’ll attach the AO3 Link to this fic from the start. I may also start just posting chapter updates on tumblr but only have the link to the chapter and add my reader tags. Again, for the sake of my sanity because Tumblr is a bastard when it comes to posting fics. (Also PLEASE let me know if there are any tagging issues if anyone’s on my tags list; yet another reason i’m considering just linking my fics in the future)

Anywho, without further ado, at LOOOOOONG last, here is the next chapter!

Chapter 7 - (POV Roman)

When Roman had offered to walk with Logan to class, it was only partly out of an innate sense of chivalry; a side of himself that he rarely got to show on account of being a socially awkward gay disaster. Though mainly, he saw it as a chance to get to know his second soulmate better.

He certainly hadn’t expected two long minutes of civil but silent walking. Well, as silent as a stroll through their school could be with its usual racket buzzing around them. With a vocabulary as big as the continents of Africa and Eurasia combined, you’d think Logan would be more of a conversationalist. Alas. He merely walked in step with Roman. They glanced over at each other every so often, but Logan stayed tight lipped and seemingly impassive; fiddling with his bumblebee hair pin every now and again. Damn. Looked like he was going to have to make the first move.

Roman was bad at this. How did people usually…Oh yeah, common interest. That’s a thing. He wracked his brain for some sort of ice breaker. One that’d make him look cool and calm or, something, in front of Logan. He was a fairly decent student though not quite mathletes level. He could compliment his outfit maybe? Was that too forward? Too shallow? Maybe he could find common ground? That was as good a place to start as any.

“So! So uhh…What kind of music do you like?” Roman asked. Yeah, that’s good. Everybody likes music.

Logan glanced at him. “Can you be more specific?”

Roman’s brow furrowed. “I mean, like, your favorite genre of music to listen to?”

“Classical,” said Logan in a clipped tone.

“That’s cool. I don’t really listen to classical myself.”

Logan only hummed, his face neutral. Roman was really hoping for more than that. A few awkward seconds passed, then Logan spoke up.

“Are you perhaps a fan of the classic Sherlock Holmes novels?” He inquired.

“Um, I haven’t gotten around to the books yet, actually,” Roman said, scratching his earlobe. “I mean, I’ve heard great things about them. And I’m a big fan of the Robert Downey Jr. movies.”

“Ah. I see.” Logan said, giving him the judgiest side eye.

Come on, Roman thought. Give me something to work with. “Oh! What about theater?”

“What a frustratingly vague inquiry.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get to know my soulmate a little better.” Ay come jode, work with me here, man!

Logan sighed. “While I understand and appreciate your intention, I believe ‘getting to know someone’ as you put it, requires a certain level of specificity. Anything less indicates a somewhat shallow level of sincere interest, and I greatly despise shallow conversation. That said, if you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy theater, no. I don’t understand the concept of professional make believe, though I appreciate it as an art form. I assume you’re a fan?”

Is he seriously implying I’m shallow? Roman groused, pushing his red frames up the bridge of his nose. Ugh, forget it Roman. He’s throwing you a bone here. Take it.

“Obviously,” said Roman, gesturing dramatically. “I mean I’m no actor—Eesh. No. Yikes—but everything about the artform enthralls me. And I like all kinds of genres and eras of plays, from Shakespear to Ruhl, but musicals are by far my favorite, because like, there’s so much you can do with them design wise. I mean just look at how groundbreaking Hamilton was.”

For a second, Logan’s face actually softened, his eyes lighting up. But just as Roman thought they were finally about to make some progress, his stony companion was back to wearing that platinum puss.

“Ah. How… original.”

Roman blinked. “Are you saying my tastes are basic?”

“Well, yes.”

Augh! Okay. Yep. I don’t like him. Patton was going to be so disappointed, and Roman was too. He’d wanted so badly to get along with all his soulmates, but Logan was a snob! Way less intimidating than Virgil and his ilk, but still a jerk. I wonder if soulmarks can make typos or something? Thank the stars they’d already arrived.

Roman and Logan filed in with the rest of the class for seventh period. Somebody had the liberty of opening a window– the AC was still busted in this classroom– so for once there was actually a decent breeze cutting through the usual mucky Florida humidity. Still smelled like it would probably rain later. Good thing Roman had packed an umbrella just in case, Mom’s orders. His hair looked too good today to be wrecked by frizz.

Roman took a seat at his desk, running distracted fingers over the carved letters in the wood while he mulled over his predicament. Just look at him over there, thought Roman as he glared at Logan, not two rows away from him. Sitting with his hands clasped on the desk all smug—of course he’d be near the front—and with such disturbingly good posture. What is he, a robot? Who is he to call my interests basic, the NERVE! And okay, sure, like Hamilton, sometimes I get over excited and shoot off at the mouth. But great Zeus, does that guy show passion for ANYTHING besides academics? Roman blew a raspberry, plopping his head in his hands.

He always thought soulmates were supposed to get along, even as just friends for life. Balancing each other out, bringing out the best in you and forming a deep connection—that was the whole point. He sighed to himself. Cymbals clashed less than he and Logan did.

He was stirred from his brooding by the bell. Apparently Mr. ‘Call-me-Terrence’ Williams had materialized without him noticing. Okay fine, he should probably pay more attention, but he was having a crisis here.

“Afternoon everyone,” Terrence greeted in that measured, upbeat tone of his.  

He draped his navy blue blazer over the back of his desk chair and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbows. Roman pitied the poor guy;  he had to teach sauna of a classroom all day. He could see the glisten of sweat on his teacher's smooth forehead as he wrote things on the board. Yet he still kept a pleasant attitude towards his students.

“Alright class!” Terrence started, “Today we’re covering the next section on the American Revolution. Specifically, the Battle of Yorktown...”

Roman mentally punched the air. My time has come. He opened his textbook to the right page but didn’t bother looking at it. He already knew most everything about Yorktown. Not just because he’d listened to the Hamilton soundtrack fifteen and a half million times, but also because he’d done actual research on the event and time period that the musical took place; There was always the off chance he’d get to stage crew or, heck, even dramaturg the show. He liked to be prepared.

“So the battle of Yorktown took place in 1781, but a great deal of its success was thanks to the French Allies. Many especially aided in fighting the British Troops surrounding New York. Now who can tell me where the French Soldiers first landed?”

Roman half raised his hand. He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Logan.” Terrence called.

Roman turned to Logan desk, where his hand was held high and mighty.

“The French Ally ships first landed in Rhode Island, then made their way to Chesapeake Bay,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses. Not even a hint of second guessing in his voice.

“That’s right!”

He almost missed the quick smirk on Logan’s frustratingly pretty face. Look at that smug—thinks he’s so smart...Okay yes, he is smart, but he doesn’t have to be a show off about it. Terrence continued through the passages, calling on a student every now and again to review. Of course, Logan got called on most and he got every answer right. Roman didn’t feel like raising his hand anymore.

“Of course there were many turning points in the revolution, but Hamilton’s return to the field for Yorktown was a key point.” Terrence continued on. “And keep in mind- this was a man who up till now had never been in a position of command before. Not to mention the mental strains he must’ve been under, especially having had to miss the birth of his son Philip, the first of three children he had.”

Wait a sec. “Well, that’s not right.”

Even though he’d muttered, apparently Mr. Terrence still heard him. “Come again, Roman?”

Shoot. “Um, I said,” Stop sounding timid, you know you’re right. “I said that was, um, wrong.”

The whole class turned to him. Oh great, history class has its eyes on me. Roman cleared his throat and tried to look taller.

“What I mean is: Hamilton had eight kids, not three. And on top of that, Phillip was born a few months after they won the Revolution, not during, so Hamilton didn’t miss the birth of his son. I mean sure, it’s a small thing, but the devil’s in the details as they say. Heh.”

Terrence gave the most insultingly bemused look. And Roman definitely heard a few kids snickering behind him. He glanced quickly at the culprits and felt his ears go hot. This is what he got for putting himself in the spotlight.

“Roman, I applaud you for participating in the class discussion,” Their teacher started gently, “but I’m afraid you’re wrong on this one. If you read your textbook close you’d see in the fifth paragraph where it mentions from one of his later letters—“

“Actually Mr. Williams, if I may, Roman is correct.”

Roman saw Logan at his desk, one hand raised while the other adjusted his neck scarf. Was the teacher’s pet actually… backing him up?

“It is a common misconception that Alexander Hamilton only had two children, even more so modernly, what with the musical having only named two of them. However Roman has clearly done his research on the plays historical accuracies, which is more than I can say for some.”

Logan shot a cool but scathing look at their recently snickering classmates and they withered. Roman fought the urge to point and laugh aloud. He did however stick his tongue out real quick. What? He could be shy and petty at the same time.

“My guess,” Logan continued, “is that this textbook edition is also either misprinted or outdated, judging by the publication date in the copyright section.”

Brows furrowed, Terrence looked at the textbook laid open on his desk. He flipped back to the front, before pulling out his cellphone—“I’m the teacher, I’m allowed to do this. You guys aren’t.”—and after what Roman guessed was a quick Google search, their teacher looked up. His eyebrows drawn in a ‘hm, well damn’ expression.

“Looks like you’re right, Roman. And thank you Logan for bringing to my attention about the textbooks. I’ll have to talk to the principal about hopefully getting some updated materials. But we’ll see how that goes,” Terrence, muttered the last part, though Roman was close enough to catch it. Terrence cleared his throat and moved back to the board. “Maybe if we call on assistance from the inside. Much like how the Sons of Liberty sent in Hercules Mulligan to spy on the British...”

“Perhaps if we knew of an immigrant who was unafraid to step in,” Logan said just under his breath.

No one else seemed to notice the reference, but when Roman did, he felt like a mini volcano about to burst rainbow lava. Apparently there was a lot more to his soulmate than first meets the eye; and now that he knew, Roman was determined to see more of it. The rest of class passed quickly and everyone filed out to the halls as the first bell for the last class period of the day rang. Roman made sure to catch up to Logan on the way out and staccato tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Logan?” He said.

When Logan turned, he swore time slowed down for a moment. The brilliant boy’s skirt flared around his waist, and somehow his skin glowed even under the dull, inconsistent school lights. His posture was erect yet natural, he could have been raised among nobility. Amidst the stench and clamor of loud sweaty students, Logan was as poised and striking as the goddess Athena. Oh...

“Yes, Roman?” Logan asked.

Roman gulped. “I uh, just wanted to thank you for backing me up in there.”

“Thanks are unnecessary,” Logan said. “I detest when someone is shamed by other students for speaking up in class, regardless of whether or not they have the correct information.”

“Well regardless, thanks for coming to my aid in the face of academic danger.”

“Dramatic, but my pleas—oof!”

A hurried passerby bumped into Logan from behind, rushing off with a half-assed ‘sorry’. Logan, caught off guard, stumbled right into Roman’s arms. The two looked at each other, cheeks filling with heat. Roman caught a whiff of something faintly floral on Logan, something natural– a lavender and honeysuckle perfume, perhaps. It was heavenly. They were still in the middle of foot traffic though, so he maneuvered them to the side. Which was tricky since Logan was still so close to him and also a good two inches taller with the heels.

“Well,” Roman flashed his pearly whites. “Seems you’ve fallen for me.”

Logan pulled away, but his lips quirked upwards in a teasing smirk. “Oh please, I merely stumbled into you.”

“Ah, but stumbling is the first step towards being swept off your feet.”

“Bold words from an abashedly charming homunculus in such an… eye catching ensemble.”

Did he call me charming!? He composed himself, “Hey, don’t let the sweater vest fool you. I may be short but I’ve got guns.”

“Aaah. But mind over muscle, as they say. Do you find yourself up to the task?”

“Only if it’s you, my brainy blossom.”

Roman’s class was in the other direction, but Logan didn’t need to know that. They walked through the halls, conversing. class was still in the next ten or so minutes, but Roman was having fun. Banter with Logan felt surprisingly easy. Natural like they’d been at it all their lives.

“By the way, was that a ‘Guns n’ Ships’ reference I overheard, pastel poindexter?” Roman asked.

Logan cleared his throat. “It… may have been, yes. I found myself unable to resist toppling the figurative dominos.”

“In other words, you seized the opportunity you saw,” Roman said, matching his own reference to the source’s cadence, which got a chuckle out of Logan.

“Precisely. Under more casual circumstances, I may have even recited Lafayette’s part.”

“You can rap? You can rap Guns n’ Ships? Like, the whole thing, no tongue twists?”

Logan stopped for a moment, turned to Roman. The taller boy cleared his throat, and after a moment wherein he seemed to mentally restrain himself, he simply adjusted his glasses.  “I have an appreciation for poetry.”

Roman blinked rapidly. Holy shit, he’s an even bigger nerd than I am. He definitely needed to see that at some point.

They turned a corner, stopping just outside of the science room. Some students were going in to take their seats, and the teacher was already making notes on the board. Logan pulled an AP Physics book from his backpack, but made no move to leave, much to Roman’s delight.

“So then,” Roman leaned against the eggshell wall, “How come you acted so indifferent earlier and called my tastes basic? Oh, and I think I remember you also implied I was shallow?”

Okay, yeah, he was still kind of salty about that. But then he saw the shamed look on the nerd’s face, and Roman wished he could have taken it back. Logan looked at his shoes then back at him.

“To be candid I was… hesitant to show the full extent of my enthusiasm. In case you thought I’d be—I believe ‘being the most’ is the term— it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve caused someone to lose interest in conversing with me due to informational overload. I nearly bored my Aunt Patricia to sleep once talking about a fascinating article on jellyfish. And considering how I blundered our initial meeting—“

“Pfft, ya think?” He mentally slapped himself again when Logan went tight-lipped and turned to go. “No, no, wait. I—I’m sorry. Truly. ...Truth is, I was no gentleman either. I’m not always great at thinking before I speak. It’s why I’m so awkward around people. Takes a while for my true charming nature to shine through.”

“Clearly. Still, you show a level of interpersonal aptitude that I, well, lack.” Logan fiddled with his hair pin again and a stray hair came loose. “Reading people and expressing emotions has never really been—It’s something I struggle with.”

Much as Logan tried to maintain his cool composed posturing, Roman could tell that this was something that really bothered him. He tried so hard to seem put together and confident and serious, but really he was just as awkward and insecure as anyone. Roman smiled softly and stepped closer to Logan, reaching up to tuck the loose ebony strand behind his ear.

“Hey, everyone’s got things about themselves they can work on. Including me,” Roman smiled. “And believe me when I say that I will never judge you for being passionate about something you like. So if you ever want someone to ramble about jellyfish or Sweeney Todd to or—I dunno, calculators or something?—I’m all ears.”

Logan’s cheeks went pink and he gave a hesitant yet sincere smile. “That’s...very kind of you, Roman. And coincidentally, I also greatly enjoy Sweeney Todd. The use of iambic pentameter and alliteration to give a succinct synopsis to the story in just the first sentence alone is pure brilliance.”

“Right!? I mean the man’s a mad genius. I’m dying to design sets for one of his musicals someday. Like last year? I came up with the concept of having the Sweeney Todd sets done in a way that highlights the class differences with the characters.” Roman went into a small three minute ramble regarding the specifics before he cut himself off abruptly. Logan was blinking rapidly, a look of mild shock crossing his feature. Roman nearly started sweating; Had he messed this up again?

“That… that’s ingenious”

Roman’s ears were burning. Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!

“Hey, Logan!” They both startled and turned to an impatient cheerleader with a ginger undercut and they/them pronoun pin shaped like a coffin. “What’re you doing just standing out in the hall, ya dork? Oh, hey Roman.”

“Uh. Hey, October,” Roman said, waving awkwardly to them.

“I told ya, Red, you only get to call me that when we’re working on a show.”

“Wait, October? Red? You two know each other?” Logan asked, brow arching.

“Kind of. They sometimes help out with costumes for the drama club,” said Roman. And they have terrible timing. I mean seriously Tobes, we were having a moment.

“Come on Lo, class is about to start, and you promised to go over my homework with me real quick beforehand. See ya ‘round, Ro.” Toby grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him into the classroom. “You can fill me in on what you were doing with Red later.”

Logan followed his—apparently—friend into their classroom, but he shot Roman an apologetic look over his shoulder. Roman bounced a bit on the balls of his feet before following halfway into the room. Logan was in his seat with Toby showing him an open notebook. A teacher in a tight grey hair bun was writing on the board. Students at their seats were chatting, and some looked up at the short dork in red who burst in. For once Roman ignored them, his mind set on one last attempt at wooing his green skirted genius while he still had the nerve.

“Hey, Logan,” he said. “I’ve also got some great layout designs for an Into the Woods set. If you’re interested, maybe we can meet up after school and I can show them to you? Maybe we talk a bit more over iced lattes or something?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Prince, seventh period starts in five minutes,” said the teacher. “Unless you’ve suddenly transferred to my class, I suggest you stop distracting my favorite student and get going.”

“I’ll be gone in just a second,” he said. “Well?”

Logan smoothed the silky fabric of his pink scarf and said, “That sounds optimal, Roman. I’ll meet with you. By the first floor water fountain perhaps?”

Roman grinned. “I shall be counting the minutes.”

“Mr. Prince,” said the teacher with a warning glare.

Roman blew a kiss at Logan and then ducked out of the doorway. Was he embarrassed of himself? Oh definitely. Did he regret it? Absolutely not. He felt ten inches tall.

Now to complete the quest of making it to class in time. He slid off a shoulder strap to unzip his classic Mickey backpack, getting out the notebook and the relevant homework. He found them amidst the mess of spiral notebooks, granola bar wrappers, two textbooks and rainbow sticky notes. But something was missing from his folder.

“Where are those– it should be here.” He could’ve sworn he had his stapled the blocking notes in his folder. No, wait, the last place he saw them was— “Ah shoot! I left them in the tech closet again.”

Under normal circumstances, Roman would’ve grabbed them after school, but the auditorium was locked on weekends. He’d have to wait till Monday to get them and that just wouldn't do! he wanted to show Logan his notes today! I’ll bet David Korins never has these kinds of problems. Okay, okay. Still got four minutes. He could rush to the auditorium, grab the notes, and then head straight to class. I should have enough time, right? Right. Besides it was only Spanish Class, he was already pretty fluent after all those summers visiting his grandparent in Nicaragua. He spent most of class time dreaming up blocking notes anyway.

Despite not being totally convinced by his own argument, Roman immediately turned on his heel and started running in the opposite direction. After a teacher told him no running in the halls, Roman power walked through the halls with a skip in his step and a song in his heart, feeling absolutely gay in both senses of the word. Logan had actually called his idea ingenious! And the way those sharp eyes softened just for him- he would squeal if not for the fact that it would draw too many eyes to him. The halls were still filled with a few stragglers rushing to the last class of the day, and he was already trying not to get caught being late for class.

Now he knew how Maria felt in West Side Story. Y’know, before Act 2. Oh sure, they’d gotten off to a shaky start, but as the Bard’s adage on the course of true love said; and Roman felt it in his gut that this was certainly the start of true love. Not just with brilliant Logan but also with soulful Patton as well. He didn’t know how an awkward geek like him ever got so lucky in the soulmate department…Then again, there was still the matter of Virgil. So maybe not so lucky.

Roman touched his arm, remembered flustered yet flattering purple words. I know they both said Virgil is secretly sweet and I can sympathize with the terrors of closet town, but COME ON! Virgil? Really? That gloomy gladiator? There had to be a mistake in that. After all, Patton liked to see the good in everyone. Logan was much more of a skeptic, but he does seem to have a blind spot with sarcasm. Maybe Virgil was messing with them somehow. Even if he’s not a jerk jock, the guy’s still kind of a creepazoid; with his dark eyes and cheeta-esq gait and those probably huge muscles hidden under that bulky jacket and big hands...

His gay disaster train of thought came to a merciful halt as he reached the auditorium. Roman pushed open the doors, took a pause to breathe in the quiet comfort of this chapel of the arts. Okay yeah, chapel was maybe a little kind for the school’s auditorium which doubled as the drama Club’s rehearsal space/prop closet backstage/Mx Joan’s unofficial office because the school didn’t fund the arts programs enough. Even so this space was Roman’s sanctuary. The place where he could help create magic from the shadows, bring stories of those gone and living to life. Here, Roman found something of a community with his fellow backstagers, glee club losers, and budding thespians (the nice ones). So he loved every squeaky stage plank, every duck taped seat cushion and every speck of dust that floated in the spot lit air like fairies.

Mx. Joan wasn’t around for once, thankfully. Probably in the teacher’s lounge or rendezvousing with the school nurse or something. They were pretty chill and Roman knew he was their favorite student, but the choir director/drama club moderator/music teacher (this school really needs to fix its funding habits) wouldn’t have been too keen on Roman being deliberately late for class.

Roman walked down the aisle and to the side room by the stage. It was originally a janitor’s closet, but their club moderator transformed it into a ‘Crew Only’ Storage Unit… Okay it was still a closet, but with less bleach and more coils. This was where they kept important equipment for semester shows, like the lighting and sound boards, along with other supplies. Roman made a quick mental note to get more gaffer tape later, seeing their supply was low.

He looked through the small pile of scribbled and highlighted sheets with the lighting cues for the spring show. I’ve really gotta get a binder for these…Ah-Ha! Here you are! Roman pulled out the stapled sheets titled ‘Into the Woods Dream Set’ and carefully shoved them into his bag. Perfect timing too. He might just be able to make it to class after—

RIIIIIIIIIIING

“GAH!”

What the heck? He could’ve sworn he was alone in there, but that yelp just now said otherwise. Up close, Roman saw that the curtains were rustling, accompanied by sounds of heavy breathing and moaning, yet not a footstep to be seen or heard.

Holy SHIT, this place IS haunted! I KNEW that backdrop fiasco last semester wasn’t caused by cheap slit plywood. My supplies are the best quality allowance money can buy. Great Macbeth’s bloody knife, I TOLD Kai we should've sprung for a ghost light! Remus always teased him for being superstitious but look who’s laughing now.

He dashed back into the crew closet and grabbed the heavy push broom leaning in the corner. Roman Prince was NOT about to be caught unawares and possessed by the ghost of a disgruntled student without a fight. He would defend his domain of imagination!

Roman slowly climbed the stage steps, wielding his broom like a bow staff, turned the curtain corner where the noises were coming from and was about to release a war cry on the—

“Virgil?”

Roman nearly dropped his weapon at the sight of Virgil Alighieri—star athlete, object of his fears and supposed soulmate—curled in on himself trembling and crying.

His jacket was pulled over his head like a hood, yet Roman could see the tear stained face peeking out from underneath. Virgil’s eyes were squeezed tight, making the dark circles he’d never noticed before more prominent. There was no denying the athlete had muscle but he was more lithe—thin enough for Roman to wonder if the guy ate enough. Virgil’s trembling could rival a chihuahua, shaky hands clutching his knees, and he was clearly in the midst of a bad panic attack.

Roman had built Virgil up in his mind as being like some odd combination of Hades and Ares. The strong silent wolf within his pack of jocks, a surging thunderstorm just waiting for the right nerd to come along and piss him off enough to strike down like the bolt of Zeus.

Someone to be afraid of.

But now? Seeing him in this state, all alone and whimpering like a wounded animal...it broke Roman’s heart.

He set the broom down gently and carefully crouched down in front of Virgil. “Virgil,” he said softly. “Virgil, can you hear me?”

Virgil let out a breathy sob but otherwise didn’t seem to register him. Just how long had he been sitting here like this?

Roman was at a loss for what to do. Sure he knew plenty of people with anxiety but never saw someone having an actual panic attack before. He did know that if he didn’t help the other calm down soon, Virgil was liable to pass out. He’d never wanted to hug someone so badly in his life. Roman tentatively reached out a hand but stopped. What if touching him makes it worse? What if I startle him so badly he actually has a heart attack!? Maybe I should get the nurse. But I can’t just leave him like this.

He caught sight of the colorful soulmarks written on Virgil’s arm. Saw his own harsh thoughts: ’Dios mio, he’s staring right at me—like he wants to punch my face!’ 

Roman took his shame and forged it into steel. I won’t abandon you...my soulmate.

Virgirl’s let out a hiccuped cry, and this gave Roman an idea. Something from back when he was a child. It was probably stupid and a long stretch, but it was all he could think of. He readjusted himself so that he was now sitting right next to Virgil, making sure not to startle him. Roman cleared his throat, then as softly as he could, he began to sing.

“Come stop your crying, it’ll be alright.

Just take my hand, hold it tight.”

Roman one and carefully gentled his hand over Virgil’s. After a moment, he felt a light squeeze, and that encouraged him to keep going.

“I will protect you from all around you.

I will be here, don’t you cry…”

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[starsfic]

Smoke and Gold, Chapter 5: Rhythm

Summary: Xiaotian wakes up alone, learns a rule, and starts a rhythm in his new life. @fosermi

AO3

-_-

Xiaotian woke up to an empty bed.

   He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Husband?” he called in confusion, looking around. The room was no longer a void of darkness but he was still alone. His mind scrambled for the name he had been given- right, Red. “Red?” There was no response.

   He was alone.

   He turned sharply at a knock on the door. A servant entered the room with a tray. The smell of breakfast made his stomach rumble. “Good morning, my lord.” they greeted him, giving him the tray. “I hope you slept well?”

   “I did.” Xiaotian craned his neck around them pouring his tea to stare at the door, wondering where his husband was. “Do you know where R- my husband is?” The servant froze before straightening.

   “My lord has an important job.” they explained. “So, he will never be home during the day. But he has a rule.” Xiaotian raised a brow and they stared him down. “Never try to see his face.” The words were solemn and he couldn’t help but nod. They brightened at his agreement, continuing with their work on his breakfast like nothing had happened. “In any case, feel free to explore. He told us to tell you that he is working on getting you some art supplies.”

   Oh, right, their conversation. Something in his chest fluttered at the fact that Red was getting him art supplies. He distracted himself from that by eating breakfast.

   After breakfast, Xiaotian found a closet full of ridiculously nice clothes. He managed to grab a decent, not too fancy, outfit and then set out to explore. It was definitely a demon’s cave with all the demon minions, but any clue to his husband’s identity seemed to be hidden. Instead, he found the same red and gold grandness as his bedchambers.

   It kept him entertained, in any case.

   That night, he ate dinner, bathed, and got into bed. A few minutes later, the room went void dark and the door opened and closed. “Hey,” Red said from the door. He could hear his footsteps before the mattress sank as he sat down in bed. “How was your day?”

   “This place is big.”

   Red chuckled. “Yeah, it is. So…”

“The truck?”

“Right, right.” As promised, he explained his truck to Xiaotian. All he had to do to modify the original was laid out, including an issue in the engine that he hadn’t been able to work out. Curiosity burned in him and he asked questions about the engine, allowing his husband to answer. It helped that he had helped Xiaojiao with her motorcycle in the past. Soon enough, his husband let out a shout of glee, clearly having figured something out. “Thank you!” His face was grabbed and a kiss pressed to his cheek. A moment later, he could feel Red freeze before releasing his face. “...sorry.”

“It’s fine. So, you figured something out?”

Red seemed willing to accept Xiaotian’s dismissal and burst into an explanation of his solution. Finally, he came to an end. “Anyway,” he said, sounding a touch embarrassed. “Did the servants tell you about ordering art supplies?” Xiaotian nodded and there was a happy little huff. “Good. I wasn’t sure what you preferred...so I just got the basics and they should be here in the week. Is there anything special you need? Or prefer?”

He shrugged. His projects had never really been big- the biggest thing was working on his father’s biography comic.“I just really need pencils and paper.”

There was a confirming noise. “So, do you have preferred subjects?”

That was all Xiaotian needed to launch into an explanation about his comic. It was a carefully hidden secret from Wukong, who- as much as he hated to admit- was a very biased source. So far, books and Tang had held the secret close. Red responded with interest, poking informed questions. He even shared some stories he had heard! For a moment, he wished he had his sketchbook.

But it was back at Flower Fruit Mountain. A burst of homesickness filled his chest as he remembered how he had left stuff scattered about, not even having a chance to say goodbye before he left. Would Wukong get rid of it all?

“Xiaotian?” Red said, breaking his thoughts. A warm hand rested on his cheek. “Are you okay?”

He missed home.

“...I’m fine.” He tried to interject some cheer back into his voice. “So, any big projects?"

The rest of the night continued like the one before.

And the day and night after that. And after that. And after that.

A servant informed him his art supplies had been delayed and Red raged about it until Xiaotian assured him he could wait.

He filled his time with exploring. And reading his way through the library. And working his way through the extensive collection of movies and video games he found. And cooking and baking. For the latter, the servants had been surprised but were willing to allow him to do his thing.

A month passed and Xiaotian's life settled into a rhythm.

[from-a-reckless-writer]

Midnight Calls and Moving-In.

Author's Note: IF YOU'RE NOT A SUPERCORP STAN, JUST IGNORE AND SCROLL PAST THIS. Apologies for the long post...

“Alex?”

“God, Kara? What the fuck? It’s 3 a.m.” Alex groggily mutters as she hazily sits up careful not to wake Kelly next to her and checks the time. It was the fucking middle of the night what the hell was Kara calling her for? Despite the initial annoyance she couldn’t help the worry seep through her at the thought of her sister in trouble though.

“D-do you think that I’ve moved in with Lena?” Her sister replies, voice hesitant and shaky.

“What?”

“It’s just uh well, Nia. She said something about me and Lena and erm, how we’re basically living together.” Kara started to ramble, “But, that can’t be. Right, Alex? I mean I have an apartment. I have my own apartment, an apartment where I sleep in and Lena has her own apartment where she sleeps in. Well, I guess I do sleep in her apartment sometimes, BUT ONLY SOMETIMES ALEX! I mean two weeks in a row can still be considered sometimes right, Alex? And-“

Oh, for the love of god.

“Kara, Kara calm down. Again. What?” Alex was way too sleepy for this. She covered double shifts at the DEO today for fuck’s sake. Being the Director ain’t easy. She loves Kara, really she does but this whole ‘Lena this, Lena that’ is getting old. Why can’t Luthor just kiss her and be done with it? Alex is losing sleep because of this, goddsake.

Alex takes a breath and swings her legs on the side of the bed and plants her feet on the ground as she tries to make sense of what her sister is telling her.

“Okay, so you have your own place and Lena has hers and no, Kara, two weeks isn’t considered sometimes. It’s frequent. Way tooo frequent. Now, what exactly is the problem?”

“Uh, I don’t think it’s two weeks?”

“Well, then-“

“I haven’t seen the walls of my apartment for a month, Alex.” Kara quietly admits and then there was a breath, “Rao, Alex! I haven’t seen my apartment for a month! Because all of my clothes are here and my books and my laptop and I hadn’t even realized!” She exclaimed and then there was a bit of shuffling and an ‘Oh, sorry. No, I’m fine. Don’t worry. Sorry, I was just talking to Alex. Go to sleep, it’s fine. Mm-hmm.’

“Kara,” Alex starts, “Was that-“

“Lena, yes.”

“Wait are you-“

“In her bed, yes.”

“At her-“

“Penthouse. Rao, yes. ALEX DO YOU SEE WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT?”

Oh.

Oh, this was rich. Her sister truly was something else.

“So, what exactly are you asking me, Kara?”

“ALEX HOW DID I NOT KNOW WE’VE MOVED IN TOGETHER?!” Kara whispered-shouted.

“Well, I don’t know maybe it’s with the same reason, that you still believe Lena sees you as a friend. Or maybe you just got distracted with all the mind-blowing sex, you don’t tell me about.”

“Alex!”

“What? Like it isn’t true?”

“This isn’t a joke. And, and—Lena and I aren’t having sex! She’s my best friend, okay?”

“Look, Kara we all know you both want something more. For fuck’s sake you’re in her bed right now, and had been sleeping there for God knows how long and you really mean to tell me that there’s nothing?”

Alex pointed out. She just really needs Kara to realize all this sooner, preferably realize it in less than five minutes. Alex needs to curl up and bury her head in Kelly’s hair and sleep goddamnit.

“Alex what do I do?” Her sister finally whispers.

“Oh, sweetie. I advise you two talk. I think you really, really have a lot to talk about. “

“Yeah, yeah. I think so too.”

“And do it as soon as possible, Kara.”

“Yeah. Uhm I guess, I’ll have to tell her how I feel in the morning. Do you think I should mention the whole moving in thing? Do you think we could get a dog? Rao, what if she doesn’t want to move in? Do I take all my stuff back to my apartment? But I really, really love Lena. Lena’s penthouse, er-I meant her penthouse, I love it a lot.” Kara lets it all out in one breath and Alex knows she’s got to play the big sister card right.

“Kara, just talk to her. Yes, you should mention the moving in thing. No, I don’t think Lena would get you a dog. Kara, this is Lena we’re talking about, she would love if you’d move in. No, you won’t need to take all your stuff back at your apartment. I know you love, Lena. Don’t even try to deny it. But in case it all goes to shit—even though that would be the most unlikely thing to happen—I’m here for you, okay?”

She hears a sigh from the other line, “Yeah, okay. Thanks for saying that, Alex. Erm, sorry for waking you. I should probably let you sleep. Good night, Alex.”

“No problem. I love you. Good night, Kara.”

Alex was just about to hang up when,

“WAIT ALEX!”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really think Lena wouldn’t want to get a dog?”

Bonus:

Two weeks later, Alex finds herself balancing two boxes filled with Kara's art supplies in her arms and unto an expensive penthouse. And tries very hard not to trip and dodge as a puppy—enthusiastic as his owner—yaps and runs circles around Alex's legs.

Author's note: So I had this random thought at the back of my mind that while Nia and Kara are out getting coffee Nia asks how Kara and Lena make living together work and Kara almost spits out her coffee. Because, first of all Lena and her weren't living together and *nervous chuckles* where did Nia get that idea from? And it bothers her till she can't sleep and just calls Alex at 3 am because she's a gay mess.

Anyways hope y'all like it. Supercorp endgame. Tell me your thoughts?

[tripleaxeldiaz]

all was golden when the day met the night

chapter 5/5

read on ao3

start from the beginning

As the weekend wears on, Eddie feels more and more like himself. He chalks it up mostly to staying inside with Chris, Disney+, and takeout for two days straight, basking in the unbridled happiness that always seems to surround his son. He knows, though, that a big part of his feeling better is also because of Buck — he’s never had a catharsis like that with anyone, and he thanked Buck by essentially slamming the door in his face as soon as he tried to dig a little deeper. He wanted to help, Eddie wanted him to help, but it was too much and he was too raw, so he just shut down. Defaulted to being closed off as he usually was because it was safe and easy. But Buck is his best friend, one of the people he loves most, and he deserves someone who could be open and honest with him.

Eddie really wants to be that person.

He really needs to apologize.

He tries multiple times, writing and deleting texts, planning scripts in his head but never hitting the call button. The words keep getting jumbled and they don’t feel like enough, don’t feel like they’re fully expressing how much Eddie wants to tell Buck everything, wants to fully let him in, if Buck is still interested. If he’s not, Eddie’s really not sure what he’s going to do. 

He braces himself on Monday, but Buck doesn’t come in. He sees him through the window as he parks and all but falls out of his car, hurrying toward Armageddon. He stops at the front door of the shop, knocks, smiles, and waves, before hurrying off again.

It’s fine. It’s fine. He’s just running late.

He doesn’t see him at all Tuesday, but gets a selfie of a sad looking Buck wrapped in a blanket with a mug of tea and a message reading sinus infections suck ))):. He smiles as he tells him to feel better, and things almost feel normal. Maybe this is just how Buck wants to play it — pretend that Eddie didn’t have a complete breakdown and go back to how things used to be, to how they used to be, whatever that was. If that’s what’s going to make Buck happiest and keep him in Eddie’s life, that’s what Eddie will do. He’ll smash all his feelings back into a box and set it on fire if he has to. Whatever it takes to make sure Buck never leaves.

The door above the shop rings on Wednesday morning, but Eddie’s too absorbed in trying to balance the numbers of a recent wedding to notice. A shadow falls over his laptop, and when he looks up, he’s face to face with Buck, backlit in the golden glow of the early morning sunlight, looking like an angel even in his usual all black. Eddie feels his mouth go dry and his heartbeat pick up.

“You know,” Buck says, his smile easy as always, even if his shoulders look a little tense, “you’re pretty cute when you’re trying to do math.”

It’s a knee jerk reaction to roll his eyes and shake his head, and he smiles too as he sees Buck relax. “At least I know how to do math,” he fires back, laughing at Buck’s mock outrage. Just like that, they’re back in their old routine. 

“That’s what I have Maddie for. She’s the brains of the whole operation, and I’m the beauty.”

“What’s Chimney then?”

“He’s dead meat after he let my flowers die while I was gone for a day.”

Eddie snorts as he gets the craft paper. “Well, math might be hard, but replacing flowers is easy. Any requests?”

Buck just shrugs, smiling softly at Eddie now. “Whatever you’re feeling.”

Eddie’s been trying to figure that out for the past four days, but it’s so much easier when Buck asks him to do it with flowers. He wraps the bouquet and turns back to Buck, holding the flowers between them like a shield. 

Buck cocks his head, confused. Eddie clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “I’m really sorry about last week. You were just trying to help, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’ve got...a lot of stuff to sort through, and I didn’t want to put that burden on you.”

Buck’s smile gets softer still as he reaches out to hold Eddie’s wrist. “It’s okay, I get it. But I meant what I said — I’m here for you no matter what. However and whenever you need me.” He takes the bouquet from Eddie, holding it in the crook of his arm. “Are these apology flowers to match your apology speech?”

Eddie laughs, trying to ignore the embarrassed blush he feels growing on his cheeks. “I guess so. Yellow roses literally mean apology, purple hyacinth means asking for forgiveness, and red carnations—” mean something that you absolutely can’t tell him, he finishes in his head. He freezes for a second, scrambling for any other reason for including them, before lamely landing on— “They just looked nice.”

Luckily, Buck takes it, no questions asked. 

As he leaves, Eddie feels a weight go with him, feels more like himself than he has in days. Buck is still here. He saw Eddie at his lowest and it didn’t scare him off. And while that’s all well and good, it feels fragile and new, like something that could break the minute Eddie tries to make it more than friendship like he still so desperately wants. 

Instead, he resolves to ball his feelings back up in his chest, hiding them away like he’s done for months and months now. He promised himself he’d do whatever it takes to make sure Buck sticks around, and he meant it. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The sun is setting as he enters Armageddon, in a surprisingly good mood given everything that’s happened the past two weeks. He makes his way to the back, distracted by trying to figure out what to do with his weekend. Maybe they can go to the art museum Chris has been raving about, look at all the works that don’t make any sense to Eddie but can keep Chris enraptured for hours. Maybe Buck will come along to explain everything.

He’s distracted enough that he doesn’t register Buck and Chris’s conversation until he’s halfway to the table they’re sitting at in the back room. When he does finally tune in, he stops, just out of sight, and feels his whole body start to go numb.

“It says they mean ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Please forgive me’. Is that what Dad said they meant? Was he sorry about something?” Chris is reading from a school library book, the bouquet from earlier this week on the table between him and Buck. 

Buck looks at the flowers, smiling almost sadly, before turning back to Chris. “Yeah, that’s what he said too. We just got into an argument, but gave me these flowers, so it’s okay now.” He turns back to the flowers, fingers playing with a stray stem that had fallen off as they wilted. “What does it say about red carnations?”

Chris flips through the book, eventually landing on the page he was looking for. Eddie braces himself as quietly as he can, because he knows exactly what Chris is going to read. “There’s a lot of meanings for different colors, but it says that if you give someone red carnations, it means you love them and feel something special for them. What did Dad say?”

His sharp intake of breath is completely involuntary, fueled purely by panic. Both heads snap toward him immediately, Chris’s face lighting up, Buck’s looking stunned. He tries to keep his own face as normal as possible, but his eyes feel wild and he’s hot all over and he just needs to get Chris and get out.

“Dad! I got a book about flowers from the library so I can know what they mean just like you!”

He really hopes his smile is genuine, because as happy as he is that his son wants to be anything like him, he also feels about 15 seconds away from passing out. “That’s great, buddy. Can you grab your stuff so we can go?”

Chris hops off the chair to pack up, filling the would-be uncomfortable silence with his usual chatter about school, what he’s reading, and what he did with Buck all afternoon. Eddie very pointedly keeps his eyes on his son the whole time, nodding and commentating more than normal so he’s not tempted to look at Buck and completely fall apart. Chris hugs Buck tight around the middle before heading for the door, forcing Eddie to acknowledge Buck without any kind of buffer.

“Thanks for watching him, we’ll see you later, okay?” he says, looking at a spot just over Buck’s shoulder. He doesn’t wait for a response, just rushes out, following after Chris even as he hears Buck call his name.

Surely, Buck will just brush this off. He won’t think twice about why Eddie actually included the carnations and just move on. They’ll be fine, Eddie won’t lose him because of his loud, dumb feelings, and the whole thing will blow over by Monday. He repeats it in his head over and over, willing it to be true.

They’re through the front door and halfway down the sidewalk before Buck catches up with them.

“Eddie, wait!”

Apparently, his force of will is not as strong as he thought.

Eddie skids to a stop, letting Chris run ahead to the store. He closes his eyes and prepares himself, because this is it. The moment he had been trying to prevent for months. He’s off the edge of the cliff, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He takes a deep breath before he turns around.

Buck is watching him. He looks confused and a little worried, and Eddie’s palms itch to reach out and somehow make it better. He jams his hands into the pockets of his jeans instead.

“The carnations weren’t just for show, were they?” Buck asks, slowly, quietly, like he’s trying not to spook a caged animal. 

He could lie. He could tell him they didn’t mean anything, that they really just looked nice. He could deny it over and over, and he knows eventually Buck would give in and let it go. They’d go back to square one where they’ve been for so long that Eddie can see ruts forming in their routine.

He’s so tired, though. Tired of lying, tired of wrestling with his feelings and trying to keep them from cracking his ribs and breaking free. And Buck had already seen him lower than rock bottom, and he stayed. Maybe he would stay after this, too.

“No”, Eddie says, shaking his head. “They weren’t just for show. Neither were the gardenias or pink camellias or red tulips, none of them were. You can look them up if you don’t believe me.”

Buck freezes, eyes wide, still as Eddie has ever seen him. And for as much as Eddie is usually a coward, he decides this is the moment to be brave.

“I love you,” he says in a rush. “I’ve loved you for a while, and I didn’t know how to say it out loud, so I just gave you love in flowers instead. You’re everything, Buck, to me and to Chris, and I just didn’t want to lose you or scare you away because I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you left. We need you, in whatever way we can have you.”

He can feel himself shaking as he stops talking, face hot with a furious blush of embarrassment, he’s sure. He never stops looking at Buck though, waiting for him to say something, anything, even telling him to fuck off and never speak to him again would be better than silence. 

He waits, and Buck just looks at him with an expression he can’t decipher. He looks and looks, and with every passing second, Eddie feels the world crumbling down around him.

The numbness is back, this time laced with the sting of rejection. He takes a few steps backwards as he feels tears start to prick at the back of his eyes, turning toward the store before they’re too noticeable.

He stops when he feels Buck’s hand wrap around his wrist, holding him in place. “Eddie, please,” he says, sounding close to tears himself. “I— I don’t know what to say, I—”

Eddie pulls his wrist back, Buck letting go without a fight. “It’s fine, Buck. Just forget about it.”

He walks away, tears falling without shame. 

He half hopes Buck follows him. 

He doesn’t.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie is not hiding. He is strategically avoiding.

He tries to process everything over the weekend, but come Monday, he still can’t bring himself to face Buck, to have the talk where he tells Eddie that he just wants to be friends and nothing more. Because he’ll say that, but things won’t go back to normal. They’ll be awkward and stilted and they’ll drift farther and farther apart until they’re no longer in each other’s orbit, practically strangers. He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t know what he’d do with himself without Buck, and he really doesn’t want to try figuring that out now.

So Buck comes in every day like normal, and every day Eddie finds an excuse to busy himself in the back room and let Hen handle him. It only takes her two visits to catch on and pry every detail out of him.

“Eddie, I love you, but you’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met,” she tells him when he finishes his story.

“Thank you for kicking me when I’m down,” he says, voice muffled from where his head is pressed to the table. She grabs a hold of his wrist, tugging it until he sits up and gives her his attention.

“Look,” she says. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on in Buck’s head, but he looks about as heartbroken as you do, if not worse. You have to talk to him. If you love him like you say you do, you owe him that much, at the very least.”

She’s right, of course, but that doesn’t mean Eddie is happy about it. Nor does it mean he’s going to jump headfirst into talking about his feelings like he did the last time. He tried being brave, and look where that got him.

He’s still biding his time (and licking his wounds) when he comes back from a delivery a few days later to an eerily quiet store. It’s late afternoon, when they’re normally busy with people picking up bouquets for date nights on their way home from work, but he doesn’t hear any voices when he comes in the back door or see Hen running around with fistfuls of flowers. He walks to the front and stops dead before he can call out for anyone. 

Buck is there, once again lit up by the sunlight streaming through the windows, standing next to a vase holding the biggest bouquet Eddie thinks he’s ever seen. He looks nervous, biting his lip as he watches Eddie walk closer, no doubt waiting for a reaction. Eddie’s honestly dumbstruck, because not only is it huge, but he immediately registers the meaning behind each flower he sees.

Blue violets for devotion, forget-me-nots for true love, yarrow for everlasting love. Aster, red chrysanthemums, honeysuckle. Rainflowers asking for returned affection and jasmine for love without conditions. They’re all surrounded by moonflowers for dreaming of and hoping for love. The whole thing is an explosion of color and scents and emotions and it’s beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the man standing next to it.

“I didn’t know what to say last week,” Buck says quietly, gaze moving from the flowers to Eddie. There’s a blush crawling up his cheeks that rivals any rose or carnation. His smile unfurls like a lily in the summertime. “I figured I’d try speaking your language instead.”

Eddie turns to Buck fully, tries to say something, but the words get stuck in his throat as his mind tries to process the sheer amount of things he’s feeling. He has half a mind to pinch himself, make sure he’s not dreaming, but he knows he isn’t. This is better than anything in his wildest fantasies because it’s real.

He’s snapped back to the present moment when he feels Buck’s hands on his, slotting their fingers together. Eddie squeezes instinctually, holding on for dear life, because he feels like he’s about to crack again — not from despair this time, but from sheer, unfiltered joy. It only gets bigger when he looks at Buck and sees it reflected in his eyes, too.

“Eddie,” he says, a laugh bubbling out of him like the happiness is overwhelming. “I love you. I love you so much. I think I’ve loved you from the minute I ran into the store for the first time, and it’s been snowballing ever since.” He brings a hand up to Eddie’s cheek, wiping away tears he didn’t even know were falling. He leans into the touch, smile only growing because it’s warm and perfect, like he always knew it would be. “You said I was everything to you and Chris, but you two are more than everything to me. I want to be here, with you, for you, for as long as you’ll let me.”

And because he is who he is, because he’s been living with his parasitic self doubt for longer than anyone should, Eddie pauses. His mind flashes through all his shadows and darkness lingering under this momentary happiness, and while it’s overwhelming and good and true, he still doubts. 

“I’m a mess,” he says, feeling Buck tighten his hold like he’s afraid he’ll try to run. “You saw it up close. I can’t guarantee it won’t always be that bad. Are you sure you want to deal with all this?”

“I want everything with you, Eddie. Good, bad, and ugly. You can’t scare me away that easily. I won’t let you.”

For once, there’s no rebuttal. He knows Buck is telling the truth, feels it in every part of him. If he focuses enough, he swears he feels a little less darkness around him. But there’s so much going on in his head that he doesn’t know what to say anymore, can’t figure out how to express to Buck exactly what all of this means to him. 

He’s still not great at words, but he’s as good at actions as he is at flowers.

There’s no fireworks or angels singing when they kiss, and it takes a few tries for them to stop smiling enough for their teeth to get out of the way. But once they fall into a rhythm, Buck hands on Eddie’s hips, Eddie’s hands running through Bucks curls, the whole world falls away until it’s just them. It’s a slow, gentle thing, but Eddie pours everything he’s hiding into it, hoping that Buck picks up on how much and how deeply he loves him. If the smile he feels on Buck’s lips is any indication, he thinks the message is loud and clear.

They pull away eventually but only to rest their foreheads together, soaking up each other. Eddie’s still smiling as he leans in, placing kisses on whatever parts of Buck’s face he can reach, just because he can. He feels the rumble of Buck’s laugh in his own chest, and almost wants to cry again at the realization that he’s going to be able to feel that laugh whenever he wants, have it memorized and tucked away in his mind for when the darkness is too loud.

He always knew Buck had enough light in him for both of them. Now he gets to prove himself right.

He pulls back a little more, taking in every feature of Buck’s happiness, fingers coming up to gently trace over his birthmark.

“Does this mean I get free tattoos for life?” he asks. Buck’s laugh is sharp and surprised, and they dissolve into giggles and kisses and touches like they’re teenagers again.

Eddie knows that it won’t always be this perfect — things will be hard, they’ll be tested again and again, and sometimes things will feel too dark for either of them to bear. But the light will always come back, they’ll grow stronger, blossoming in ways they never could on their own.

Eddie has been hiding in the shadows for too long. Buck is finally bringing him into the sunshine.

[wandas-sunshine]

The Muse’s Dance - Part 1

Summary: Steve is a fine arts major, (Y/N) is a dance major. Their meeting wasn’t supposed to be anything big, but Steve is sure he’s found his new muse, and (Y/N) is suddenly convinced that maybe she doesn’t have to choose between her career and a relationship.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 4497

Warnings: Nude modeling, this is sickeningly sweet, tooth rotting fluff. Smut in the next chapter

A/N: This is gonna be a little mini-series for you guys. Three parts plus an Epilogue. Song and dance inspo for the girls’ showcase piece is here. Please please please tell me what you guys think because I am seriously in love with this concept.

Classes had ended a couple hours earlier, but students were still milling about the academy hallways. Steve had been in one of the art studios in the visual arts building, desperately trying to finish part of his project for the big winter showcase coming up. He was almost getting somewhere, but his progress was cut short since he’d promised Nat to meet her before dinner at her and Bucky’s place.

That’s how he found himself wandering the dance wing, side stepping out of the way of a few girls strutting down the hall like they owned the place. Around the next corner, there was a pair of girls showing each other complicated foot work that would have had Steve tripping over himself. He glanced down at his phone once more.

‘Meet me in studio 22B’ The text from Natasha read. He was already running late, and he’d most certainly left early. But eventually he found the dance studio she’d told him to come to. He slipped quietly through the door. Music filled the small room as the trio of girls danced in front of a wall of mirrors. He tucked himself into the corner like his presence would disrupt their rehearsal.

He watched curiously. He’d seen Natasha dance a million times, she was amazing. The girl opposite her in their little v-formation, one Maria Hill, was easily as good. She’d been dancing with Nat since they were pre-teens. But the dancer between them was a mystery. A stunning, seductive, completely enchanting mystery.

She moved with such grace, such sensuality, that he almost felt like he should look away. But he didn’t dare. There was no way he’d ever forgive himself if he stopped watching her. She had him blushing to the tips of his ears, and his heart was damn near beating out of his chest. Even as the music stopped, Steve struggled to look away. She could’ve been a supermodel, a goddess even. Her skin was flushed, and her hair was slipping into her face. And the smirk on her lips was downright sinful. She was his new favorite work of art.

“Enjoy the show, Stevie?” Maria teased, grabbing her water bottle and taking a long drink. Steve’s crystal blue eyes snapped away from the girl and over to Maria, and he cleared his throat like he’d been caught in the midst of something absolutely awful. He was sure his cheeks were flaring as red as Nat’s hair, Then the musical giggle from the mystery girl’s mouth nearly turned his knees to jelly.

“Yeah! That was...wow, I mean...you guys were…” He stammered before sheepishly nodding and praying to whatever god may be that his point had gotten across so they didn’t ask him to clarify. His eyes wandered back towards the girl. Her hands were on her hips, and her smile was bright enough to light up an entire auditorium. Then that smile tugged into a critical pout. Even so, she was stunning.

“I need to emote more,” She turned and picked up her towel, wiping away the sweat that clung to her skin. “I have to keep working on it.”

“We’ve been working on it for hours.” Maria scoffed. Natasha sighed and glanced at the time. She was already leaving twenty minutes later than she’d planned. She crouched down at her bag, putting her things away and lifting it onto her shoulder.

“I really have to go. We promised Bucky we’d be home for dinner.” She explained, nodding towards Steve. Maria had already started her cool down stretches.

“I have a date in a few hours. Have to get cleaned up.” Maria announced, twisting herself into positions that had Steve flinching. “Sorry, babe. You’re on your own.”

(Y/N) huffed softly. So much for friends. She was never going to make it in the real world if she couldn’t get her stupid routine right for the end of semester showcase.

“That’s alright. I’ll work on my own for a bit.” She insisted with a smile. Steve hardly knew her, but he had a feeling she’d work herself half to death if they left her there alone. He wasn’t big on the idea. 

“You better be out of here by dark.” Nat warned, giving her the dangerous glare that Steve had been on the receiving end of one too many times. 

“Yes ma’am.” (Y/N) agreed quickly. Before Steve and Natasha were out of the room, she’d started the music up again.

As he walked alongside Natasha, Steve fidgeted with the pencil he’d tucked behind his ear. Nat didn’t say anything, just waiting for him to ask the question she knew was coming.

“Hey, Tasha, who was that girl back there with you and Hill?” He asked finally. Natasha smiled knowingly. There was no way to miss the way he looked at her, like he just wanted to look at her for the rest of his life.

“That’s (Y/N). She’s majoring in dance too. She’s really good, but she just doesn’t see it.” Natasha explained. “She’s also super single. And perfect for you.”

Steve rolled his eyes. It wasn’t like the redhead ever managed to keep her nose out of his love life. She was even worse than Bucky. She’d tried to hook him up with half of her classmates at one point or another.

“She’s really talented.” He mumbled, his brain replaying the routine they’d been doing. He only sort of recognized the song. It was from Burlesque if he remembered right. Bucky’s sister loved that movie. “Is that for the Showcase?”

She nodded, walking ahead of him like she was worried that they’d be too late and Bucky would slaughter them. Steve took a few long strides to catch up once they made it to the apartment complex just off campus.

“How’s your piece going?” She asked as she unlocked the door and called out to Bucky that she was home. Steve scrunched up his nose.

“It’s coming along.” He answered, taking his jacket off and setting his bag down. “I have to find another model though. Hope bailed on me. That alone is going to take me another year.”

Bucky laughed from the kitchen where he was working on the meal. The three of them had these little ‘family dinners’ about once a month or so. Steve rolled his eyes and grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“I’m serious! Everyone’s so busy with their own projects that nobody has the time.” He took a drink and leaned back against the counter.

“You could ask (Y/N).” Natasha suggested with a smirk. She watched proudly as he blushed a bright shade of pink. Usually Steve was completely professional when it came to his art, but the idea of asking (Y/N) to be a nude model for him had him flustered.

“I’m sure she’s busy with her own stuff. I’ll figure something out.” He insisted. But there was absolutely no way that Natasha was going to let it go that easily. She had a plan.

By the time (Y/N) got home, it was well past dark. She was exhausted, and sweaty, and still felt like she wasn’t  doing her number justice. Part of her was wondering if she was just lacking the confidence. She had heard it a million times growing up, that she had the technique down pat, but that it would never be outstanding until she was confident that it could be. She was never very good at that part.

When she made it into her dorm, her roommate Wanda was running lines, as she most often was. (Y/N) did her best not to distract her, setting all of her things down and plugging her phone in. She was in desperate need of a shower, her skin still sticky with dried sweat.

“Hey, how’s your number coming along?” Wanda asked with her usual cheery, sweet tone. Truthfully, Wanda was the only thing keeping her sane with the showcase just a month away. (Y/N) groaned dramatically.

“The number is going to be the death of me.” She sat on the edge of her bed and ran her fingers through her hair. “Not to mention that I haven’t made any progress whatsoever these past few hours. All because Nat’s hunky friend had to come in and be all cute. Threw off my groove.” She crossed her arms and huffed.

“Maybe you’re just stressing yourself out too much. You probably just need a little break.” Wanda had never stopped saying that to her, and she never seemed to tire of reminding her constantly that she worked too hard.

“You know I can’t just...stop practicing.” She grabbed her shower bag and a change of clothes. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Passion makes perfect.” Wanda corrected as her roommate headed for the showers. (Y/N) rolled her eyes. How many times had she heard that?

The shower did nothing to ease (Y/N)’s anxiety, though it did wonders for her sore muscles. She returned to her dorm with every intention to listen to Welcome To Burlesque on repeat and run the choreo in her head until she fell asleep. However, a few new texts changed those plans. She swiped them open and felt her nerves build again.

‘Hey, remember when you had to bail on Pietro’s dance and I covered for you? And you said that you owed me one?’ Natasha had sent. (Y/N) definitely remember. She’d caught some awful virus that had her puking her guts out every half hour and she’d promised Pietro that she’d be his dance partner for a choreographing class he was taking. Natasha had saved the day and stepped in. The next text made her eyes go wide.

‘How do you feel about nude modeling?’

She bit down on her lip. This was not going to end well and she knew it. But Nat had been there every time she needed someone to save the day, and she really did owe her big time. Not to mention she could use a good confidence boost. What did she have to lose? Besides maybe a few hours of rehearsal.

‘Nat, what are you getting at?’ She questioned, curling up on her bed.

‘I have a friend that needs a model for his showcase project. Thought maybe you could help him out.’ Her answer came quickly and (Y/N) hesitated. What the hell was she getting herself into?

‘Send me the info and I’ll be there’ She decided before she had a chance to back out. She’d never modeled for anyone before, and definitely never in the nude. And for something as important as the showcase? But if she could dance in front of hundreds of people, she could do this too.

The next day felt like it crept on almost painfully slow as she sat through her classes. She was supposed to meet this guy on the other side of campus 20 minutes after her last class. She shoved her things into her bag quickly, still in her workout clothes from her jazz class.

Truthfully, she’d only been in the visual arts building once before, and that was during her freshman campus tour. She wandered the halls, searching until she found the right door. One glance at the time and her worry set in. Shit, she was late. She pushed the door open, startling the man working intently inside. She flinched and dropped her bag.

“Shit, sorry. Did I make you mess up?” She asked frantically. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find…” Her words trailed off as she finally looked up at the man she was modeling for. And Steve was staring right back. “Oh, hi again.”

“Hey, hi...you’re...you’re my model?” He asked nervously. She felt her heart sink and her stomach twist into knots. She knew this was an awful idea. Nervous thoughts began swirling through her head. What if she wasn’t good enough for his vision? What if she was going to ruin his piece? What if he just hated her and didn’t want to waste his time drawing her?

“You alright, doll?” He quirked an eyebrow at her and she jerked out of her thoughts, nodding stiffly.

“Yeah. I’m just a little bit nervous. I’ve never been someone’s model before.” She confessed with a smile that had Steve’s stomach in a tizzy. “But I owed Nat for all the times she’s saved my ass.”

Steve nodded and returned a smile that would have knocked her right off her feet if she’d dared to look at him straight on. He was so handsome...not that she had much time for pretty boys and their big blue eyes. She had a career to focus on.

“It’s alright. We’ll go at your pace. You won’t be very much fun to draw if you aren’t comfortable.” He stated sincerely, motioning her over. She ventured forward and he nodded towards a pale pink robe. “You can change into that and I can show you my concept for the piece.”

It wasn’t an order, simply an offer. She nodded and picked up the robe, stepping just out of his sight to strip down and change. Like the true gentleman he was, Steve made no attempt to peek at her as she changed.

Once she had put the robe on and folded her clothes into a neat little pile, she pulled up a stool beside him. He had been working on a piece that had her stunned into silence. He had clearly put a lot of effort into the image. It showed a naked girl draped elegantly over a chair. It was so beautiful that it was hard to look away.

“Like it?” Steve asked. She turned to glance at him, a nervous smile nudging the corners of her lips.

“It’s incredible. You know, I had been worried about being drawn by someone, but you just might manage to make me look beautiful.” She nudged his shoulder and giggled quietly.

“Making you look beautiful is easy.” He barely whispered the words, and she expected him to be teasing her. When her eyes met his, her stomach did a somersault. There was nothing but sincerity and admiration behind the ocean blue of his eyes. Her cheeks burned how.

“Thanks, Steve.” She murmured. There was a long quiet moment before she spoke again. “So, how about you show me that concept?” That seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he had fallen into. He reached for his sketchbook, carefully turning pages. She caught short glimpses of several sketches. One of a young woman she didn’t recognize holding a baby, then one of Natasha and her boyfriend curled up with smiles lighting up their faces. One showed just Bucky, then Maria’s boyfriend Sam (not that either of them admitted they were together). Then, much to her surprise, she noticed a small sketch of her doodled into the corner of a page. One more page was flipped, and Steve offered it to her.

He showed her how the five pieces would come together. An overarching theme of head vs heart ran through them each.

“See, it starts almost completely black and white when she’s caught up too much in her head. Then when she gives in to her heart, she’s in full color. I want that to be you.” He turned his head to look at her with a grin.

Ever since she had come into the picture, Steve’s idea had really come together. It was becoming something he thought he could be proud of. Almost like she was his muse, the missing piece. She was the heart he needed to win against his anxious head. 

“No pressure,” She scoffed playfully. She was beyond honored to be the star of his masterpiece. She wasn’t even sure she deserved it. “Do you wanna...get started then?” She glanced at the table sitting in the middle of the room and shyly twirled the tie of her robe around her finger.

“Yeah, sure, yeah. I’m ready whenever you are.” He stammered quickly. He’d been staring at her again. Had she noticed? Not that people didn’t regularly stare at her. She was a dancer, and an absolutely breathtaking person to begin with. He figured she had people throwing themselves at her feet.

“Steve? How do you want me to…” She vaguely motioned towards the sheet covered table. Steve quickly snapped back into reality. His stunning blue eyes met hers for a second before he slipped into artist mode. He didn’t look at her like she was an object there for his pleasure, didn’t appraise her naked form. That was always something that had plagued her mind when she thought about nude modeling. Instead he let his eyes wander over every inch of her before making his decision. He stood up and walked over with a sort of confidence she hadn’t seen in him before.

“Go ahead and lay down on your back.” He instructed gently. She nodded and lifted herself onto the table, laying back and looking over at Steve. His eyebrows were knit together, leaving a cute little crease between them as he examined her once more. For a split second, he was chewing on his lip, and her mind was wandering in totally unprofessional ways.

“Here, bend this leg up, and go ahead and twist your hips just…” He tapped her knee, then her hip, doing as much as he could to position her without putting his hands on her. She did as he said, propping her leg up and angling her hips away from him. “Then stretch your far arm up like you’re grabbing something out of the air.”

She looked over at him again before doing as he said, stretching for some imaginary object that was just out of her reach. He rested his hands on his hips before nodding a little.

“Would you be able to arch your back a little more and hold it for me?” He asked. She adjusted her post, arching off the table. It wasn’t the most naturally comfortable pose, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. Steve had the brightest smile on his lips, like everything was finally falling into place the way he’d hoped it would. And oh what she wouldn’t give to make him smile like that every single day.

“Do you want me to turn on some music? Sometimes it makes people more comfortable.” He asked. She shrugged a tiny bit.

“Sure, anything you’d like is fine.” She agreed. Steve quickly pulled up a playlist and started the music. She didn’t bother prying her eyes away from him as he set to work.

He was beautiful, truly exquisite. She couldn’t help the thought that it was almost disappointing that Steve was the artist and not the subject. The way his lips pursed as he worked had her fantasizing. Nothing filthy, but that was almost worse. She imagined curling up beside him and watching him draw, or looking over to him after running a number and seeing his precious little pout while he worked on whatever his newest project happened to be.

“You’re really passionate about your art, huh?” She observed quietly. He looked up and flashed her a little half-smile. Her heart fluttered dangerously.

“Art has gotten me through a lot of rough times.” He admitted. “I was a real sickly kid. Couldn’t usually go out and do much. So I got good at art.” He was quiet for a second, seeming to zone in on a particular part of the piece. It was strange for her to imagine the hulking mass of muscle before her being small and frail as a boy.

“You’re incredible, really. It’s an honor to model for your showcase piece. I know it’s probably really important for you.” She talked, letting him focus his energy on his art. But she noticed the smile beginning to curl onto his lips.

“Honestly, I think you’re the prettiest model I’ve ever drawn.” He told her, a pale pink crawling up his neck. “I mean, with your clothes on too.” She bit her lip to fight off her giggle. A hint of the flustered guy from the day before threatened to break through his calm and collected professional demeanor.

“Thanks, Steve. That’s sweet.” She mumbled. God, did he have to be so damn charming? Relationships were supposed to be the last thing on her mind. Especially with her next big performance just around the corner.

“You know, you’re really talented too.” Steve spoke after a few beats of silence. He remembered what Nat had said about her not believing she was a good dancer. (Y/N) sighed softly.

“You really think so? I know everybody says this, but I feel like I’ll never be good enough to make it in the big leagues.” She confessed. Steve paused his work. He tried his hardest to hide the disbelief that hit him.

“I really think so. Don’t tell Tasha, but I think you might be the best dancer I’ve ever seen.” His words eased her worries for a moment and set her cheeks aflame.

“Thanks. You’re really really kind. It’s sort of nice just talking to someone. I’m always so preoccupied with rehearsals, and classes, and auditions. I guess I never really take the time to slow down anymore.” She had been hearing the same thing since she decided in elementary school that she was going to make a living being a dancer. But being there with Steve gave her a new perspective. She really sort of liked the clarity he brought her.

“Maybe what you need — you can relax the arm — is someone to help you out. You know, remind you to take a breather every now and then.” He didn’t look up. His eyebrows furrowed together again as he tried to get the muscle definition of her thigh just right. She hummed thoughtfully.

“Yeah, maybe.” She was always wary of letting people into her life. Too many people meant a whole slew of distractions. But if slowing down always felt so nice… “Maybe you can help reel me in sometimes.”

Steve beamed, suddenly overwhelmed with pride at her willingness to let him into her little world. Then he nodded.

“I’d be happy to try.”

The two didn’t talk much after that, just continued their slow, drawn out conversations with replies every few minutes until the sun had gone down and Steve was satisfied with his progress. He set to packing his things up, and (Y/N) stood up and put her clothes back on.

“Thank you for doing this.” He turned to look at her as she pulled her shirt and sweater back on. Suddenly he wasn’t in professional mode. He was just Steve Rogers, a man alone with an intimidatingly beautiful woman. He fiddled with one of his pencils, sending her another glance. “I think you saved my ass on this one.:

She flashed a blinding smile and let out a bubby laugh that nearly melted him. She was incredible, and Steve was beginning to regret that one time that he’d told Bucky that he didn’t believe in love at first sight.

“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re a talented artist, you would have figured something out.” She argued, crouching to tie her shoes and doing her best not to meet his gaze for fear that she wouldn’t be able to make herself look away.

“Maybe, but you made it a hell of a lot easier.” He agreed as she finished with her laces.

“Happy to help. But it’s late, I should get back before my roommate starts to worry.” She told him reluctantly. He nodded his understanding and picked up her bag, swinging it onto his broad shoulder. She tipped her head and lifted an eyebrow in response.

“You said you needed to get home. And my ma woulda had my head if I ever let a lady walk alone in the dark. I’m not gonna let her down now.” He explained, clicking off lights around the room. She smiled and tipped her head down so that maybe her blushing wouldn’t be noticed. She needed to get a grip. He was just a guy! A handsome, talented, charmingly chivalrous guy.

“Alright, but only because I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble with your mom.” She gave in, but Steve had already known she would. He flicked off the last light as they headed out the door.

The walk to the dorms wasn’t a particularly long one, and a comfortable silence fell over the pair, both of them lost in their own thoughts. (Y/N) gave up on trying to keep her mind from wandering. She imagined Steve walking her home after her performances, or after a nice dinner date. Then she was imagining him kissing her goodnight slow and sweet before she went inside. She looked over at him only to find him already looking her way.

He’d put his backpack on properly, her bag hiked up on his shoulder, and his hands tucked into the front pockets of his paint stained jeans. He hadn’t even noticed the way he was simply staring at her. He was too busy thinking about the way she carried herself. Even when she was just walking, she was so graceful, each step was taken with such conviction that it was clear she was a dancer. She made existing look like a flawless performance. He wouldn’t mind doing this more often. Walking her to wherever she needed to go, carrying her bag just so she wouldn’t have to be bothered.

When they reached her building, (Y/N) led the way to the elevator. She pressed the button for her floor, and neither of them spoke. Despite all the open space, they stayed close to one another, their arms brushing with every movement. He let her lead the way to her door where he reluctantly passed her bag back to her. She settled it on her shoulder and looked up at him.

“Do you live off campus?” She asked, pulling out her keys. Steve nodded and she held out her hand. “Let me give you my number. If I can’t walk you home I can at least make sure you get there safe.”

Steve didn’t dare argue with her. He simply handed over his phone and watched her plug in her number. She lifted the device, snapping a picture of him and texting it to herself before giving it back.

“Text me as soon as you get in, understand?” She threatened playfully, poking her finger into his very...very firm chest.

“Yes, ma’am.” A chuckle rumbled from his chest, and she appeared satisfied with the answer. She unlocked her door and nudged it open.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night, (Y/N). I’ll talk to you when I get back home.” He promised. She nodded and closed the door behind her before he caught sight of her lovestruck smile.

Oh, she was in deep.

[kookitykook]

Seven Soulmarks: Hoseok (”Can you even breathe in those pants?”)

~genre: soulmate au, fluff, humor, sfw, hoseok being an absolute chaotic mess

~word count: 2.8k (this is short but one of my fav things i’ve written pls give it a chance)

~pairing: dancer!hoseok x yn

~warnings: record store owner!yoongi (and his soulmate) make an appearance if you’re sensitive to that kind of thing 

~summary: At the exact moment of your twentieth birthday, the first words your soulmate will ever say to you appear in black ink on the inside of your left wrist. Seven boys meeting their soulmates is just more proof that the universe knows what it’s doing. 

See how the other boys meet their soulmates (all interconnected) 

Jungkook -- Taehyung -- Jimin -- Namjoon -- Yoongi -- Jin

~~~~~~~~~

Hoseok lived and breathed dance. Movement was in his bones, his blood, every muscle and ligament and tendon in his body. It was his one true love.

And you can’t have dance without music. 

That was the initial reason why he had started setting up his street dance sessions in front of music stores. Surely if people loved music then they loved dance too and would be willing to drop some cash, right? And that had proved to be mostly true, but the only drawback was that the music store owners and managers tended to not like him all that much. 

It made no sense to Hoseok. If people were coming to check out the music and saw him along the way, it’s a win. If people were coming to see him and decided to check out the music too, also a win. 

Unfortunately, the four music store owners and managers that banned him from their sidewalks never did see his point of view. 

Yoongi did, though. 

It had been Hoseok’s junior year of college and he had invited his new buddy Jungkook, who was a freshman at the time, to come and street dance with him in front of a new music shop he had found, Agust D’s Records. 

When Yoongi had come out after seeing the crowd watching the two dancers, Hoseok had been prepared to take another loss. To his surprise though, Yoongi had just offered to let them borrow better speakers since Hoseok’s were, in Yoongi’s words, “complete trash.” 

And thus blossomed the oddest friendship. Hoseok, sunshine incarnate who could never stop dancing, and Yoongi, an old man trapped in a young man’s body who just wanted to sleep. Their biggest similarity though was their drive and work ethic. 

Sure, Hoseok was silly and Yoongi was serious, but both of them worked their asses off for their dreams and that was the foundation of the mutual respect driving their now their years-long friendship. 

And that very respect is what had Yoongi telling his friend:

“Get the fuck out of my store or I will beat your ass.”

“Hyung, it was an accident!”

“How many times have I told you not to take drinks into the aisles?”

“Not many—”

“Seventeen times. Get your ass out, you’re fired.”

“I am not fired.”

“You’re suspended.”

“That’s not even a thing.”

“Why did she have to find her soulmate?” Yoongi lamented dramatically, referring to his other best friend/employee, who had cut back to part time hours since getting together with her soulmate Namjoon, one of Hoseok’s best friends from college (yeah, small world, I know), who was also rich as hell so she didn’t need to work as much anymore. 

“Why did I hire you?” Yoongi continued. “Why, God?”

“Shut up,” Hoseok said, laughing at Yoongi’s dramatics. “I’ll clean up the mess.”

“What mess?” 

Both men snapped their head over to where Yoongi’s very pregnant soulmate was waddling out of the bathroom. Her eyes narrowed in Hoseok’s direction and he winced. 

“Did you spill a drink in the aisles?” she asked. 

Normally, Yoongi’s soulmate was the sweetest, most calm and caring person ever. But pregnancy a week and a half past her due date had … changed her, to say the least. 

“Hoseok!” she shouted at his guilty expression. “And it’s all over your pants!”

Hoseok looked down at himself and sighed. Sure enough, coffee was drying all over the right side of his pants leg — his very tight pants leg. 

“Yeah, Hobi,” Yoongi taunted, going over to gingerly help his soulmate over to a chair behind the counter. “How are you ever going to attract your soulmate with dirty, tight pants?”

“Watch it,” Hoseok said with a point.

Soulmates were … a touchy subject for Hoseok. 

When he was 20 his words had appeared like everyone else, no big deal, right?

Big deal. 

While all of Hoseok’s friends had soulmarks that were interesting and exciting and vague in the coolest ways, his was … embarrassing, to say the least. And he didn’t get embarrassed easily, so that was saying something. 

But for the last six years, the words “Can you even breathe in those pants?” were in bold, black letters right across his wrist. 

Can you even breathe in those pants?

Seriously?

It didn’t even make sense when they appeared! Hoseok rarely wore tight pants at that age, opting for joggers or shorts so his dancing didn’t feel so … restricted. 

But he sure started wearing them after that, even if his friends gave him hell for it on a daily basis. 

“Yeah Hoseok,” Yoongi’s soulmate teased, grimacing briefly as she finally sat down and rested her hands on her swollen abdomen. “That coffee stain is awful distracting.”

“Are you really going to tease me about my soulmark Miss I-Silently-Stalked-My-Soulmate-For-A-Year?”

In a normal situation, Yoongi’s soulmate would have taken the gentle ribbing with grace, probably blushing in embarrassment briefly before looking over at Yoongi and deciding she didn’t care about the teasing. 

But throw pregnancy hormones and lack of comfortable sleep in the mix? Not the same reaction. 

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry!” Hoseok said, rushing over to her and Yoongi as tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m an idiot, don’t listen to anything I say, I’m sorry!”

Yoongi sighed, letting his soulmate turn her head into his shoulder and cry against him. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll fire him.”

“Promise?” she choked out.

“Promise.”

“Wait, what?” Hoseok balked.

“You,” Yoongi said lowly, meeting Hoseok’s eyes over his soulmate’s shoulder. “Go upstairs, change into a different pair of pants, then come back down and prepare to do expense reports until your fingers bleed.”

Hoseok didn’t even bother responding as he took off to the stairs leading up to Yoongi and his soulmate’s apartment above the store. 

***

You were not a dancer. 

Well — correction: you were not a good dancer. You accepted this about yourself and were completely content with it, had been all your life. And this small little detail did not keep you from dancing anytime and anywhere you wanted to. When the music touched your soul, you were going to move. You couldn’t help it! And if anyone had a problem with it they could get over it! 

This is the attitude you tried to have all the time, and mostly succeeded in. 

But your soulmark had to go and make things difficult for you. 

“Nice moves.” 

 You just knew — you knew that the words were said sarcastically. No one in their right mind would look at your flailing about and say “nice moves” in a genuine fashion. 

So your soulmate was a little sarcastic brat then. Fine by you! He would meet his match whenever you heard him say the words. Oh yes, you had practiced many a comeback in preparation of the day you met your soulmate. You couldn’t wait to shock him and make him fall in love with your startling wit. 

So maybe you were a little bitter about your soulmark. But just a little, honestly. It’d been four years since the words had showed up and you had gotten used to them (and were well prepared to hear them of course). 

You still danced so … joke’s on them. 

“Now tell me again what kind of headphones she wants?” you asked your brother, holding your phone to your ear and trying to talk quietly so as not to disturb the other people in the store. 

You were in a music shop you had never been to before called Agust D’s Records, and the owner had briefly introduced himself earlier while holding a very pregnant crying woman. Other than that odd moment, the store was really cool. 

“The rose gold Beats,” your brother responded. You were shopping for a birthday present for his soulmate and because they lived on the other side of the country, you didn’t know her that well and had asked for gift advice. “But if they’re too expensive, it’s really fine.”

“No I can afford it!” you defended yourself. “I sold two paintings just yesterday thank you very much.” 

“Woah, really?” 

“Yeah, it’s actually going really well,” you said with pride. “I’ve got a few well-to-do clients that like my stuff. And the museum wants to promote me to full time next month since their other art curator’s assistant is retiring.”

“Y/N that’s awesome!”

You grinned. “Thanks. I’ve been saving up to fly out and see you guys, too. And I want to get to know my brother’s soulmate better, you know?”

“Hey, maybe when you can finally get out here you’ll have a soulmate of your own I can meet.”

“Ack, shutup,” you muttered. Your brother only laughed. “Anyways, I’m in a store so I should probably get off the phone. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“You got it. Bye, sis.”

“Bye, love you.”

After ending the call you pocketed your phone and wandered back over to the headphones. Sure enough, there were the rose gold Beats. You picked them up with a grin, then saw that the store had placed a blue pair out with a sign that said “Try Me!” 

Might as well, you thought to yourself. You pulled your phone back out and opened Spotify, plugging in the headphones and pressing play. The last song that had been playing was from your “dance jams” playlist and damn you forgot how good this song was. 

Soon enough, you were in your own little world, just you and the music. So much so that you didn’t notice the guy standing behind you. 

***

“Oh wow,” Yoongi said, doing his best to bite back laughter as Hoseok walked down the stars — well, more like waddled. “Babe, babe look up, this is going to make you feel so much better.”

“Nothing can … oh my gosh.” Yoongi’s soulmate switched from crying to laughing in the blink of an eye as she looked up to see Hoseok wearing a pair of Yoongi’s skinny jeans, which were practically high waters on him. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” Hoseok said as he made it back to the store floor, pulling at the crotch of his — no, Yoongi’s pants without shame. Gosh he could hardly breathe in these pants.

… Wait a minute.

“If you don’t meet your soulmate today, nothing makes sense in the world,” Yoongi said with a laugh. His soulmate was still cackling.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Hoseok stuck his tongue out and grabbed a box of records that needed to be shelved from the countertop. “I’ll get to work.”

“Please do,” Yoongi responded, he and his soulmate still cackling like children. If Hoseok weren’t struggling to walk he would have taken a moment to appreciate how cute they were. 

There were only a few customers in the store, and they all looked at him with amused expressions. Fortunately for Hoseok, he was the type to play up an embarrassing situation so he laughed right along with them. 

It was fine. Everything was fine. 

“Yoongi you skinny ass,” Hoseok muttered, dipping into the empty headphones aisle to pull at the pants once more. These jeans did not factor in his dancer thighs. 

Movement to his left suddenly caught Hoseok’s eye and he froze, hoping he hadn’t just severely embarrassed himself even more, but …

Nope. Nope, this time he was not the one to be laughed at in this situation. Instead, the girl dancing like an absolute idiot was the embarrassing factor. 

What was she doing? Hoseok didn’t know what song she was listening to but there’s no way she was dancing on beat because … well, because she wasn’t dancing to any beat. Her arms were flailing around and her hips were … gyrating? Not in the sexy way though, but in a … he didn’t know, but some odd kind of way. 

And even though she looked like a total moron she was also … smiling so big? He couldn’t help but grin even though his dancer brain wanted to grimace. She just looked so happy. Her eyes were closed and she was just listening to the music and dancing. Dancing badly, but … dancing all the same. 

“Nice moves!” he shouted loud enough to cut through the sound of the headphones. 

The girl jumped, opening her eyes and looking over at him, surprise and shock in her eyes … but no shame. Hoseok liked that. 

She blinked, scrunching her eyebrows in a way that said she hadn’t heard him at all. 

While reaching to press pause on her phone and take off the headphones, Hoseok repeated himself.

“I said—”

***

Shit, shit, shit.

You pressed pause on the music, taking the headphones off in a motion that made your hair go everywhere, turning to the cute boy that was clearly amused by you and was trying to say something. 

“—nice moves.”

Your heart dropped. Actually, your phone dropped, but the sentiment still remained. 

It was time. Your moment had come. IT WAS TIME. 

Finally, now was your chance — your one chance to say something snarky to your little asshole soulmate making fun of you. 

But nothing had prepared you for how cute he was. A heart shaped mouth, hair that looked so soft it should be illegal, glowing, dewy skin, eyes twinkling with damn starlight, and —

The tightest highwater pants you had ever seen. 

“You’re a,” he pursed his lips mid-sentence to stifle a chuckle, “a really great dancer. I like the arm flailing the best, very nice technique. Where did you train?”

Your mouth dropped. 

What a brat!

“Can you even breathe in those pants?” you snapped without hesitation.

All of your memorized comebacks and that was way better than anything you had prepared. You wanted to pat yourself on the back. Hell yeah.

“Ha!” 

“The world makes sense after all.”

You and the boy turned at the same time to look at the owner and his very pregnant soulmate (you guessed) laughing hysterically. 

“Can I just say that I know you’re his soulmate,” the pregnant woman said to you, “and I already very much love and adore you. Please put this brat in his place daily for me.”

“What—”

“I think I get all the credit for this match,” the owner said.

Your soulmate pinched his nose in exasperation. “Hyung…”

“What? They’re my pants.”

“Why are you wearing his pants?” you asked incredulously.

“Because he spilt coffee in the aisle.”

“But there’s a no drinks sign.”

“See, Hoseok?” You take mental note of your soulmate’s name as the owner speaks. “Your soulmate is clearly smarter than you, like I always predicted.”

“Please stop talking,” your soulmate muttered, ears turning bright red much to your amusement. 

“Sweetheart,” the pregnant woman said in between bouts of laughter. “We’re sorry, but this is very exciting for us. We’ll give you an item from the store for free, I—”

The woman froze suddenly, her eyes going wide as she…

“Oh and you yell at me for spilling coffee!” Hoseok shouted as her water broke all over the record store floor. 

“Shit, shit,” the owner said, grabbing his wife’s forearms to hold her upright. “We’ve got to get to the hospital. Can you drive?”

You blink as you realize the owner is talking to you.

“Who, wh — me?” 

“Yes, you! My car is almost out of gas and this idiot only has a skateboard, so can you drive?”

“I — y-yes. Yes, I can drive!”

“Well go get your car! Hoseok, go with her and meet us out front. Everybody! Shop’s closed, get out!”

“Come on,” Hoseok says as he grabs your hand and drags you toward the front door. 

“Wh — I — what is going on?”

“I’m Hoseok, you can call me Hobi, I’m your soulmate, and my best friends are having a baby and you’re driving us to the hospital. Where’d you park? Where’s your keys?”

“I — across the street.” The bell jingles and you barely know which way is up. “My keys are—”

In your nervousness and confusion, you drop your keys to the sidewalk. 

“Don’t worry I—”

The rip of Hoseok’s pants as he bends down to pick up your keys is the loudest, most hilarious noise you have ever heard. 

A beat passes before you promptly burst into hysterical laughter. Hoseok takes one look at you as he stands back up to his full height, a slight breeze on his ass, before joining you in hysterics. 

With a grin still plastered on your face, you throw your arms around his neck and plant a kiss on this stranger’s lips, both of you still smiling. 

“I’m never going to let you live this down, I hope you know that, soulmate.”

“Yeah, yeah, when you embarrass yourself during our first dance when we get married the tables will turn.”

“Deal,” you say as you kiss him again. 

“What are you idiots doing? My wife is having a baby, get in the car!”