#but anon if this ask was inspired by the fact that you haven't finished travelers bc you aren't sure about how it ends

[dearmrsawyer]

How was the ending of travelers? Fine, bad, or so terrible you never think of it?

oh in my opinion it was actually REALLY good!!! it was the kind of ending that works so well as a series finale, but also allows them to continue the story if they want. when i watched it i didn't know whether the show had ended on its own terms or had been cancelled, so i was waiting to find out whether the ending would leave me mad or not 😂 but after it finished i was like 'i still don't know if they intended to end it there or not because it works SO well either way' lol i do find it a cool and satisfying ending, i'm mostly sad that it was the end because i found out afterwards that they did have plans for the next season, and i so desperately wanted to see how that would have played out (also wanted to spend more time with the characters!! esp in the new environment that ending would've created!). but it was kind of a stroke of genius? luck? the way they wrote it that it serves as suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuch a cool ending.

its the sort of scifi show i often feel i'm missing, so i just wish it had been able to stay with me and do what it was doing SO well for longer

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Frozen

*screeches in delight* Ok so I just finished the TSS masterlist (also please add me to the taglist) and at least in the past, you did literal interpretations of sayings. My question is, does this apply to fight/flight/freeze or brain freeze, and if so, do you have the spoons to write a fic? - diamond-blade

So I just saw this post (do links work in asks? It’s by orbmanson7), and now I want a Logan angst fic where the other sides literally silenced him. Or just any Logan angst, I’m not picky! - anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: paralysis

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 2284

    Out of all of the ways he envisioned the argument ending, this wasn't one of them.

"Look, if we could all just get on the same page—"

"Same page? You're on a different chapter, Pocket Protector!" Roman throws his hands up. "Matter of fact, a different book! A different library!"

"There really is no need to be so dramatic."

"No—no need?" Roman splutters. "What do you think my job is?"

"It's not to be a constant nuisance!"

"I dunno," Virgil mutters, "could've fooled me."

"Oh, like you can talk!"

"Now, now, everyone—" Patton raises his hands in what is supposed to be a placating manner— "let's stop with all the name-calling and just settle down."

"Oh, I haven't even started name-calling."

"I think the point was to pre-empt any name-calling you may have done," Logan points out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

There really was no reason for this argument to spiral out of control so much. It was simply to decide whether Thomas would spend the day writing—as he had planned for the week and had already declined other weekend activities for, he had expressed multiple times that he wanted to write and in fact, missed it—or whether he would accept the invitation for coffee from someone he'd met a few days earlier.

Logan, of course, had maintained that they decline. They had plans, they had projects, ones that Roman himself had been advocating they work on.

Roman, however, being as fickle as he always is, had the prospect of romance figuratively waved under his nose and he'd been derailed faster than—well, a train derailing.

"Logan's got a point, Princey, you're the one who's been pushing for us to do the projects for like, a month." Virgil leans back against the stair rail. "You realize that this is likely the only time Logan's gonna be agreeing with you on…anything for the next year, right?"

"Logan, on average, how long does 'getting coffee' normally take?"

"Well, based on most estimates the actual act of procuring the coffee takes about five to ten minutes depending on the density of the other customers, extending to forty minutes if during peak rush hours—"

"You know what I meant."

"—but the act of 'getting coffee' in a romantic setting normally lasts at least an hour."

Roman gestures emphatically. "One hour! One hour! We can spare one hour from our busy day of writing to go and get coffee with someone."

"Interrupting your creative process has rarely shown such productivity. Additionally, it is unlikely that it will remain one hour when you account for travel time."

"Aren't you the one who's always advocating for healthy scheduling and taking breaks? I seem to recall a lengthy conversation with both you and Janus about pacing myself." Roman gestures at the door. "This is a way for me to take a break! For all of us to take a break!"

Virgil snorts. "Speak for yourself, Princey. Both you and I are gonna be on the clock."

"Plus—" Roman points at Patton— "the other day you and I were talking about how I need more inspiration! Because we decided that going on quests in the Imagination wasn't good enough, so I need new material! This is how I get new material!"

Patton falters and inwardly, Logan curses. If Roman can get Patton on his side…then the argument is as good as over.

"You also have a tendency to get distracted very easily by new things," he points out, "and it is likely that you will become so preoccupied with fantasies about this new potential suitor that you will lose all motivation or inspiration to work on these projects."

Virgil hums, pointing at him. "He's got a point."

"…he does, kiddo."

Roman makes an affronted noise, all but wilting. "Come on, this'll be good for Thomas!"

"Good for Thomas," Logan asks, "or good for you?"

"What's the difference?"

"Well," he continues, adjusting his glasses, "what's good for Thomas can also be working on these projects he's been letting sit and stagnate for almost a month now to help appease his Anxiety and maintain a consistent level of productivity."

He raises an eyebrow.

"And it allows more than one of us to take 'center stage,' if you will."

"I appreciate the theater reference, but come on, I'm asking you for an hour! Two, tops!"

"We've kinda already set this day aside for you, Roman," Patton says warily, "you—don't you think you're getting a little greedy?"

There are points, Logan has realized, where, in hindsight, he can label them as the moments where the nosedives begin. And while he will grant both Roman and himself the respect to admit they'd been somewhat antagonistic towards each other, Patton's remark had…well.

"Greedy?" Roman draws himself up. "Excuse me, what exactly am I being greedy about?"

"We have already decided this day shall be for writing. That means that you will be the one who is 'in charge,' so to speak, or at the very least your connection to Thomas will be prioritized." Logan gestures around at the others. "However, as Thomas's creative process revolves around us as well, as characters he has created and such, that means we shall also have a part to play, even if yours is disproportionate to ours."

"Okay—"

"However," Logan continues as Roman tries to interrupt him, "if you choose instead to go on this…coffee date—"

"I didn't say it was a date!" Roman holds up a proclamatory finger. "Let the record show I never said it was a date."

"That's kinda what you implied, though," Virgil muttered.

"—if you choose to go," Logan says, speaking over them, "then it will very much be a 'one-man show,' if you will, save for the occasional inputs you deign to allow the rest of us."

"Except me," Virgil adds, "you get no say in that matter."

"So, yes, Roman." Logan crosses his arms. "Trying to force an activity where you have more of a say could be considered greedy."

Roman splutters, looking back and forth as if expecting someone to deny it. When no one does, he puffs himself up and clears his throat. "I am trying to ensure Thomas gets adequate socialization and continues to meet new people! I-if anything, it's Logan who's being greedy for insisting we stick to his strict schedule!"

"Oh, god."

"Roman…"

Logan draws himself up too. "I have at least taken the time and care to make sure that everyone is content with the schedule, whereas you—"

"I"m not content with it! In case that is very much unclear—"

"—insist on blundering through things as you always do and expecting everyone else to cater to your needs—"

"—no, I am not happy with it. And you're the one who insists I have only 0.5% of any given day, were you just looking for an excuse to—"

"—without realizing that we have to work together. I understand that might be a difficult concept for you to grasp—"

"—shut me out? Oh, and here we go again, el principe es estupido, is that the only insult you have?"

"—but I assure you it is a worthwhile endeavor. Perhaps if you were capable of seeing beyond yourself—"

"I don't know how to put other people first? Why do you think I've let this project be pushed off so much, because none of you—"

"—then you might realize that the world does not, in fact, revolve around you and whatever you think is important—"

"—seem to think it's worth doing even though it's Thomas's source of income! You don't understand how hard it is to—"

"—and since you clearly cannot afford even the basic respect of listening to me and letting me speak uninterrupted, then clearly you are not capable of considering the fact that you are not—"

"Shut up!"

—worth having this argument with, is what Logan would say, or perhaps even don't tell me to shut up!

What he ends up saying is nothing.

Nothing at all.

Which is, of course, because he has been frozen.

His arms go rigid at his sides. His lungs refuse to inflate. His eyes begin to water from their inability to blink. His mouth dries up and he stands there, hangs there, freezes there as something horribly cold and deadly seeps into him.

I can't move. I can't move. I can't move.

An interesting thing about pain; pain requires functioning nerves. If you can't feel anything, then you can't feel pain. But if you can't feel pain, then you can't tell when something is wrong. And if you can't tell when something is wrong, you can't tell when it's getting worse.

Mouth open, one hand slightly raised, his weight imperfectly balanced on one leg because he'd been in the middle of shifting, Logan freezes in place. He looks at his hand and for a moment, he doesn't quite recognize that it's his hand because he can't feel it. He can't move it. He can only stare at this thing a few inches in front of him that looks like a hand that used to belong to him.

Then he remembers he can't scream.

"What the fuck did you do?"

"Logan? Logan, are you okay?"

"What the fuck did you do, Roman?"

"I don't know! I didn't—I don't know, I've never done this before!"

"Well, fucking undo it then!"

"I don't know how! I don't—don't shut up! Talk, Logan, say something! Move!"

"It's not working!"

"I can see that it's not working!"

"L, L, you gotta move, you gotta—come on, bud, you gotta."

"Un-shut up! Anti-shut up! Move again! Undo whatever I just did! I take it back!"

"That's not working either!"

"Fuck—I'm sorry, Logan! I didn't mean it, I just got angry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Roman, I swear to god, if you can't fix this—"

"Unfreeze!"

Logan gasps, sensation flooding back into his body so quickly it's almost painful. He collapses into a heap as blood rushes through him, pounding so heavily in his ears that it's almost deafening. His hands—his hands, he can move them now—scream with pain as he clenches and unclenches them, his muscles trying slowly to reacclimate to moving, to feeling, to being unfrozen.

"Easy, bud," comes Virgil's low voice, "in for five, okay? One…two…three…four…five. Good, good job. Hold now…"

He lets Virgil walk him through a breathing exercise until he can breathe normally. He looks up and nods when Virgil gives him a quiet you okay?

"Logan, kiddo? You okay, sweetheart?"

"Yes…yes, I think so."

"Go slow, okay," Virgil warns as he starts to stand up again, "you just gotta go slow."

Standing is…challenging, but he manages. The whole ordeal had lasted barely a minute and now that he's able to move again, the panic fades and he can start to function once more. He takes a few more deep breaths to steady himself before he looks around.

Patton is hovering, concern written plainly all over his face. Virgil is next to him, there if he needs to grab onto his shoulder or sink out. Roman is—

Roman is standing on the other side of the room, his hands held over his mouth in horror. There are tears on his face.

"I'm sorry, Logan," he whispers, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, I didn't even know I could do that, I—are you okay?"

"Yes," and surprisingly, he is, "I'm alright now. I would…appreciate if that didn't happen again."

"No, no, of course, I won't—I won't do it again. I promise."

"Thank you."

Roman nods, his hands finally moving away from his face. He swallows and draws himself up, although this time it's far more similar to a child trying to save face than an arrogant prince. "I, um…we can…I'll be ready to write on Saturday."

"That would be great, thank you."

"Do you…need or want anything else right now?"

He pauses, considering, before slowly reaching out for him. Roman balks, confusion and fear warring on his features before he slowly crosses the room to let Logan grab onto him.

"You're the warmest," Logan mumbles, lurching forward to hug him—only it ends up being more like leaning his entire weight on Roman while Roman holds him up— "I'm still cold."

"Oh, of—of course." Roman wraps his arms carefully around him and Logan hums. "Would—do you want to sit on the couch?"

"Mm."

"…was that a 'yes?'"

"Yes."

Roman helps him carefully over to the couch as Virgil and Patton pull out the coffee table to make room for everyone's limbs. Logan turns his face against Roman's shoulder and closes his eyes.

"I'm going to sleep here now."

"Okay." Roman adjusts his grip so he won't get a strain in his neck. "I really am sorry, Logan."

"I know." He blinks up at him. "We can't do Saturday, but maybe…we may be able to do Sunday?"

Roman smiles. "We can talk about it later. You should sleep now."

And so he does.

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[yournameoneverypage]

Serendipity

Word Count: ~3.8k Warnings: Mentions of drinking and smoking. Otherwise, straight up Christmas fluff. A/N: Hey Anon #2, I don’t know what you meant by the stories of Shawn singing “Creep”, but I liked your idea otherwise, so with a few alterations, this was what I came up with. And Anon #1, I wanted to try to work in a couple of your prompts but this didn't turn out the way I had originally planned. I still wanted to thank you though! (I might use your ideas for future stories, if that's all right. A few could easily work as non-Christmas blurbs!) I hope you all enjoy this holiday story. I'm sorry it posted after Christmas for many of you. I haven't had much inspiration to write lately, and I've been a bit sick this week, so I'm hoping it's still good enough. I always proofread, but please forgive any errors I may have missed! Merry Christmas, my dears...!!

~ * ~

“Ladybug?”

You hadn’t heard that nickname in several months and had only ever been called that by one person. You turned toward the voice and there he stood, all 6’3” of him, thicker than he had been the last time you had seen him this close before you. You knew he’d been training regularly to stay fit for the European and North American legs of the tour he finished two months earlier.

It made no matter if he was lean and lanky or a bit more muscular, Shawn Peter Raul Mendes was impossibly beautiful.

Your heart always drummed faster when you were in his presence. That had never changed. In fact, it was worse not having seen him face to face in so long.

“Hey Rockstar,” you grinned, your eyes meeting his olive ringed, amber hued brown.

“Oh my God!” he laughed, pulling you into a hug that caused warmth and latent yearning to burst and envelop every inch of you. His embrace lasted longer than you expected and you reveled in it, breathing him in. “What are you doing in LA?” he asked when he finally eased away.

“Working. Always working,” you snickered. “I’ve had assignments here for the past few weeks. What are you doing here?”

“Meetings.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Which couldn’t have waited till after the New Year?”

“I know, eh? But Andrew was adamant and didn’t want things overshadowing the holidays.”

“So, important stuff,” you indicated.

“Not as important as you might think,” he grumbled.

“I sense a little bitterness.”

“If it weren’t for the meetings-”

“Which you probably could have Zoomed,” you offered.

“Yes!” he reacted, with a frustrating chuckle, running a hand through his ever present, chocolate curls. “I shouldn’t have had to have left Toronto in the first place, and now I can’t even get back for Christmas. My flight was delayed, then delayed again, and finally cancelled.”

You understood his irritation. “My flight home to New York was cancelled as well. The storm is walloping the entire East Coast; my mom told me they’ve been getting at least an inch an hour since last night and the winds are vicious.”

“That’s what my sister was saying. Blizzard conditions. Travel not recommended. My whole family was supposed to be together this year. My parents have already rescheduled our Christmas Day celebration for Monday.”

“So then you may not miss anything after all," you tried reassuring him. "Hopefully you’ll be able to get on a flight before then. I think the storm is supposed to move on by morning.”

“I’ll confess, I’m a little less mad at Andrew now than I was twenty minutes ago. It’s so good to see you, Bug,” he murmured, eyes soft and smile tender.

///

There had always been a mutual attraction between you and Shawn, from the very first time you had met when he was nineteen, even though you had had a boyfriend at the time, and he had been infatuated with one of his best friends.

Your fascination with one another was strong enough that you flirted, shamelessly, whenever your paths crossed, even skirting the edge between teasing and cheating more than once. But neither of you were the type willing to cross that final line.

The closest you had ever come was when you found yourself working on the set of Shawn’s video for ‘Summer of Love’ in Mallorca in August of the year before. You spent all of your time together when you weren’t shooting, and it was even more carefree than what was portrayed on film.

It had been one of the best weeks of your life. He was easy to be around and to talk to, his bright smile rivaled the Spanish sun, and his laughter was quick to spark and wholly contagious. He was willing to try most anything and the adventures you embarked on off set were mostly auspicious, occasionally disastrous, but always spectacular.

The night before he was to leave, loose-lipped from drinking and mellow from smoking, Shawn had confided in you that he felt his two-year relationship with the best friend who had ultimately become so much more to him was reaching its end. He was having trouble accepting that the future he’d dreamt of with the girl he'd once felt was 'the one' was fading and he was feeling a little desperate about returning to the States.

You had wrapped your arms around him and hugged him close to try to comfort him. You told him that no matter what happened, it would be okay.

His sorrow was sharp after a week free of worries, and the cervezas he had chased your tequila shots with had his nose in the crook of your neck and his lips brushing against your pulse point just below the angle of your jaw. As desperately as you wanted to comfort him even more, so much more, you refused to be the catalyst by which his relationship indeed ended.

You had taken it upon yourself to remove the temptation, for both your sake, in the inexplicable chance of a lapse in judgment or morals. You had reluctantly eased away and cupped his face. You felt you knew Shawn well enough to trust he wouldn’t have taken it any further, but the way his eyes had shifted from yours to your lips, and again, had you smiling gently but shaking your head almost imperceptibly. You had grazed his lips with the pad of your thumb and kissed his cheek instead.

Three months later, he and his ex had broken up.

You had considered reaching out, but decided it was better to give him time to sort himself out, for his relationship had been serious and long lasting, and very public. To be honest, you had hoped he would contact you first. And he had, after the New Year, before tour began, but it was too late. You were freshly involved with someone; someone you were beginning to have honest feelings for.

It was disappointing, for you had always wondered what Shawn would’ve been like as a boyfriend, but the timing was off. The godforsaken timing had always been off for you two.

Shawn had had a little fling with someone the summer just passed. Not many people had been truly aware of it, but being ‘in the business’, and within your circle, you had heard about it.

It had bothered you more than you were willing to admit. You didn’t like thinking of him with someone new, even though everyone knew it wasn’t meant to last, even Shawn and the girl themselves. You knew it was ridiculous to think that way, and you were still in your relationship anyway, so what did it matter?

And then you and your ex separated, which had been four months ago, when you realized you weren’t as in love with him as you had tried to convince yourself you were. The fact that your breakup coincided with learning about Shawn’s dalliance was something you couldn’t escape.

After four years of an ebb and flow friendship, and maybe a little pining over what could’ve been, at least on your end, here you and Shawn were, finally single at the same moment, in the same place, during the most magical time of the year.

///

You decided to have lunch together and catch up.

Even after months of little contact, conversation and laughter flowed as if no time at all had passed since Mallorca. You didn’t even bat an eye when he stole bites of food from your plate; that’s how natural things had always been between you.

Lunch bled into a walk around LA, neither of you willing to end your reconnection too early. The festive decorations in every storefront window, strings of lights draped around every tree, the holly and garland twined around light posts, the displays in the park and throughout the outdoor market, it all screamed Christmas, but you and Shawn had both grown up in a much colder climate.

You found your arm wrapping around his bicep while you strolled throughout the city but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“Christmas doesn’t feel the same without a blanket of snow,” you sighed.

“There may not be snow, but there is ice skating.” He pointed to the outdoor rink in the near distance. “What do you say?”

You weren’t a strong skater, and it had been a while since you’d been on ice. “If you promise you won’t let me fall.”

“I will try my very best,” he declared. “Is that enough?”

“If I fall,” you warned, "I’m taking you down with me.”

“Acknowledged,” he laughed.

While you waited for your session time, you sat side by side on a bench, almost impossibly close, to help to keep you warm, Shawn rationalized, but there was a spirited glint in his eyes when he said so. Your hands were wrapped around cups of hot cocoa while you wondered together what your families were doing in your absence.

It was chilly so close to the ice, and you were thankful for Shawn’s body heat and the blanket he had rented along with your skates.

///

You started off slowly, gliding around the large evergreen in the center of the ice, Shawn close by your side, but giving you enough space so as not to throw off your balance. You were only slightly wobbly and as your confidence grew, so did your speed.

Shawn was skating circles around you, literally, and his antics had you giggling. The harder you laughed, the more unsteady you became, until you felt it coming before it actually did. Your legs began to slide out from beneath you and you were going to fall on your butt, embarrassingly so, but at the very last moment, Shawn was there, hands gripping you from behind, beneath your arms, to catch you and right you.

“I got you,” he whispered, lips ever so close to your ear.

Suddenly he was in front of you, instead of behind. His quick movement had you swaying again, and your hands shot out to grip his forearms. His hands were immediately on your hips to keep you steady. He was chuckling at the surprise on your face, while bringing your bodies closer. “You good?” he smirked.

“I’m good,” you confirmed, cheeks darkening from the pink of the chill and exertion to the red of having him so close to you.

Time stood still and simultaneously stretched before he finally withdrew his hands from your hips. You swore you could still feel the heat of his handprints. You then removed your hands from his arms, which was a mistake, as you weren’t as steady as thought you were.

In the following instant you screeched, “Not good!”, as you actually went down this time, pulling Shawn with you.

You both rumbled with laughter while flat on your backs, side by side on the ice, looking up at the pinks and purples of the sunsetting sky.

///

Walking away from the skating rink, Shawn casually reached for your hand and you responded by interlacing your fingers with his. There was a small shift in the energy between you then.

“I still have my rental,” you told him. “We shouldn’t have to spend Christmas alone. Why don’t you ditch your hotel and come over? We can drink eggnog and watch holiday movies. There’s a second bedroom you’re welcome to use.” It all came rushing out rather quickly, and you held your breath waiting for Shawn’s reply.

“I would love that,” he whispered, giving your hand an extra little squeeze. He smiled serenely when your eyes rose to his. “I should return to my hotel to grab my things then.”

“Why don’t you do that while I run one last errand. I can text you the address of the condo. Do you still have my number? It hasn’t changed.”

You hadn’t meant for your words to be anything more than an innocent question and statement, but it had triggered suppressed guilt in him.

“I thought about calling so many times,” he confessed, voice soft and apologetic.

“I would have liked hearing from you more often,” you said gently.

“You were...seeing someone. I was touring. When I wasn’t otherwise preoccupied, I was lonely. I didn’t want to come to rely on you to get me through the bad days.”

“You could have.” You squeezed his hand. “Friends are there for you, especially when you need them. I would have been there for you.”

“I know that. I do. I just didn’t want to mess anything up for you.”

His admission was perplexing. “What do you think you would have messed up?”

“That is a conversation best left for another time,” he hedged.

You didn’t want to press him for more. It would come to light soon enough; he wasn’t one to hold onto secrets. He was too honest not to share his thoughts with the one who his thoughts were about.

///

Shawn arrived at your place about an hour and a half later, not only bearing his luggage and guitar case, but he also had in hand a large bag from one of the best Chinese restaurants in LA.

“You are the best!” you squealed, taking the Chinese from him and placing it on the island in the kitchen.

He glanced around the condo as you showed him to the second bedroom where he could put his things. The rental itself was opulent, but there were fewer decorations than he had expected. Enough, but nowhere near enough. The biggest absence was a Christmas tree, which he immediately noticed.

“Where’s the tree??”

“There is no tree.”

He gasped and gaped, “We have to have a Christmas tree!”

“I wasn’t planning to still be in LA for Christmas,” you shrugged.

“We have to have a Christmas tree,” he insisted again.

“Where are we going to find a tree at seven o’clock on Christmas Eve?” you chuckled.

“There has to be a tree lot somewhere nearby.” He pulled out his phone to search ‘tree lots near me’. “Two miles north, but they’re only open for one more hour.”

“Well, let’s go then.”

His eyes lit up as if it was already Christmas morning. “Yeah?”

“They’re probably all sad-looking by now though.”

“Have a little holiday faith, Bug. We’ll find something.”

///

Stumbling back across the threshold of your condo, laughing, you and Shawn wrestled the tree inside.

Once you got it upright in the stand, you turned on the sound system and found a holiday playlist; you couldn’t trim the tree without Christmas music playing in the background. It was then that you both realized you had nothing to trim the tree with. A fresh round of laughter began; you couldn’t believe you had forgotten such a crucial detail.

It took until you were breathless and your sides ached to stop laughing. And then Shawn’s stomach growled and the giggles began again.

“Food first,” you snickered, “and then we’ll figure it out.”

You finally dug into the Chinese you had abandoned to make it to the tree lot before they had closed. Through happy murmurs, you and Shawn agreed that Chinese always seemed to taste better when it was cold.

///

After contacting the 24-hour management office, even on Christmas Eve, and explaining the predicament you were in, the wonderful, savior of an onsite building manager had shortly been knocking on your door with a cumbersome box of lights and ornaments tottering in her arms.

Shawn had quickly taken it from her with heartfelt appreciation.

She had apologized that it was a mess and she wasn’t sure how much you would be able to use, or if any of the lights actually worked, but it was more than you had had an hour earlier and you were eternally grateful.

Your once sad little tree, now trimmed with stings of white lights, which had seemed to take forever to untangle, and colorful, mismatched ornaments, was now utterly charming, and you stood back to admire it.

You felt Shawn’s arms wrap around you from behind and you reflexively relaxed against him. “It’s perfect,” he exhaled.

“It really is,” you breathed.

You were creating new holiday traditions together, which you recognized might be too bold a thought, but you couldn’t help yourself from wondering if he would be around to do it all again with next year. Maybe in New York or Toronto instead of Los Angeles.

///

Just past midnight, relaxed from the rum-laced eggnog, curled up together on the overstuffed sectional, blanket thrown over your legs, Shawn’s gaze fell on the glowing Christmas tree and he sighed. “I miss being with my family, but if I can’t be with them, I’m happy to be here with you.”

“Today was the best gift I could’ve asked for. Thank you for spending this unconventional Christmas with me.” You rested your head on his shoulder and he dropped a kiss to its crown.

///

You were up before Shawn Christmas morning. His nose carried him to the kitchen where he found you transferring hot waffles from the waffle maker to plates and setting them on the kitchen island beside a container of whipped cream, a small bowl of red and green sprinkles, and shakers of colored sugars.

You were pulling a pan of bacon from the oven when you heard Shawn sing, “Merry Christmas, Ladybug!” You spun toward him with a ‘merry Christmas’ on your own lips, but your voice escaped you and you almost lost your grip on the baking sheet when you saw him.

He was crossing the kitchen toward the coffee maker in pajama pants, barefoot and bare chested.

You knew you were suddenly flushed, there was an insanely attractive, beautifully built, half-naked man in your kitchen after all, but you tried to (ineffectively) neutralize your expression.

Glancing over his shoulder he asked, a lilt of playfulness in his tone, “Everything okay?” He poured coffee into two mugs and fixed yours just the way you liked it.

You quietly cleared your throat. “Fine.”

“What are you wearing?” he chuckled when he finally noticed the snowmen head bopper on your head.

“What are you not wearing?” you snickered. “You could have put on a shirt, you know.”

“What?” he smirked, handing you your mug. “I run hot when I sleep. At least I put on pants.”

“Thank you for that visual,” you mumbled, trying to mask your desire with sarcasm, and took a cautious sip of your coffee.

“You’re welcome,” he grinned.

“You remembered how I like my coffee,” you whispered, wonderstruck.

“I remember a lot of things about you, Bug,” he murmured, cheeks pinking, as he slid onto one of the kitchen stools.

Next to his plate of waffles was another Christmas headband, one with candy canes sticking up like antlers. “Really?” he laughed.

All you had to do was look at him a certain way and he was putting it on. “Happy?”

“Very,” you smirked.

With the way he smiled at you then, you had to forcibly stop yourself from leaning across the island and kissing him.

///

You had just finished eating breakfast when almost simultaneously you and Shawn received messages on your phones from Delta. Airports across the East Coast had opened and departures were going out again.

“It’s a Christmas miracle!” you giggled.

Shawn was just as giddy to get home. He was scheduled for a flight to Toronto within an hour of your flight to New York. You had three hours before you needed to check in at LAX.

All at once you were aflutter with activity. Shawn asked what needed to be done before you left the rental and together you put everything you were responsible for in order. You knew the property owner would be over to inspect the condo within a few days, and you left a note about the tree and a check to cover the cost of its removal, and then some.

You were both still largely packed, so it didn’t take long to get dressed and to finish stuffing your suitcases with your last-minute items.

With one last fond look at your tree, you closed the condo door behind you.

///

Before you knew it, you were checking your baggage and receiving your boarding passes. After buying snacks for your flights, you and Shawn sat together between your gates to wait for boarding for Toronto. Your flight would follow his by roughly forty minutes.

It seemed like there was something more on Shawn’s mind as he stroked the fingers of your hand that had found itself under his.

“What happens next?” you wondered, hoping it would shake his thoughts from his mind to his mouth.

“Call me when you get home?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“I meant it when I said it was good to see you again,” he murmured. “And spending the past twenty-four hours together has made me realize just how much I’ve missed you. And maybe...” His voice trailed off.

“Maybe...?” you nudged.

He sighed wistfully. “Just...an open-ended maybe.”

It sounded hopeful, as if you might be on the verge of something more, and your heart fluttered. You wanted him to know that you wanted more if he wanted more but how did you say so without saying so?

“The next time you think about calling, anytime you think about calling,” you said, “promise me you will.”

“I promise.”

“I want you back in my life, bub. Not just a few texts or a brief conversation every other month. And I want to have lunch every time you find yourself in New York.”

“Every time? Ugh,” he teased.

You gave him a playful shove.

“I’m in New York a lot,” he threatened playfully.

“Every time,” you repeated.

He smiled tenderly and kissed your cheek. “I promise.”

It was then when the announcement sounded for pre-boarding for Toronto and you sighed heavily. You were going to miss him. You were reassured you would see each other again soon, but in the meantime you were going to miss him.

You walked him to his gate and hugged your goodbyes. You waved as he approached the entrance of the jetway. The moment he was out of sight you started walking in the direction of your own gate.

Suddenly you heard an earnest shout of, “Ladybug!”

You paused and turned back to see Shawn running toward you.

When he stood before you, you asked, bemused, “Did you forget something?”

“Yes,” he rasped.

“What?”

“This.” His hand reached up between you and, cupping your face, his thumb on the pulse point of your neck and his fingers slipping to your nape, he brought your lips to his.

Instinctively your arms slid around his waist. His kiss was soft and unhurried and more perfect than you ever could have imagined. You lit up from the inside out as he took your upper lip between his. And when you responded by sucking gently on his lower lip, his hum turned into a purr and he dropped his carry on to grip your hip and draw your bodies closer.

When you finally separated, you were slightly breathless, mouths painted with mirrored dreamlike smiles.

Shawn brushed the tip of his nose against yours and asked, “What are you doing for New Year’s?”

~ * ~

@mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida @weedangel-x @monikamendes @mendesficsxbombay @hiding-behind-a-flower And even though, for some unbeknownst reason, I can't effectively tag them:@silverswallow @chocochipcookie305

[mywonuderful]

Cafuné

anon request: Hi! Can I request for a scenario where hyunjae texted his s/o whining about how he's frustrated from practice because he's not satisfied so you decided to visit him to cheer him up? Thank you! pairing: idol!hyunjae x non idol!reader genre: fluff warnings: n/a a/n: this was inspired by the latest Kingdom: Legendary War episode and for those who haven't watched it yet, I won't mention any spoilers but just be sure to show your support to The Boyz as the final round is coming up!

main masterlist

oh please him and this pouty lips stoppp

"Why can't I get this move down?!" Hyunjae lets out a frustrated sigh, going back to the starting position before one of his members pressed play as he danced to the music. "What's wrong? You were dancing really well!" Changmin patted his back from behind but he didn't seem to take in his compliment as he clicked his tongue, turning to face the main dancer. "Could you go through this section again? I'm always a split second off from you guys." Changmin nodded as a few others joined where he went over the moves, giving them a thumbs up but Hyunjae still felt like something was off about his performance. As the rest of the members lingered around in the practice room, fooling around or cooling off, Hyunjae was dancing with his brows furrowed, sweat dripping down is forehead as he danced in repetition to only grumble every time.

"Hyung, forcing yourself to dance isn't going to do you any good. How about we just call it a day and head back home?" Eric suggested as the boys joined in agreement. "You guys can head out first. I'm going to practice a bit more before heading back." The boys left one by one before he was left alone in the dance room. He walked over to his bag to pick up his phone, checking to see how you were doing.

He lets out disappointed sigh, missing your presence but it couldn't be helped since neither of your schedules match up recently as the only communication between the two of you would either be messaging or video calls. Especially when his team being on Kingdom: Legendary War made it even harder for the two of you to even just have a phone call. Frowning, he sets his phone down and went back to dancing. No matter how many times he went over the moves, he was just never happy with the performance he gave out, getting more frustrated at himself.

-

Your boss actually let everyone off work early today after a week of an hectic yet successful promotional event. You were overjoyed by the fact that you could finally leave work early on such a beautiful day as you bid all your co-workers goodbye before heading to the elevators when you bumped into one of your friends. "Signing off early today?" She asked as you turned on your phone, seeing the text from your boyfriend. "Yeah, she wanted us to enjoy the start of the summer weather. Plus, after such a busy week with pulling all-nighters and promotions, I think it's very much needed for us to have some recovery time." The two of you laughed "Right, congratulations of the successful event! Employees from my department and I heard how you guys were working nonstop for it. I can say that the results were definitely worth it." You thank her as the elevator doors opened, as it was almost filled. You gestured her to take the empty spot for you pressed the button again, waiting for the next available lift. Your lips dropped as you read his messages, feeling helpless in your shoes since you couldn't do anything when an idea popped up in your head.

You sheepishly smiles as you entered the elevator, walking out your company building before heading over to a couple of restaurants, walking out for bags full of takeout.

-

After a long, repetitive and disappointing practice, Hyunjae headed back to the dorms, feeling restless and miserable about his lack progress as the performance day approaching closer and closer. He entered as his members asked for his suggestion on what he wanted to eat for dinner. "What do you want to eat tonight? We're going to order takeout." Younghoon waved his phone and asked his fellow member. The members were gathered in the living room, observing his actions before looking at each other, sensing that he wasn't at a happy mood. "Hyunjae, do you want us to order from your favorite chicken place?" Jacob kindly asked but he didn't bother answering as he went straight to his room, slamming the door behind before throwing his bag to go shower.

"He doesn't look like he's in a good mood." You spoke through the phone call after hearing a faint thud from his door. You originally called Younghoon to tell him your plan when he accidently placed you on speaker as all the members heard. The members were delighted by what you had in mind and decided on surprising Hyunjae as Younghoon would pretend to call a restaurant to see if he wanted anything in particular but actually had you on speaker as you remained silent when the plan didn't exactly go to plan. "Yeah he has been quite stressed over the choreography and upcoming performance. I can't blame him though, it is one of the hardest ones yet so he probably wants to do his best." Changmin added as your heart ached from not being able to be by his side. You told the boys that you're on the way to the dorm and keep it a secret from you boyfriend. Stopping by a few more stores, the bags around your hands starts to get heavy as your knuckles becomes white from holding so many boxes. You called a member down as you walked into their apartment, being greeted by their smile that you haven't seen in a while.

"It's been like years since I last saw you!" Eric runs to you as you struggled to walk straight from the amount of bags. "It truly feels like years." You laughed at his comment as helped you carry some of the bags. He peeked through, a huge smile forming on his face when he saw all the food that you bought. "It's a good thing you stopped by today. Hyunjae hyung has been having a rough time with practice." Eric spoke as the two of you stepped into the elevator. "I don't think I've ever seen him this frustrated before. He was practicing alone the other day and I heard him yell at himself when I was passing by..." Your heart dropped from hearing Eric's words. You bitterly smiled at him as he reassured that your boyfriend is trying his best to take care of his health and all but your heart couldn't settle. You arrived at the door when Eric told you to remain outside as he would get Hyunjae to open the door. You stood outside, nervous yet anxious from seeing your boyfriend for the first time in a while. You thought about what you would say when you saw him and how he would react.

"Takeout is delivered!" Eric yelled as he entered, rapid footsteps were heard as the members ran towards him whispering "Where's Y/N?" as he whispered back his plan. "HYUNJAE COME OUT AND EAT." Younghoon yelled from the living room as you giggled, hearing his voice from outside. "I'm not hungry." You pressed your ear to the door as you hear your lover's mumbled voice "We ordered chicken and it should be here any moment now!" Eric yelled as that was your cue to ring the doorbell, feeling your whole body shake from nervousness. "Hyunjae! Opened the door, your fried chicken is here." Sangyeon called as there was a short period of silence before you hear his door click opened. "Can't you guys open it? Why do I have to open it?" He snapped as the boys looked at him with a shocked expression before Sangyeon cleared his throat, trying to go with the plan. "U-Um, our fingers are all dirty? Just opened the door, we ordered from your favorite restaurant." His eyes lit up for a second before he groaned stomping his way to the doorway as your heart started racing, seconds away from seeing your boyfriend.

You eyes widen as the door slowly opened but stopped right enough for him to stick only his hand. He opened his hand, waiting for you to hand him the chicken when you reaching your hands into his, intertwining fingers before he retrieved his hand swinging the door opened. "What the f-" "Special delivery for the one and only Lee Jaehyun." You smiled, raising the bags in front of your face to hide your flushed cheeks. He took the bags from your hands before placing them down, pulling you into his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, almost taking your breathe away. "Oh my gosh, I missed you so much." He whispered as you blinked back the tears that were blurring your vision. You looked into the dorm, seeing the faces of the members as some where happily munching and others had their phones out, capturing the sweet moment.

-

"I thought you said you weren't hungry." you mocked Hyunjae's voice from earlier as he picked up another chicken leg, shyly smiling as he bit into it. You sat with the boys as they all thank you for the food that you bought. "You guys must've been too busy to even eat your meals so I decided to stop by with some food for you guys." smiling, you looked around as all the boys where eating their hearts away. You felt a little sad that they were so busy with the upcoming competition but you knew that it's what they loved to do. You glanced over at your boyfriend, as he rested his head on your shoulder, letting out a content sigh. "Wow, I think this is the happiest I've felt in a while. I have you guys, chicken and Y/N all in one room.... This must be pure happiness." he spoke out loud before everyone broke into laughter. After everyone was finished eating, they all went on to do their own activities as you and Hyunjae headed into his room. Once he opened the door, the scent of his cologne travelled to your nose as you let out a delighted sigh

"Wow, it's been a minute since I've been here." You looked around his room. Even though nothing has changed since your last visit, you felt yourself reminiscing that moment. You looked over at your boyfriend who as lying on his bed as he patted the spot next to him, telling you to join him. "It's been a minute since I saw my gorgeous girlfriend." He stated as your sat beside him, legs crossed as he plotted himself up with the support of his elbows. You surveyed your boyfriend as you noticed his eyebags were getting dark, his appearance looking tired, overworked and stressed as you felt your eyes watering. "Why are you crying my love?" His eyes widen as tears fell from you eyes. He sat up, hands on either side of your face as he brushed the tears with his thumbs, giving you a worried look. You shook your head before pulling him into a hug, him stroking your back. "I'm such a horrible girlfriend." You felt his movements come to a halt at your words as he broke the hug, you avoiding his eyes. "Why would you ever tell yourself that?" His voice full of love and concern only made you want to breakdown in front of him even more but you held back, wiping away the tears. "I couldn't by your side when times where difficult for you. I couldn't comfort you when you needed someone the most." You explained as he slightly frowned, hurt by your words.

"That's not true at all." He brushed the hairs at of your face as you looked up at him, eyes red and puffy. "You're the energy when I'm low and my light in my darkness. You may not know it but just the thought of you gave me the motivation, the encouragement and inspiration to strive and work harder" He smiled as you couldn't help but to do the same. "I know with both of our schedules it's hard to make time for each other but that doesn't stop me from thinking about you, missing you yet supporting you from afar because I know you do the same." He went on as you suddenly laughed, catching him off guard. "I came here today to comfort you... Why does it feel like the opposite." He laughed before he laid down on your crossed legs, hands playing with yours. "Didn't you tell me your boss wouldn't let you guys off work?" He asked as you caressed his face. "She let us off early today as a little celebration for the successful promotion and to enjoy the start of the summer weather." He narrowed his eyes at you, realizing that you were lying at him through text. "Congratulations on the event, it must've been stressful for you and your team to handle everything. I'm so proud of you." You cheeks tinted at his sudden praise as he hand touched your face, feeling the warmth of your blush. "I decided to surprise you since you were having a hard time." He hummed, closing his eyes.

"I would be lying if I said I wasn't having a hard time. All the members are doing so well during practice but I can't seem to follow up to them. It's like something was off or missing of me whenever I practice with them. I just want to do the best in my part so it'll be perfect for the team, you know?" He let out his thoughts as you nodded attentively. "Were you able to find what was missing?" You asked as he opened his eyes meeting yours as the direct contact made your heart skip a beat. "Hmm... I'm not sure but I guess it has been getting better compared to a few days ago. But today, it was just so frustrating. I was screaming and yelling at myself because I couldn't find out what was wrong." He pouted as you let out an "aw," sympathizing with him. "I'm so sorry, babe. If there's ever anything I can do for you, you know I'll always be there for you no matter what time of day it is right?" You ruffled his hair as he grinned, his eyes hinting that he had something up his sleeves. "I think I'm losing hair." He suddenly confessed as your jaw dropped, hands going through his hair as he laid on your legs, examining. "I think I pulled out a lot of hair from today's irritating practice." He whined as he rubbed his head, you cooing as you ran your fingers through his hair. "Could you massage my head for me?" he shyly asked, you giggling at his request "Anything for my mirae"

He let out a hum as you continued, seeing how relaxed he was. The faint music playing from his laptop along with his steady breath made you feel at home with your boyfriend who you could finally embrace. You fingers ran through the hair of his, as a smile would form on his face time to time, making your lips curve up into a grin.

"I think I finally found what I was missing." He broke the silence, eyes glancing up to yours as you stared into his big, bright orbits. "That's great. What was it?" You hummed in response, fingers still slowly working through his hair. "You."

cafuné (n): running your fingers through the hair of someone you love