#but honestly I’m sure Logan secretly liked it

[soodoonimin]

WADE YOU ABSOLUTE FREAK! 😭😂

[julietsf1]

Irritating, But Irresistible – Franco Colapinto X Reader

Summary: Alex Albon’s sister is not happy with Logan’s new replacement who seems to be very sure of himself.

Words: 8k

Warnings: cursing, smut after ***

A/N: this is my first time writing anything, just wanted to do something w franco since there is not much out there yet :) English isn't my first language so I hope it reads okay! smut is just the last part so you can read without and it will still be a complete story *muah*

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It was press conference day at Monza, one of the busiest times during a Formula 1 weekend. I walked through the paddock, juggling my internship deadlines on my phone. Even with my hectic schedule, nothing beat being around the buzz of the F1 world, where I could support my brother Alex and enjoy the company of his friends. Today, however, my thoughts were consumed by Logan’s sudden exit and his replacement.

Franco Colapinto.

I had yet to meet him, but from what Alex had shared, I already had my preconceptions: talented, confident, but most likely arrogant—a rookie straight from Formula 2 who had taken Logan’s seat.

I had been devastated by the news. Of course, Logan hadn’t been performing as well as he did in F2, but he and I had formed a special bond over the course of the past seasons. After every crash, when Logan would be back in the team garage to sit out the race, I had been there to talk with him, and we developed a deep and valuable friendship. I couldn’t help but feel frustrated by the team not sticking with him until Newey would join next season and provide a better car.

As I approached Alex and George Russell, they were already deep in conversation, Alex’s usual easygoing grin on his face as George prattled on with his distinctly old-fashioned vocabulary.

“And I dare say, Alex, it’s an absolute travesty that the press still insists on asking the same infernal questions,” George was saying, sipping from his water bottle. “There’s only so many times one can answer, ‘What’s your strategy for qualifying?’ without going mad.”

Alex chuckled, shaking his head. “Come on, George, don’t act like you don’t secretly love the attention.”

George sniffed, clearly unconvinced. “Attention, yes, but repetitive inquiries? It’s rather pedestrian. Honestly, one would expect a touch more intellectual curiosity.”

I grinned, stepping into the conversation. “You should start answering in riddles, George. Give them something to think about.”

George’s eyes lit up, considering the idea seriously. “You know, that’s not half bad. I could begin each answer with a Shakespearean quote. ‘To pit or not to pit, that is the question.’”

Alex burst into laughter, shaking his head. “Please do. It’ll be the highlight of the weekend.”

Before I could join in with my own jab, a smooth voice with a slight spanish accent interrupted our banter. “You must be Alex’s sister.”

I turned, and my breath caught for a second. Standing before me was Franco Colapinto, and he was—well, to be honest, he was a lot more attractive than I had expected. His dark hair was fluffy and slightly tousled as if he had just run a hand through it, giving him a charmingly casual look. His eyes—bright, shining with a mix of mischief and curiosity—immediately met mine, and there was something about the way they sparkled that unsettled me.

Franco stood with a relaxed confidence, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he waited for my response.

“And you must be Logan’s replacement,” I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended, trying to ignore the little flip in my stomach.

Franco raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that response, but his grin only grew wider, a playful glint in his bright eyes. “Franco Colapinto,” he introduced himself, extending his hand toward me.

I glanced at his hand but didn’t take it, crossing my arms instead. “Y/N.”

Franco didn’t miss a beat. He chuckled softly, undeterred by my cold reception. “Guess I’m not winning you over just yet.”

“You could say that,” I muttered under my breath, unable to stop myself from taking in his appearance again—his fluffy hair, the way the sunlight seemed to make his dark eyes even more intense.

“Give it time,” Franco said lightly, his tone soft but still laced with confidence. He shifted his gaze to Alex, giving a friendly nod. “See you up there, mate.”

As Franco walked away to the press room, I couldn’t help but stare after him, irritated by the way my heart skipped a beat. “He’s got some nerve,” I muttered.

Alex, always the peacemaker, sighed beside me. “Don’t be too hard on him, Y/N. He’s just trying to find his place.”

“Yeah, well, Logan had his place, and it was taken from him,��� I shot back, folding my arms tighter across my chest.

George, ever the diplomat, chimed in with his usual formal tone. “Alas, it is the nature of this sport, Miss Albon. Drivers come and go as swiftly as the wind changes its course. It’s unfortunate, but inevitable.”

I sighed, knowing George was right but still unable to shake my irritation. I cast one last look at Franco, who was now chatting with some team members, his bright eyes still sparkling, that teasing grin still lingering on his lips.

The atmosphere that evening was electric. After a long day of press conferences and media obligations, the some of thedrivers, teams, and close friends gathered for a small party in the paddock’s private area. Music thumped through the speakers, and the energy was light despite the high-pressure weekend ahead.

I found myself by the bar, sipping a drink, trying to focus on my conversation with Lando and Oscar.

“You seriously didn’t even know how to do a basic rumba?” Lando was saying, laughing so hard he nearly spilled his drink. “Come on, Oscar. I thought Aussies were supposed to know how to dance.”

Oscar smirked, unbothered. “I’m a racing driver, not a dancer. I don’t need rhythm on the track, mate.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Rumba, Lando? That’s what you’re testing him on?”

Lando grinned, tossing his head back dramatically. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You know it’s important. It’s all about balance! Quick on your feet, suave with the moves—it’s practically the same thing as cornering at high speed.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure it’s not the same thing.”

“Well,” Lando shrugged, “when the media isn’t on your back, you’ve got to perfect something other than driving. For me, it’s dance moves. For George—” Lando leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “it’s his ancient vocabulary. I heard him use the word ‘beseech’ in an interview once. I thought we’d time-traveled.”

I burst out laughing, picturing George in full seriousness. “Oh my God, that’s so him.”

Lando wasn’t finished, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “That’s not even the best part. He used it to answer a question about tire degradation. I swear!”

Oscar finally cracked a smile, shaking his head. “George could give my grandma a run for her money.”

I was about to add another quip when I caught sight of Franco across the room, his familiar silhouette standing out as he laughed with Max and Daniel. I quickly looked back at my drink, but Lando, ever observant, wasn’t going to let it slide.

“You keep staring at him,” Lando teased, nudging me with a smirk.

“What?” I blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not staring.”

Oscar, who had been quietly sipping his drink, glanced at me. “You kind of are.”

I frowned, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “I’m not. I just… don’t like him, that’s all.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Lando said, wiggling his eyebrows. “You’re not usually this flustered. It's kind of cute.”

“Shut up, Lando,” I shot back, though my voice lacked the sharpness I intended.

Oscar chuckled softly, glancing toward Franco. “You talk about him more than I’ve heard anyone talk about him since he joined.”

I rolled my eyes, clearly frustrated. “He’s arrogant, alright? Thinks he can just come in and—”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. You don’t like him,” Lando interrupted with a grin, clearly not buying it. “But let’s be real—he’s not exactly lacking in the looks department, is he?”

I felt my face flush even more, and before I could respond, a familiar voice broke into the conversation. “What’s with the staring, cariño?”

My heart raced involuntarily, and my cheeks flushed red, but I forced a sarcastic smile. “I—I just don’t like that shirt, that’s all.”

Franco’s playful grin widened as he tilted his head slightly. “I’ll gladly take it off for you if you want me to.”

Lando burst into laughter and took a step back, clearly enjoying the tension. “Oh, I’ll leave you two to sort that out.”

Oscar, ever the quiet observer, gave a smirk and a knowing nod before following Lando, leaving me and Franco alone.

“You’re way too smug for someone who just got their seat,” I muttered, crossing my arms defensively.

Franco chuckled softly, his dark eyes still sparkling with amusement. “They brought me here for a reason, Y/N. There’s nothing wrong with being self-assured.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words caught in my throat as I found myself staring at his eyes again—the way they seemed to shimmer in the dim light. His presence unnerved me in a way that no one else ever had.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Franco said quietly, stepping closer, his voice dropping slightly, filled with both promise and challenge. He softly brushed his hand against my arm, the touch sending a shiver through me. “Just watch.”

Before I could respond, Max’s voice boomed from across the room. “Oi, Franco! Stop flirting! I got us another round of gin tonics!”

Franco glanced over his shoulder and smirked before turning back to me. “See you tomorrow,” he said, his voice soft and teasing, before walking off, leaving me standing there, heart racing for reasons I didn’t want to admit.

Friday morning’s free practice was the perfect chance for the teams to fine-tune their setups before qualifying, but for me, it was another opportunity to watch Franco. I stood in the Williams garage, my arms crossed as I kept one eye on the lap times flashing on the screen, the other on Franco’s progress on track.

“How’s he looking?” I asked Alex, trying to keep my tone neutral, but the curiosity in my voice betrayed me.

Alex, who had already come back into the garage mid-session, didn’t look away from the data in front of him. “Decent. He’s still getting used to the car, but he’s quick. He’s got potential, Y/N.”

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Potential doesn’t win races, though.”

Alex glanced at me with a grin. “You’re tough. Give him a break. He’s still new.”

Before I could argue back, James Vowles, the Williams team principal, stepped into the conversation, his voice measured and commanding, but always reassuring. “Patience, Y/N. Drivers need time to grow, especially in this environment. Franco’s performance has been promising so far, and that’s all we can ask for at this stage.”

I smirked, shaking my head. “I’m not sure Franco’s the ‘take time to grow’ type. He’s way too sure of himself.”

James folded his arms, smiling slightly while shaking his head. “Confidence is a tool, Y/N. If used correctly, it can be an asset. And from what I’ve seen, Franco understands that balance. Let’s not underestimate him too soon.”

Alex chuckled, nudging me. “Even James is on his side. Come on, give the guy a chance.”

As if summoned by the conversation, Franco’s Williams car came flying past the garage on track, a blur of blue and white as it whipped around the corner. I watched his lap times closely—each split was faster than the last.

“Looks like he’s getting the hang of it,” Alex said, raising an eyebrow toward me.

I couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. “Fine. He’s… better than I thought. But that doesn’t mean anything yet.”

After the second practice session ended and the drivers returned to the garage, I found myself lingering near the pit wall, watching as the cars were rolled back into the garage. Franco emerged from his car, pulling off his helmet, his fluffy hair tousled and damp with sweat. He was wiping his brow with the sleeve of his race suit when his eyes caught mine.

Franco approached me with that familiar, irritating grin. “Enjoying the show?” he asked, his voice light but teasing as always.

I raised an eyebrow, trying to sound unimpressed. “It’s fine. Could be better.”

Franco chuckled softly, stopping just close enough that I could catch the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the track’s lingering heat. “You’ve got high standards, I see.”

“I am just realistic,” I shot back, finally meeting his gaze. “Not sure you’ll live up to your own expectations, Colapinto.”

For a second, Franco’s playful smile faltered, but he quickly recovered, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Y/N, I’m pretty sure I can meet—and exceed—any expectations you’ve got for me.”

I crossed my arms, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Big words for someone who hasn’t proved anything yet.”

Franco took a step closer, the teasing edge in his voice never fading. “Oh, I’ll prove it. Just keep watching.” He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a murmur. “You’ll be impressed soon enough.”

My pulse quickened as his words hung in the air. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Franco winked and stepped back.

“You can tell me what you think tomorrow,” he added over his shoulder, walking away with that infuriating confidence, leaving me standing there, frustrated and flustered all at once.

Just as I tried to collect myself, Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, wandered over. Her soft, sweet demeanor was the perfect counter to the high-pressure environment.

“Everything okay, Y/N?” she asked gently, noticing the slight tension still lingering on my face.

I huffed, folding my arms across my chest. “He’s impossible.”

Lily smiled knowingly, tilting her head. “I’ve seen you two talking more and more recently. Doesn’t seem like you think he’s that impossible.”

“He is trust me,” I muttered, though my tone was less convincing now.

Lily gave me a soft, encouraging smile, her voice gentle and kind. “You know, sometimes it’s okay to let your guard down. Not everyone’s as bad as they seem at first.”

I looked at Lily, rolling my eyes but feeling the truth in her words sink in. “You really think he’s a good guy?”

Lily shrugged with a sweet grin. “Maybe. I think you’re more interested in finding that out than you want to admit.”

I shook my head, but the feeling that maybe—just maybe—Lily was right gnawed at me as I watched Franco walk away, his figure disappearing into the garage.

Saturday was always charged with anticipation—qualifying day. The pressure in the paddock was thick, and I could feel the weight of it hanging in the air as I wandered through the bustling paddock. Every team member was focused, every driver mentally preparing for the intense session ahead. I, on the other hand, was lost in my thoughts, trying to distract myself from the growing irritation I felt whenever Franco popped into my mind.

Why does he always have to be so smug? I thought, frowning to myself as I made my way toward the drivers’ rooms. Always with the teasing, always with that stupid grin.

I was looking for Alex, but my mind was still tangled in thoughts of Franco—how his words had lingered from yesterday’s exchange, how his presence had become harder and harder to ignore. Whether it was the playful sparkle in his bright eyes or the way his fluffy, tousled hair fell effortlessly, something about him unsettled me.

Absentmindedly, I pushed open a door, not thinking twice about it—until I froze.

There stood Franco, half-dressed.

He was in the middle of pulling on his race suit, shirtless, his toned torso on full display. His skin gleamed under the soft lights of the room, and his dark hair was slightly damp, falling in messy waves over his forehead. He hadn’t noticed me at first, but when he looked up, his dark eyes locked on mine, surprise flickering across his face. It didn’t last long, though—his expression quickly shifted into that familiar, teasing grin I had come to expect.

“Well, well,” he drawled, voice laced with amusement, “didn’t expect you to walk in on me like this, but I’m not complaining.”

I froze, my cheeks flushing as I struggled to recover my composure. “I wasn’t—this isn’t—I was looking for Alex!” I stammered, my voice sharper than I intended.

Franco raised an eyebrow, his grin only growing wider. “Uh-huh. Sure you were.”

My irritation flared, and I crossed my arms, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “Don’t flatter yourself, Colapinto. This was clearly a mistake.”

Franco took a step closer, his tone still light, but the teasing in his eyes unmistakable. “A mistake, huh? Yet, here you are. Still standing here.”

My pulse quickened, and I cursed my body for reacting to his presence. He was too close now, and the space between us felt charged, heavy with something I didn’t want to name.

“You’re full of yourself, you know that?” I shot back, lifting my chin, refusing to be intimidated.

Franco chuckled softly, his eyes locked on mine. “Maybe. But you seem pretty caught up in me for someone who claims not to care.”

I scoffed, stepping back but finding myself backed against the door. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible?” Franco echoed, the amusement never leaving his voice. “Or just irresistible?”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “In your dreams, maybe.”

Franco’s gaze softened slightly, and for a moment, the teasing edge faded. “You keep acting like this, but I see through it.”

I frowned, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “Acting like what?”

He shrugged, taking another small step closer, his voice lower now. “Like you hate me. But every time we talk, it feels like something else is going on.”

My breath hitched, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to look away. I hated that he could read me so easily, hated the way he made me feel like I was constantly on the back foot.

“Don’t get it twisted, Franco,” I said, my voice firmer this time. “You annoy me. That’s it.”

Franco smirked again, but there was something different in his eyes now—a challenge. “If you say so. But if I annoy you so much, why do you keep ending up here? In my space?”

I didn’t have an answer. Or at least, not one I was willing to admit out loud. The truth was, every time we clashed, it felt like the air between us was crackling with more than just annoyance. But I wasn’t ready to face that yet.

“I’m here because I thought this was Alex’s room,” I said finally, the sharpness returning to my voice. “Don’t read too much into it.”

Franco laughed softly, his expression softening as he stepped back, giving me some space but still keeping that annoying smirk. “Alright. But next time you want to drop by, just knock.”

I shot him a glare, my frustration flaring again. “You wish.”

With that, I turned on my heel and reached for the door, determined to leave the awkwardness behind. But before I could open it, Franco leaned in close, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “You’ll be back.”

I whipped my head around, my eyes narrowing. “Don’t count on it.”

Franco chuckled as he watched me go, shaking his head in amusement. “See you around, Y/N.”

The door clicked shut behind me, and I leaned against the wall, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My mind was spinning, my heart racing, and the worst part? I couldn’t stop thinking about that damn smirk.

Inside the room, Franco finished pulling on his suit, a small smile still tugging at his lips. He couldn’t help it—there was something about me that made every interaction feel like a game, one he was very much enjoying.

By the time qualifying ended, Franco had placed 18th—not spectacular, but solid enough for a rookie still adjusting to the car. The Williams team seemed satisfied with the result, and after the session, I found myself lingering in the pitlane, chatting with Oscar and Lando, both of whom were waiting for their post-quali interviews.

Lando, ever the jokester, leaned against the wall with a grin. “You know,” he said, “I like that guy. He’s got that cheeky energy. A bit like me.”

I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Great, that’s exactly what we need—two Lando Norrises.”

Lando laughed, nudging me playfully. “Hey, the world would be lucky.”

Oscar, always the calm and collected one, stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression thoughtful. “You’ve got to admit,” he said casually, “Franco’s improving. He’s faster than last time.”

I shrugged, unimpressed. “Yeah, well, let’s see if that holds up. Confidence doesn’t always mean results.”

Lando grinned, nudging me with a playful elbow. “You’re only saying that because you don’t want to admit he’s growing on you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “He’s not growing on me. If anything, he’s just growing more annoying.”

Oscar smirked, glancing between me and Lando. “Annoying, huh? Funny how you keep talking about him, though.”

Before I could respond, Franco appeared, fresh from his post-session debrief. He looked as smug as ever, a towel draped over his shoulders, his hair slightly damp. He caught my eye immediately, his usual grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Franco approached, clearly enjoying the way I tensed up at his arrival. His grin grew wider, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks even before he said a word.

“What’s this? Talking about me again, Y/N?” he teased, his voice smooth as always.

I crossed my arms, determined not to let him get under my skin. “I’m pretty sure not everything’s about you, Franco.”

Lando, grinning like a Cheshire cat, leaned over to Franco, speaking just loud enough for me to hear. “Oh, mate, trust me. She’s been talking about you all day.”

Franco’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. “Really?”

My face flushed as I shot Lando a warning look. “Lando!”

Lando threw his hands up in mock surrender, enjoying every second of my discomfort. “I’m just saying what I see. You’ve been all eyes on Colapinto here. Don’t blame me for stating facts.”

Oscar chuckled softly, his quiet amusement adding to the playful atmosphere. “It’s true. You’ve mentioned him at least three times already.”

I glared at both of them, my irritation growing by the second. “You two are impossible.”

Franco chuckled, stepping closer to me, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Come on. I saw the way you looked at me this morning. You can admit it—you’ve been thinking about me.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, watching the exchange with quiet curiosity, while Lando stood by, grinning like he was watching his favorite sitcom unfold.

“Thinking about how you’re the most irritating person I’ve ever met? Maybe,” I shot back, refusing to back down as Franco leaned in slightly, his bright eyes sparkling with mischief.

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” Franco said smoothly, lowering his voice just enough to make my heart race.

I was about to retort when Alex joined us, clapping Franco on the back. “Good session, man. You’re getting faster.”

Franco nodded, but his eyes never left mine. “Thanks, but it seems like Y/N here has higher standards than the rest of you.”

Lando smirked, clearly loving the drama. “Oh, she does. Don’t take it personally, Franco. She’s got high standards for all of us.”

I glared at Lando, but before I could say anything, Franco leaned in slightly, his bright eyes still locked on mine. “Good thing I love a challenge.”

I scoffed, tightening my arms across my chest. “Trust me, Colapinto, you’ve got a long way to go before you meet my standards.”

Franco’s grin only widened. “Good thing I’m persistent.”

Before I could respond, Alex laughed, clearly oblivious to the tension bubbling between us. “Alright, let’s cool it before the next round of banter turns into an all-out war. Y/N, we’re having dinner with the guys tonight—join us?”

I hesitated, my gaze flicking between Alex and Franco, who was still watching me with that infuriating smirk.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” I muttered, “just need to freshen up a bit,” shooting Franco one last look before heading toward the paddock exit.

“Fun! We’ll meet you in the lobby at 8!” Alex called after me as I walked away, while the guys gathered for their post-qualifying interviews.

Dinner that evening was supposed to be a chance to unwind after the high-pressure qualifying session, but the moment I realized Franco was joining us, my mood soured. I hadn’t expected him to be part of the group, assuming it would just be me, Alex, George, Oscar, and Lando. But as soon as I saw him enter the restaurant, his easy confidence on full display, I knew the night wasn’t going to go as planned.

Of course he’s here, I thought, rolling my eyes as he slipped into the seat across from me, wearing that same infuriating smirk.

Franco greeted everyone with casual charm, clearly enjoying himself, but every glance he threw my way felt designed to provoke me. It didn’t help that Lando, seated beside me, was in a particularly mischievous mood.

Soon enough, the waiter came over to take our orders, and things started to get even more interesting.

“Alright, what’ll it be?” the waiter asked.

“I’ll take the risotto,” Alex said, glancing at the menu one last time before handing it over.

"Might I be so bold as to request the same for myself?" George added.

Oscar ordered quickly, as calm and collected as ever. “Just a steak, medium-rare, thanks.”

I scanned the menu, trying not to think about Franco sitting directly across from me. I settled on my favorite pasta dish, handing my menu to the waiter. “I’ll have the truffle ravioli.”

When the waiter turned to Franco, I braced myself for whatever cheeky comment he was about to make.

“I’ll go for the truffle ravioli,” he said, then paused, glancing at me with a smirk. “But only if it’s as good as they say it is.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s ravioli, Franco. Not a fine wine. Relax.”

Lando, who had clearly been enjoying the tension building between us, grinned as he scanned the menu. “I’ll have the spaghetti. Extra sauce.”

“Surprising,” I deadpanned, “I thought you’d go for something a bit less… messy.”

Lando leaned back, tossing his menu aside with dramatic flair. “Messy? You must not follow the gossip pages, Y/N. I love messy. Besides, I have big plans for this spaghetti.”

Alex groaned. “Please behave.”

Lando wiggled his eyebrows, already looking pleased with himself. “Oh, just wait.”

As the waiter left, the group settled into casual conversation, the mood light despite the simmering tension between Franco and me. Alex, always the big brother, couldn’t resist dragging me into an embarrassing memory.

“You should’ve seen Y/N when she decided she was going to be an inventor,” Alex began, grinning as I sighed dramatically. “She built this elaborate ‘trap’ to catch the family cat. We’re talking string, boxes, and a broomstick involved—it looked like something out of Home Alone.”

I groaned. “Oh God, here we go.”

Alex was enjoying himself too much to stop. “She spent hours perfecting it. She swore it would work. And guess what? It didn’t catch the cat—it caught Mum instead.”

Lando burst into laughter, his eyes wide with excitement. “Y/N, an engineer in the making! I would’ve paid to see that.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide my grin. “Okay, it wasn’t my best idea, but it wasn’t that bad!”

Alex snorted. “Mum had to wriggle out of it while holding the groceries. To this day, she doesn’t trust any ‘surprise’ Y/N sets up.”

Franco, who had been quietly following the story, leaned forward with his signature smirk. “Sounds like I need to watch my back around you, Y/N.”

I shot him a look, my voice dry but teasing. “Trust me, I’ve improved since then. You wouldn’t see it coming.”

Franco smirked. “I’ve got my eyes on you.”

Before I could reply, the waiter returned with our food. Plates were placed in front of us, and Lando’s spaghetti arrived with an extra helping of sauce just as he’d requested.

“Oh, yes,” Lando said, rubbing his hands together like a mischievous child. “Now, let the fun begin.”

It looked like he was up to his usual antics, twirling his spaghetti with great concentration, his grin widening as he arranged the strings very carefully on his plate.

“Lando,” I said, raising an eyebrow, “what are you doing?”

Lando leaned back, arms crossed proudly as he surveyed his masterpiece. “Creating art, Y/N. Pure, unadulterated art.”

"Goodness gracious, Lando we are at a bloody restaurant!" George put on his sunglasses, trying his best to distance himself from the childlike behaviour of his friend.

I glanced down at his plate and burst out laughing. “Bunda? Seriously?”

Lando’s grin only widened. “What can I say? I’m a man of culture.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Yeah, spelling ‘BUNDA’ with spaghetti really says a lot about you. Deep.”

Lando pretended to be offended, clutching his chest dramatically. “Ouch, mate. I’m expressing myself here.”

I laughed, shaking my head at the absurdity. But despite the humor, I could still feel Franco’s eyes on me, watching every move I made.

As the evening wore on, the banter at the table continued, but the undercurrent of tension between Franco and me was impossible to ignore. Every time I looked up, I caught him watching me—his eyes glinting with amusement, like he knew exactly how much he was getting under my skin. It was maddening, yet I couldn’t deny the strange pull that kept drawing my attention back to him.

Finally, unable to take it anymore, I decided to address the elephant in the room.

“So,” I began, cutting through the chatter at the table, “Franco, how does it feel stepping into a seat that wasn’t exactly yours?”

The table went quiet almost instantly. Alex shot me a look—half warning, half pleading—but I ignored it, my eyes locked on Franco. I couldn’t hold back the resentment that had been simmering for weeks. Logan had been my friend, and I wasn’t about to let Franco think he could just waltz in and take his place without any consequences.

Franco’s smile faltered for just a second, but he recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m here because I earned it,” he replied evenly, his voice calm but with an edge. “Not my fault if others couldn’t keep up.”

I didn’t back down. “I don’t think you earned it. I think you’re just here because of the sponsors. Anyone can see there are plenty of drivers with more potential than you.”

Franco’s jaw tightened slightly, and the playful glint in his eyes dimmed. The atmosphere around the table shifted, and even Lando, who had been proudly admiring his spaghetti art, stopped mid-bite to watch the exchange.

“Y/N,” Alex said softly, trying to ease the tension, but I barely registered his voice.

Franco’s gaze didn’t waver. “I don’t need to justify my place to you.”

I leaned in, my voice cold. “You don’t have to. It’s already obvious why you’re here.”

Franco’s eyes flashed with something darker, but instead of responding with the sharp retort I expected, he stood abruptly, pushing his chair back from the table. “I think I’ll call it a night. See you tomorrow.”

Without another word, Franco walked away, leaving me sitting there, my own words hanging in the air. The weight of what I had said settled in, a knot of guilt forming in my chest. Maybe I had gone too far.

Lando let out a low whistle. “Well… that escalated quickly.”

Alex sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Y/N, that was harsh. You didn’t have to push him like that.”

Oscar, who had been quiet for most of the dinner, finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. “You’re allowed to be upset, Y/N, but that wasn’t the way to handle it.”

I didn’t respond immediately. I knew they were right—deep down, I knew—but something about Franco just set me off in ways I couldn’t control.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you two,” Alex said, his tone softening as he looked at me, “but you need to talk it out before this gets worse.”

I glanced toward the door where Franco had disappeared, the guilt gnawing at me. Franco had a way of bringing out the worst in me, and now, I wasn’t sure how to fix it.

Later that night, I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed, staring out of the hotel window at the glowing city lights below. The confrontation with Franco during dinner replayed in my mind, each pass making me feel worse. I hated how easily he got to me, how every exchange with him seemed to spiral into something bigger than it needed to be. But what bothered me most was that deep down, it wasn’t just anger. There was something else beneath the frustration—something I didn’t want to admit.

A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. I hesitated for a moment before standing up to answer it. When I opened the door, Alex stood there, leaning casually against the frame, his expression a mix of concern and that familiar big-brother teasing.

“Mind if I come in?” he asked.

I stepped aside, letting him in without saying a word. Alex walked over to the small seating area near the window and sat down, waiting for me to join him. The silence stretched between us for a moment before he finally spoke.

“You want to talk about it?”

I sighed, closing the door and sitting across from him. “Not really.”

Alex chuckled softly. “You sure? Because I’ve been watching you two for a while now, and it’s pretty clear something’s going on.”

I ran a hand through my hair, avoiding his gaze. “He just—he gets under my skin.”

“That much is obvious,” Alex said, his tone light but not unkind. “But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

I shook my head, feeling frustration bubbling up again. “I thought I couldn’t stand him. He’s arrogant, cocky, always trying to show off… but today, I pushed too far. And I know it.”

Alex nodded, watching me closely. “Franco’s sure of himself, yeah, but did you ever think that maybe he has to be so overly confident? The media and Netflix are always after us already, let alone if you replace someone halfway through the season. He’s not a bad guy, Y/N. You’ve been pretty hard on him since he joined.”

I sighed, feeling the weight of his words settle on my shoulders. “You’re right. I just didn’t expect him to… I don’t know, get to me like this.”

Alex leaned back, giving me a thoughtful look. “Y/N, you’re used to having things figured out—people, situations. But Franco doesn’t fit into that box you tried to put him in, and it’s throwing you off.”

I frowned, feeling the truth of Alex’s words sink in. I had been so sure of what kind of person Franco was, but the more time I spent around him, the harder it became to keep him in that neat little box I had created.

“He’s different than I thought,” I admitted finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’s still confident, but there’s more to him than just the cocky guy I thought he was.”

Alex smiled softly. “Exactly. So maybe instead of pushing him away, you should try to figure out what’s really going on between the two of you.”

I bit my lip, my heart heavy with guilt. “Do you think he’ll forgive me?”

Alex chuckled, his voice gentle. “You won’t know until you try. Talk to him. You’ll feel better once you do.”

Unable to sleep, I tossed and turned in bed, my mind spinning with guilt and frustration. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the look on Franco’s face when I pushed him too far at dinner. I knew I had crossed a line, but admitting it was harder than I thought.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I found myself slipping out of bed, grabbing my jacket to cover my nightgown, and quietly leaving my hotel room. The hallway was dimly lit, and the quiet hum of the city outside felt distant as I made my way toward Franco’s room.

My heart pounded as I reached his door. I hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was a good idea. But before I could talk myself out of it, I knocked softly.

The door swung open, and Franco stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of surprise and something else—something unreadable. He was dressed casually in a t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair still slightly damp, as if he had just showered.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice low. “What are you doing here?”

I swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of my nerves. “I—I came to apologize.”

Franco crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe, his dark eyes watching me carefully. “For what, exactly?”

I bit my lip, trying to find the right words. “For what I said at dinner. I… I was out of line. I let my frustration get the better of me, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

For a moment, Franco didn’t say anything. He simply studied me, his expression unreadable, and the silence between us felt heavy, charged with something I couldn’t quite place.

Finally, he sighed, stepping aside and gesturing for me to come in. “You might as well come in. We shouldn’t do this in the hallway.”

I hesitated, but eventually stepped into Franco’s room, the door clicking shut behind me. The air between us was thick, the unspoken tension hanging like a storm ready to break. Franco leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he watched me carefully, his dark eyes searching my face for something I wasn’t sure I could give him.

“I didn’t expect you to apologize,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, softer but still holding that familiar edge. “You’ve been pretty set on hating me.”

I shook my head, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t hate you. I was just… frustrated. I thought you were just this arrogant guy who didn’t care about anyone but himself, but you’re not like that. You surprised me, and I guess I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Franco’s expression softened, but there was still a teasing spark in his eyes. “Surprised you, huh? So I’m not as terrible as you thought?”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, despite the tension in the room. “Not completely terrible I guess.”

We stood there in the quiet for a moment, the weight of the apology settling between us. His eyes never left mine, and there was something in his gaze that made my heart race, something that had been there all along but that I’d refused to acknowledge.

“You didn’t have to come here,” Franco said, his voice low, a slight vulnerability in his tone that caught me off guard. “But I’m glad you did.”

My breath caught in my throat as the distance between us suddenly felt smaller, more intimate. The tension that had simmered for so long now felt like it was about to snap, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it. But I couldn’t move away, couldn’t bring myself to break the moment.

Instead, I took a step closer, my heart racing as our eyes locked. The silence between us felt heavy, full of things neither of us was willing to say, but we didn’t need words. I could feel it in the air, in the way his gaze softened, in the way my pulse quickened.

Franco reached out, his hand brushing lightly against mine. His touch was hesitant at first, almost as if he was waiting for me to pull away. But I didn’t. Instead, I took another step closer, closing the gap between us, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

When he leaned in, it wasn’t sudden—it was slow, deliberate. His lips brushed against mine softly at first, a hesitant kiss that quickly deepened as the tension between us finally broke. My hands found their way to his chest, and I felt the warmth of his skin beneath his t-shirt as his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer.

The kiss was everything we had held back, all the frustration and unspoken attraction we had been pretending didn’t exist. It was slow at first, then more urgent, as if we were both trying to make up for all the time we had wasted fighting it.

Franco’s hand moved to cup my face, his thumb gently brushing against my cheek as he kissed me, and I felt a warmth spread through me that I hadn’t expected. I didn’t want to admit how badly I had wanted this, how much I had been waiting for this moment, even though I had denied it to myself for so long.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless, our foreheads resting against each other as we caught our breath. My hands were still pressed against his chest, and his arms stayed firmly around my waist, neither of us willing to break the connection completely.

Franco was the first to speak, his voice low and filled with a soft amusement. “So, I guess that’s one way to make up.”

I laughed lightly, my heart still racing. “Maybe.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at me properly, his gaze more serious now but still holding that familiar teasing edge. “You know, I didn’t think this would happen.”

“Me either,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not mad about it.”

Franco’s lips curved into a small smile, and he leaned in again, this time pressing a softer, lingering kiss to my forehead before pulling away entirely. He didn’t let go of me completely, though, his hands still resting on my waist as he looked at me, his eyes searching mine for something I wasn’t sure I could name.

“We don’t have to figure everything out tonight,” he said quietly, his voice gentle but filled with something deeper. “But I think we both know there’s more going on here than just… whatever this is.”

I nodded, unable to find the words to respond. He was right, of course. This was more than just the heat of the moment—it had been building for a while, even if neither of us had been willing to admit it. But now that the tension had finally broken, it felt like there was no going back.

“Yeah,” I whispered, my voice soft. “There’s definitely more.”

***

He looked me deeply into my eyes before closing the space between us again. When our lips met again, it wasn’t the tentative kiss from before—this time, it was full of fire, all the pent-up tension and frustration we had been holding onto. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, and my hands slid up to his shoulders, fingers threading into his hair.

Everything felt heightened—the softness of his touch, the warmth of his breath, the way my body responded to every move he made. There was a sense of inevitability between us, like this moment had always been coming, but now that it was here, it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

As we stumbled backward toward the bed, the kisses deepened, more urgent now. Franco’s hands found the hem of my dress, his touch both careful and eager, as though he wanted to savor every moment spent undressing me. My heart raced in anticipation, my skin humming under his fingertips.

Franco softly pushed me onto the bed, taking a few seconds to admire the sight before him before taking off his shirt and lowering himself onto me. My breath hitched as Franco’s lips trailed down my neck, each kiss sending sparks through my body. 

“Fuck you are so beautiful.” He softly mumbled, making heartbeat race even faster. What was this man doing to you?

His kisses softened around your inner thighs. 

“Do you want me to keep going?”

Awakened from my trance, I opened my eyes and looked down to meet his. “Please, don’t stop.”

That same cocky grin reappeared on his face. “Are you expectations as high as they are for my driving?”

I rolled your eyes. “Stop with the jokes Franco, I need you, please!”

“I’ve been waiting to hear that all weekend”

Without hesitation he roughly pulled down my lacy black panties, inserting one finger into my core while his tongue worked my already swollen clit. 

Sweet moans filled the room like music as he added another finger inside me. I could feel him smile down there.

“Can’t believe how wet you are for me. It’s so sexy.”

Soon my back started arching involuntarily. My hands, that were softly stroking through his hair as he worked me, now began gripping his dark brown locks tightly.

“Fuck Franco I’m so close.” I moaned, heart racing in my chest. 

To my disappointment he pulled away. Before I had the chance to start whining, he pulled down his sweats to reveal his huge dick. With lustful eyes I looked the beautiful man standing in front of me up and down. He looked incredible, the messy hair making him even sexier. 

He climbed back on top of me, softly kissing me, leaving me to taste my own excitement on his lips. 

Leaning over, he gently kissed my ears. “I want to feel you finish around me.” he whispered in his low husky voice.

Before the excitement had even reached my core, he slid his dick in, leaving no time for me to adjust to his size. He started ramming into me at dangerous pace, leaving me to cry out from the mixture the pain and pleasure. 

Franco’s hands roamed over my body, exploring, claiming, as though he had been craving this moment for too long. Every touch, every sound was laced with the weight of everything we had been holding back.

My breath hitched as he pulled out and flipped me over. His hands gliding over my ass while he repositioned himself in front of my entrance. 

“Where do you want me to cum later?” he asked, while grabbing my hair, giving it a little tug.

“In my mouth please.” My voice was hitchy from the thrill. 

I felt Franco’s dick twitch against me. He pulled me up to him by my hair and began kissing my neck more, his free hand playing with my boob.

“Is that so? And are you going to swallow it for me?”

I moaned. “Happily.”

He let go of my hair which led me to fall back on all fours on the mattress. I felt the palm of his hand smack hard against my ass, breath caught in my throat, my body trembling in response to his. He slid in and sweet sensations filled my body yet again. 

As the intensity built, Franco’s voice dropped to a whisper, his breath hot against my skin. “I’ve wanted this… wanted you… for so long.”

My only response was a soft gasp, my body arching toward his. I could feel the raw need in every movement, in the way his hands gripped mine tighter, his lips tracing fire along my skin. The tension that had been crackling between the two of you for weeks finally exploded in a wave of release, leaving us both breathless.

“Franco I-“ I couldn’t finish my sentence as a wave of pleasure went through my body.

He kept going as I completely soaked him, the wet pounding and both of your moans being the only sound in the room. 

When he was close, he flipped you over again to face him, stroking his long dick a couple times while I opened my mouth for him.  While I looked deeply into his glistering eyes, he released into my mouth. The warm salty taste made me ecstatic, sucking him off to make sure I had every last drop to swallow. 

Exhausted, we both let ourselves fall down on the bed. Heavy breathing filling the room.

“Such a good girl for me.” Franco smiled as he brushed through my hair. He pulled me closer in his muscular arms, our bodies still pressed close, the remainder of the storm we had just weathered lingering in the quiet of the room. Franco’s fingers traced light patterns along my arm, his breath still uneven as he looked at me, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of something deeper than just satisfaction.

I smiled, heart still racing but in a calmer, more settled way now. “Neither was I.”

We both didn’t need to say anything more. The silence was comfortable now, the tension replaced by a quiet understanding that whatever had just happened had changed things. As the two of us lay together, the connection that had once been full of conflict now felt like something new, something Franco and I both wanted to explore.

[miloformula123fan]

Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife author!reader? ( He's at Williams ) He always goes to her events even though he's busy but he still makes time just to support her. And vice versa. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks!! :))

this is definitely not amazing, but im secretly quite happy with it

(also updates are gonna slow the fuck down because i have assessments and exams this term yay /s)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

james vowles x wife!author!reader

---

book talk:

Y/N watched as a teenage girl walked up to the microphone. She clearly looked nervous, as had many other people coming up, but Y/N tried to make her feel as at ease as possible.

“Um…hey Y/N, my name is Elodie, and I just wanted to say how much I love your writing…” - Elodie

James quietly shut the door, once Logan and Alex were through, and didn’t try and push through the crowded room, they instead settled for a spot near the back where they could still see Y/N. They were sure that if people recognised them, they would be shunted towards the front or ushered backstage. They didn’t want that, they just wanted to stay inconspicuous at the back.

“Aww thank you Elodie, what was your question?” Y/N smiled reassuringly

“Um…well, for your book, ‘a sweet sting of salt’, I was just wondering if you had any inspiration for the character Tobias. While he isn’t the best character in the story, you said he was one of your favourite characters to write, and I was just wondering why?” Eloise asked

“Oh, that is a good question, thank you Elodie. Um… while the actions are obviously not based on him, a lot of Tobias’ so-called ‘good’ elements are actually based on my husband. So…okay I’m gonna hope that everyone has read the book, so I don’t spoil it,” she smiled “Um, so for those of you who are unaware, my husband is James Vowles, and he is the Team Principal of Williams, which is a motorsport for those who are very out of the loop. So I guess the main words I would use to describe both Tobias and James, other than loving because Tobias is definitely not, are logical, quiet, grounded, organised and productive.”

James smiles, watching his wife talk about something she was so passionate about.

“So for example, for logical qualities for Tobias and James in chapter 10, Tobias uses deductive reasoning, which I would like to say is James’ strong suit, however he sometimes misuses it, like deducing who ate the chocolate, the wife or the dog. Tobias uses it for more evil, using it for working out how to do the things he does. Maybe they are more evil and similar and similar.” Y/N pondered, garnering a small laugh from the audience

James stopped smiling, as he listened to his wife compare him to a literal murderer in her book. Logan and Alex were standing next to him, trying to avoid their laughs.

“Then for quiet, in chapter 16, James likes sneaking around and scaring the shit out of me when he gets back from the factory and from races to scare the shit out of me, and Tobias uses it for murder. Huh, maybe these 2 characters are closer together than I thought.” Y/N pondered, laughing as she saw her husband’s face

“Darling, I’m not a thief and a murderer. I honestly don’t know why you based Tobias off of me.” James tried to mediate.

However it was enough for Alex and Logan to burst out laughing, joining in with the rest of the crowd, who had discovered that James was there and found it very funny.

“I’m just saying you share similar qualities, more than I initially insisted. Are you sure you didn’t secretly murder someone?” Y/N tilted her head, as if genuinely thinking about the question

“Darling…” James tried to plead again

“ANYWAY - Then for grounded, in chapter 18…” - Y/N, moved on, continuing with her ideas.

---

garage:

“And during this safety car period, Alex, our camera man has gone for a wander and he has gone down to the Williams garage, and while we’re normally looking at the team principal or other important people, we have instead zoomed in on Y/N Vowles. Now for those who don’t know, she is a writer, and she seems pretty hard at work at this book on her laptop. Now that will be good news for anyone who reads her books, including me, she writes very good books, available at all the awesome book stores, and no she hasn’t paid us for that, we just think her books are amazing. Oh and she waved at us. Hi Y/N!” - Jolyon said from the commentary box

James smiled at the sight of Y/N on his screen. While this weekend had been very stressful, it was very nice having his wife be there for him in the garage and then back at the hotel rooms, even after all the late meetings. He watched as she smiled and waved at the screen, and he was unable to resist the temptation as he smiled at the picture and waved back, earning another laugh from the commentators.

---

book talk part 2:

“Sorry Y/N, my name is Leo, this is a bit of a personal question…” a teenage boy asked

“...as long as it’s not when I’m having a baby, or where I live, it should be okay, hit me!”  Y/N tried to put him at ease.

“Your schedule for this book tour is a little all over the place, if you don’t mind me saying, it was basically like the first 2 months of the year, and now there’s just kinda weeks off or even months off, and I was just wondering if there was any sense to the schedule.” Leo shuffled awkwardly, unsure of how she would react to the question.

“Ah, well there actually is. First off, I cannot tour every week of the year, because I think I would just simply die. But the reason I picked those weeks off is because if my husband again. Are you guys sensing a pattern here? I love James, and I really want to support him at all the f1 races. So those are the weeks I took off, basically. And second, Baby Vowles is due in 6 months, thanks guys!” Y/N laughed as she put down the microphone and walked off stage, laughing as the cheers from the crowd grew louder.

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206

[waystar-ahegao]

The Roys React to You in Heat:

Shiv:

She pinches her nose. Ugh. Seriously? Here? But secretly, she loves your scent

Roman:

Uhhh Y/N did you just rip ass? God it smells fucking disgusting in here. I mean, sure, it gets me rock hard, like leaking through my knot or whatever but seriously THAT’S your scent?? He’d never say it but he envies your abilities of pregnancy.

Kendall:

Y-you wanna? I can smell it on you haha. You’re so ripe right now like a fucking uh peach, my little fucking peach. Call me Timothee Chalamet then. This time it’ll fucking work. You do not get pregnant that night. He’s infertile and knows it

Connor:

Alright, let’s get this show on the road! I’ve taken those supplements I was telling you about, I’ve been tracking your cycles and taking them in conjunction to ensure the best possible breeding I can give you. We got this! Don’t come this time though, if you can, my message boards are saying an omega’s orgasm can cause asthma in the baby.

Logan:

Get the FUCK out of my way! Y/N, now’s our chance! I NEED to get them pregnant right fucking now! I NEED AN HEIR!

Tom:

Ooooohhh what’s this aroma wafting over me? Is that a fresh pie sitting on a window sill? Will you see me floating over to you, lifted asunder by your scent? Come here, Y/N, let me get a good smell of you… He spends a good hour smelling your glands until he gets you very heavily pregnant.

Greg:

O-oh, uh, for me? W-wow I’m like… so flattered, like, honestly but right now isn’t like… the best time? Yeah, I did get that promotion but like I’m not the best at spending money on others? It’s just like a thing but… you do smell really good… okay how about this, w-what if I get you pregnant and then you can take care of it? Like sometimes I’m around when the baby is chill or whatever and you take care of it? For the most part? Please?

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

Hi! Do you have a favorite ship for each Boyd character?

I am sorry this one took me so long!! Couldn’t be helped - I’m such a multi-shipper in general, and it was so tough narrowing these down! (And I still cheated a bit!😅 But here we go!!)

Steve Murphy: Oh man, it’s gotta be Javi. They’re coworkers with baggage!! There’s so many trust issues and the occasional bad blood but it’s clear this is also the most intimate relationship in both of their lives. These are lonely, obsessed workaholics who can only really take solace in each other. Plus, Holbrook staring longingly at Pedro Pascal will never get old. But I gotta give an honorable mention to Steve/Pacho Herrera. I mean - sexy, openly gay narco kidnaps DEA agent, proceeds to greet him soaking wet and shirtless, fresh off a swim. He made him a cocktail! Steve said they were good!!! How long did you stay there after, Steve?? Be honest with us!!

Donald Pierce: I am a HUGE multi-shipper for Pierce. I don’t think I’ve seen a Pierce ship that I don’t like! I like them all! But my all-time favorite has gotta be Gabby/Pierce. There really is an entire story with those two we only get little glimpses of – she calls him her boyfriend (although it’s unclear how honest she’s being in that scene), but more than that, they were *friends*! They were both comic book nerds! She managed to steal 20k in cash from him! They were probably so close at one point, and it implies *so much* about what Pierce is probably like in his private life, with people he trusts, because I cannot see Gabriela Lopez being good friends with somebody who exclusively acts like an overly masc mercenary asshole. Never gonna get over how the original script calls for Pierce to leeringly describe Gabby’s “long legs” and “long hair” to Logan, but Holbrook notably nixes that bit. There’s respect there! There’s love! There’s betrayal! It’s so good!!

Cap Hatfield: Aww so a friend of mine turned me onto Nancy/Cap! It really is interesting how this loyal little murder bunny decides to straight up tackle his beloved uncle for whipping her, and I do adore the idea of them getting together in some capacity later. I bet stone butch, maybe virginal, Cap would have a hell of an interesting time following the commands of a woman who absolutely knows what she wants.

Clement Mansell: Oh, Raylan/Clement for sure. Clement has a massive daddy kink and a need to prove himself to male authority figures in his life! Sweety/Clement has some similar potential, as Clement does really respect Sweety and wants to impress him, but ultimately Sweety is just not capable of handling Clement in the way he needs. Clement’s a brat that secretly yearns for someone to be able to just put him on his back and show him his place, and that’s Raylan!

The Corinthian: Oof, this one is so hard. I wanna ship this pansexual icon with all the characters!! Dream(both Morph and Danny)/Corinthian, Gault/Corinthian and Hob/Corinthian all really intrigue me for different reasons, but for some reason I keep gravitating back to Calliope/Corinthian and Rose/Corinthian, cuz I think Corinthian deserves a better god to worship than Dream!! I honestly can’t decide which one I ship more between those, *but* I’ll probably go with Rose/Corinthian just because of the sexy threesome potential if you add in Carl or the Good Doctor. (Rose and GD both topping Corinthian together?? GD sexily teaching baby dom Rose a thing or two??)

Eli Klaber: Oh Klaber/Voller for sure. Klaber is absolutely unhealthily obsessed with his boss, and there’s so much good fucked up potential there, especially how Holbrook describes Klaber as almost being suckered in by Voller offering him unconditional love for the first time in his life.

Ty Shaw: I’m in two camps here. For the sweet stuff, Sancholo/Ty is the way to go. They’re grieving together! They both played up how much they *totes hate each other*, but Sancholo was in on the whole bit with Ty the entire time! Sancholo probably had a puppy crush on Abby’s older brother when they were younger. It’s cute! Now, that’s all well and good, but god, in the fucked-up and dark column, Abby/Ty??? LOOK, the Shaw’s are welcoming and kind, but that family was also dysfunctional as hell. The mom didn’t really seem like she was parenting much - Ty and Abby seemed like they were almost the “mom and dad” of the household, and I love them developing this intense and unhealthy attachment/codependency.

Quinn McKenna: Nebraska!! No question. All those *looks* Nebraska was shooting his way?? Adoring and soft but hungry at the same time?? Nebraska thought he was cute and precious, and I love that Quinn pretty quickly starts getting attached to him, too. That conversation they had by the pool…! But you know, Predator/Quinn is spicy too 😌

[dailydamnation]

They Were Roommates... Eventually

An X-Addendum fanfic (The start of a story five nights long.) (This one is for Tyramir, who once also dedicated an X-fic to me.) (Also posted on AO3.) (Banner art by Chris Sprouse.)

THE FIRST NIGHT

Katherine Anne Pryde had been in advanced classes for as long as she could remember. (Figuratively, because her memory, even of her youngest years, was quite good.) So often in her life when not among grownups, she’d been surrounded by older kids. Even then she was used to being one of the smartest people in the room.

And there was nothing... nothing... that got on her nerves worse than when the older kids—by only one or two years—had treated her like a child.

Among the X-Men, she was once again the youngest, but she’d earned their respect as a teammate and an equal. Mostly. There were a couple of them who she was still working on. And Ororo mothering her didn’t count, no rational being could possibly object to that. The point was, they sometimes forgot how young Kitty still was.

And secretly... secretly one of her favorite things about living at the school in Professor Xavier’s mansion was the fact that nobody here ever thought to wonder if young Kitty Pryde ought to have a bedtime.

That’s how she found herself wandering the dark halls to fetch some soda she probably shouldn’t be having past 2 AM. She wasn’t the only night owl on the team, but perhaps the only one who hung around indoors. Logan was weird. And sometimes a li’l scary, if you innocently asked what he did outside all night. Kitty rubbed her eyes, bleary from staring at her computer screen for what even she admitted was too long. Let the Wolverine roam the grounds all he wanted—she was happy to have these halls all to hers—

“Yaaah!” she shrieked.

A figure had appeared in the doorway to the lounge, silent as... as Logan, but much slimmer.

“Hello, Cat.” The moonlight reflected in blue eyes as the figure stepped forward. “Tch. Kitty. Hello, Kitty.”

“Illyana!” Kitty said calmly and not at all in a shrill and terrified voice. “Still up? Couldn’t sleep?”

“No,” Illyana said without further explanation. She regarded Kitty with equally bleary eyes, staring through her as if looking for someone else.

Her teammate’s sister was not scary in the way that Logan was, but she was... unsettling. That was the best way to put it. And Kitty honestly wasn’t sure if she felt that way because Illyana genuinely did unsettling things, or because she was so different. A week ago, Illyana had been six years old (“almost nearly seven!” if you’d asked her, in Russian because that was the only language she used to speak) and now she and Kitty were of an age, or close enough. Seven years of her life lost to... another dimension, where time moved differently.

“Oh... all right, then.”

Neither of them moved. That definitely counted as unsettling, right? The way Illyana just quietly watched people now, with something like suspicion in her eyes, or... sadness? Longing?

Kitty shook herself and rubbed her eyes. Living with telepaths was giving her ideas—she couldn’t read this girl’s mind. Not even Professor Xavier could, he’d let slip as much. And Kitty wasn’t sure how she felt about him trying that sort of thing without a body knowing, but she couldn’t say it wasn’t warranted. Unsettling.

Then, because it was very late at night, she yawned.

Illyana yawned back. Kitty almost laughed. No matter how stoic or weird the other girl came across, she was human enough not to be able to stop herself from doing that, even if she briefly looked cross with herself for it.

“It’s getting way too late,” Kitty said. “I’m gonna go to bed. You really should too, y’know?” Great, now she was trying to enforce other people’s bedtimes.

From a moment, Illyana looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t, so Kitty turned around and started walking back to her room, holding herself back from glancing over her shoulder.

Halfway there she remembered she’d been on her way to fetch a soda. Eh, that had been a bad idea anyway. She’d get a glass of water from the bathroom and lie awake with her brain buzzing for another two hours anyway, whether she had any soda or not.

That night, though she couldn’t figure out why, she spent most of those two hours wondering whether Illyana had followed her advice and whether she was getting any sleep at all...

(Part two.)

[twinge-of-cosmicangst]

what are your hopes for the final episode?

Gonna go by character I guess

Kendall- Kendall has always been a favourite of mine, I have liked him less this season, that’s not me saying he’s been OC or anything, I just think it’s his natural progression now he hasn’t got the moral of high ground over his father. He is becoming his father, he is the epitome of “the cycle” some people think Shiv is most like Logan, some even think Roman is, but to me it’s Kendall, and always has been, and it’s even more evident this season. When Ewan said that he and Logan had a meagreness about them, but the the difference between them is that Ewan tries to be moral, whereas at some point Logan stopped trying. Meaning that once upon a time Logan was a better man, which I think can be somewhat backed up by Connor the eldest being somewhat softer then the rest, perhaps Logan was not as brutal with him, if somewhat absent because of his obsession with his career (remind you of anyone) and then 15-25 odd years later his youngest son is physically beaten by him. I think when Ewan made that “he stopped trying” statement about Logan, the audience was supposed to think about Kendall. Despite his faults Kendall has shown genuine empathy multiple times throughout first 3 seasons and yet in season 4 he grows more and more cold as he literally tries to become his father. So the natural conclusion to this is that he becomes CEO but he is deeply unhappy and his soul is basically ruined and his whole family inevitably hating him. That would be a sad ending for Kendall fans, but it’s honestly hard to imagine another one for him, other then perhaps suicide, which I think is a possibility. So out of those to options I’d guess I’ll say CEO? I don’t know, the other potential CEO that I think could happen is maybe Tom, which would not great for him in the long run either but ultimately not as thematically tragic.

Roman- I honestly have no idea what Roman’s end game could be, I’m not even sure what I would want for him, that probably has something to do with the fact that he has never been one of my favourites, yet I do feel empathy for his character, Logan abused all his children, yet Roman was the only one he physically abused, to be singled out like that must be traumatising. I think he is slightly more likely to get a somewhat happier ending then Kendall (idk why I just feel it in my waters) and yeah he’s not my favourite but I don’t hate him, so I’ll be fine with him getting a neutral ending, perhaps working at Waystar (not CEO) and befriending Gerri once again?

Shiv: I am 99% sure that Shiv will not be CEO “American” or otherwise, I think pretty much all the other mains (aside from Connor) have more of a chance becoming CEO. This is not because I’m secretly a internal misogynist, neither do I think she will not become CEO because of her “Lack of experience” No the reason I think she has no chance is because of how the last episode ended Lucas telling her he can make the “American CEO work” was basically a neon sign saying “Matsson may be able to get an American CEO to work but it sure as fuck won’t be Shiv” that’s just how narrative convention works. Matsson is shady as fuck and it’s been kind of obvious that he’s been playing Shiv the whole time, she is aware of this and she has been playing him too, but she is only aware to an extent because when her mind is so close to the prize, I think she gets a little carried away. It fluctuates but at the moment Shiv is my second favourite character, and what I want for her professionally is what I’ve wanted for her since I watched season 2 and that’s to go back into politics. Connor has always been a bit of a scrounger (I love him though) and Ken and Roman of course have always been in the family business. Shiv was the only one to make a career for herself (yes she had a huge amount of privilege to help her build that career) but still she had a career that was hers not her fathers, not only that but she was a democrat, while her father has a hugely intimidating and influential presence in the conservative landscape, I never see anyone talk about how brave that was (even if it was somewhat to spite him lol) and yet after years of apparent resistance Logan managed to reel her back in, and we saw she was as desperate for his approval as her brothers were. The scene where Logan persuaded her to take her picture with Menken is one of the most devastating in the show imo, she was so reluctant but she did so for a promise of Waystar and Logan’s approval. She clearly had some passion for working in politics and she appeared to enjoy her job. This hope for her is fruitless though because it is the last episode of the last season so in terms of profession, my hope for Shiv would be that she ends up at Pierce, or perhaps goes into business with Roman (could they maybe work better together without Kendall, maybe it would be a disaster idk) I think there is more of a chance that Shiv gets out then there is for her brothers (she actually knows there is life outside of Waystar from 10+ years of a different career) also as she is my favourite of the siblings she is the one I want to escape the most, as I think working at Waystar (living in the haunted house) will end in misery for any of the siblings and I do want Shiv to be somewhat happy. In terms of personal I want Tom and Shiv to officially end it (although I think that’s unlikely this point) I’m not even talking from a Tomgreg perspective, Tom and Shiv clearly make each other miserable (I do believe they do love each other though) and I know them being miserable together is part of the appeal for a lot of people (hand in unloveable hand and all) but I would personally like them to put themselves out of their misery for good (honestly it would be better for their child as well) Speaking of the baby, I do not want to speak of it much because it is basically pointless as a plotline as we’ll never actually get to see the thing (unless they flash forward Harry Potter style “Logan Roman Nate Wambsgans you were named after the biggest sicko I’ve ever known”) I am not someone who was dead set against Shiv getting pregnant (in fact I thought it was a real possibility with some of the hints we got in season 3) but upon finding out that Jesse added it in last minute, it only makes me think the whole plotline is rushed and pointless and if the whole point of it is to bring Tom and Shiv back together, then dear god 🙄

Connor and Willa- These two’s married life seems to be going well (Yay I love Conwilla) and I think it is highly unlikely that they will randomly implode in the last episode, if they do, Jesse, I will Annie Wilkes your ass (For legal reasons this is a joke) but as the last episode is going to be very Waystar centric, Conwilla will probably be minimal, my main hope for them in the final is they get more screen time then I expect and that I am presently surprised, and that they are happy. Career wise it would be nice to hear how Willa’s playwriting is going, and I honestly don’t have a preference whether Connor is going to remain in politics or go back to “ranching” whatever tickles his pickle. What I would like for Connor though is a little, just smidge of affection from the sibs. GIVE US A SIBLING HUG WITH ALL 4 SIBLINGS YOU COWARDS! I know that the sibs care for Connor in their own way, but he doesn’t (he literally said no one loves him and none of them bothered correct him) Not to bring up the Tomshiv babby again but I can’t believe Matsson heard about it before brodad 🤮 the injustice. Please let at least one of the sibs have sweet moment with him. Please 🙏

Tom and Greg- Saving the best till last baby! I do genuinely want the gay art gallery date (real ones know) it is possible if somewhat unlikely. Other then that I do not expect Tomgreg to go canon but I would like them to have a decent amount of screen time (like proportionally the same as episode 8 which would be more screen time then episode 8 because episode 10 is 1/3 longer then episode 8, if I’m making sense) dream would be to have proportionally the same amount of screen time as episode 1 but that is unrealistic (episode 1 felt about 40% lmao). I would obviously like them to end on good terms, and I want them to be working together! I think Tom is a genuine possibility for “American CEO” he has experience, and Lukas may just do it to fuck with the Roy siblings. Matsson seems to genuinely like Greg but even he wouldn’t make someone like Greg CEO, under qualified is an understatement, the markets would freak, but maybe he would settle for Tom instead, maybe Greg persuades Matsson to name Tom (that would be the dream) I do think being CEO of Waystar inevitably leads to misery for anyone who becomes it (to quote Gerri “the job that makes your brain explode”) but like I said it’s not as tragic with Tom, because he won’t have the corpse of his abusive dead father breathing down his neck. Ultimately I would like Tom and Greg to be somewhat ok and working together and remain besties, wouldn’t mind Tom becoming CEO but idrc. If I’m being realistic I think Tom could end things in a really bad place unemployed? Publicly shamed? Getting arrested for cruises?? Lmao the last one is unlikely but not impossible, but I don’t want any of those things to happen, because he’s my favourite character and I don’t want him to be completely miserable, but I can deal with somewhat miserable, he kind of deserves it. With Greg I think he is the most likely out of the main characters to end up in a good place career wise (although again not CEO lmao) but it means nothing to me if he is in a good place career wise but estranged from Tom, so yeah Tomgreg to remain besties is really what I want for them the most (cheesy I know) a little bit of homoeroticism wouldn’t hurt either but I refuse to get my hopes up.

It just occurred to me while writing this that I said I wouldn’t mind if Tom became CEO but that I also said if Kendall doesn’t become CEO he’ll die! That is perhaps a bit extreme. But what I’m saying is that I think that out of all the characters Kendall is the most doomed by the narrative and will have a tragic ending no matter what, and hoping that he doesn’t his somewhat pointless, the only good thing that I can bring myself to hope for Kendall, is that his relationship with his siblings isn’t completely destroyed by the end of the series and that they are still on speaking terms.

[succession-thoughts]

My thought is that Gerri really just sees it all as part of the game. It’s not that she doesn’t genuinely care for Roman, I think she does. She likes spending time with him, she enjoys working with him, she thinks he’s under-appreciated and smarter than people give him credit for, and she’s honestly loved their working partnership. I think she also secretly enjoyed the sexual aspect of their relationship, thought that’s something that could get messy and was definitely not worth it for her to continue. She’ll build Roman up whenever the opportunity presents itself, not just because it would benefit her, but because she likes him and gets pleasure from seeing him succeed. BUT, when Roman asks if she can help them stop the sale, she almost seems surprised that he would even ask. She’s thinking “I’ve genuinely enjoyed our time together when it made sense to work together, but clearly things have changed, the entire structure and nature of the company has changed without my knowledge, what would make you think I would help you now?” For her, it’s not that she thinks she’s betraying him; from what we’ve seen of her in the finale, if it were up to her she wouldn’t be selling the company (though I couldn’t say for sure), but it seems as though that decision was largely made before Logan brought her down. She has to work with what she’s given, and if that means she’s not going to be working closely with Roman anymore, that makes her sad, but it is what it is. She thought Roman understood that, that it was always implied; not that she would throw him under the bus at the slightest provocation, but just that the relationship was based on being mutually beneficial. You could even go as far to say that “how does it serve my interests?” is a genuine question to Roman. “Why do you look so shocked and sad by this? Do you have a pitch as to why I should help you? I respect you and I’m listening”, only to find out that, again, all that he had in his hand was love. 

[mychemicallyimbalancedromantic]

Dim The Sun And Wonder Where We've Been

Chapter 1

Word count: 845 Rating: Teen Pairing: Logicality, past/hinted Prinxiety Warnings: Panic attacks, smoking Title from I Caught Fire by The Used

Read it on AO3

Pushing his laptop aside, Virgil picked up his phone to respond to the notification that buzzed there. He wasn’t interrupting anything productive, just anxiously refreshing his emails. It had been a week since he’d sent his CV to a bookstore just outside of town, and he should have a response already. It wasn’t exactly his dream job, but he needed something to pay rent while he tried to get into the competitive world of writing.

Drawing himself from the beginnings of his defeatist spiral, Virgil checked his phone. The notification was a text from the guy he was supposed to be seeing that night. Typical anxiety built up in his chest- and rightly so. nate: Heyy, looks like I can’t make it tonight :(. Another time maybe? x Virgil sighed. Nate had cancelled on him twice already, and it didn’t look like they would meet up. Still, he didn’t have the courage to say so. Virgil: another time then x

A familiar voice pulled Virgil from his self-deprecating cycle, coming through the door and ringing through the flat. “Hey, kiddo!” his flatmate and best friend, Patton, called. “Hey,” Virgil replied, dropping his phone and trying to wring the disappointment out of his voice. Virgil joined Patton in the kitchen, perching on the counter and watching him make a coffee and a hot chocolate.

“Did you hear from Nate today?” Patton asked Virgil while they waited for the kettle to boil. Recalling even the optimistic Patton’s scepticism that Nate would follow through, Virgil fiddled with his frayed cuffs. “Yeah, he, uh, couldn’t make it,” he muttered, busying himself with spooning sugar into his coffee. “Oh,” Patton said, trying to cover his lack of surprise. Virgil appreciated the effort.

“Do you have any other plans, then?” Patton asked delicately, picking up his hot chocolate and taking a sip. “Obviously not,” Virgil replied with a self-deprecating laugh. A look of concern passed over Patton’s freckled face. “I don’t think you should be alone in the flat tonight. Maybe Logan and I should stay home-” Guilt seeped into Virgil’s voice when he cut Patton off. “No, you’ve had those tickets for like weeks, Pat. I’ll be fine.”

Not looking convinced by the last statement, Patton tilted his head. “Well, why don’t you come with us? Logan’s got a spare ticket from a work friend. It might be fun!” Virgil shook his head before Patton was done. “I can’t crash your date night. I’m not going to be that pathetic.” Like every time Virgil said something self-deprecating, Patton looked lovingly offended. “It wouldn’t be pathetic! I just don’t think you’ll be alone tonight. I’ll ask Logan- I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Won’t mind what? Hello, dear,” Logan greeted as he stepped into the entryway. He hung up his coat and messenger bag, heading into the kitchen and kissing Patton on the cheek. “Hi, love. Look, Nate cancelled on Virgil again.” Apologetic, if slightly awkward, Logan patted Virgil’s hand. “And I was saying, maybe he shouldn’t be alone tonight?” “Of course he shouldn’t,” Logan agreed, brow furrowed in concern. Patton widened his blue eyes at Logan in that way he could never resist. “Would you mind if he came to the theatre with us tonight?”

Considering, Logan glanced over at Virgil. “Well, if you both are alright with it, I do not mind.” Patton smiled, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend’s waist. “Virgil, we will be ready to go in half an hour.”

About an hour later, Virgil was in Patton’s messy car, headphones blasting My Chemical Romance over his loudly anxious thoughts. They stopped outside the theatre, a small brick building. Though it hadn’t been his original plan, Virgil wasn’t too upset with how his evening was turning. He liked spending time with Patton and Logan. It wasn’t very on brand, but he didn’t even mind the play, Romeo and Juliet, secretly being pretty romantic.

Honestly, Virgil was zoned out for the first section of the play. The actors were pretty good for community theatre, but it just wasn’t enough of a distraction to pull him out of his head. Until something struck him about the lead actor.

The lighting was too contrasting to give Virgil a good look at the actor’s face to see if he knew him. Patton, curled against Logan on his other side, didn’t appear to notice anything, but Virgil could have sworn he knew the man playing Romeo onstage. Just as Romeo stepped into the light, Virgil looked in his discarded programme to see if he could recognise the name. The name on the paper and the brightly lit face onstage hit Virgil like a punch to the face. Roman Prince.

Suddenly feeling the need to escape, Virgil stood up and bolted, trying even through his anxious tunnel vision not to disrupt Patton or Logan. He left the auditorium, flicking his dark eyes over the corridor to find the first non-alarmed door leading outside. He darted through the door, finding himself in the smoking area, wishing Patton didn’t urge him to leave his cigarettes at home.

[stillebesat]

Demon Comfort (3/3)

DECEMBER DRABBLES DAY 14  Sanders Sides: Logan, Virgil Blurb: Lurking under a Human’s bed should be downright dull for a Demon of Logan’s rank. And yet…he can’t help but be intrigued by his human charge. Fic Type: Demon!AU, Demon!Logan Overall Fic Warnings: Near Death Experiences, Freezing, Burning, Hazing Talk, Manipulation Taglist in reblog. To Catch Up: Part 1  Part 2 

He’d been staring at the pages of the book Virgil had brought for him for hours now, not taking in a single word written there. 

How could he when his charge was late. 

Logan tsked, tail tapping a staccato against the bed frame as he flipped the book shut, turning his head to glare at the door, doing his best to ignore the twisting in his chest the--the worry that he was feeling.  

Virgil could take care of himself. He knew that.

But after having to rescue his charge twice from life or death situations. It was...stressful, far more stressful than it should ever be, to wait for him to come back home from class. Especially since it was easily becoming clear that despite his craving for a fresh start, despite the fact that Logan had gone out and handily taken care of the six people responsible for nearly cooking his human in the boiler room, that Virgil still was not happy here.

Logan paused, tilting his head as he felt the first threads of the familiar thundercloud approaching. Finally. He relaxed when the bedroom door swung open, a black and purple backpack dropping to the floor a second later with a muted thud.

If it weren’t for the fact that he was trying to stick to the very last shreds of the rules of conduct between demon and human where he wouldn’t reveal himself unless Virgil called for him, Logan would have been out from under the bed in a flash demanding to know where in the world his charge had been and why he was only getting home now when Logan knew the boy had finished classes before lunch and had a mountain of unfinished final term papers to complete and--

Virgil dropped to his knees next to the bed, a purple blanket pooling at his feet. “Scoot over.” He said, not giving Logan a chance to react before shoving his way under the bed.

“Wha--WHY?!” He choked out in surprise. This wasn’t---Virgil had never indicated an interest in visiting him under here before. 

Yet as soon as he caught sight of his tear streaked face, Logan found himself automatically lifting one wing and shifting his position to hold out an arm so he could slip underneath, a hot spike of anger rising in his chest. Virgil didn’t cry. He didn’t--What had happened to his dark and broody charge?

Virgil didn’t hesitate, ducking under both wing and arm to curl up into his chest, his soft hair tickling Logan’s chin as the boy choked back a sob, clinging to him. “Ju--just hold me for a minute, okay?” He whispered.

Logan lowered his wing, easily hiding him from view as he tightened his grip around him, holding Virgil close as he ran gentle claws through his hair. “Of course.” He said, careful to keep his voice from echoing. 

He frowned up at the pitch black cloud that hung like an anvil over Virgil’s head, catching only glimpses of the past four hours of torture his charge had been through. Glimpses because Virgil’s thoughts were being slippery, his human not wanting him to know exactly what had gone wrong. Annoying that. He shouldn’t have admitted to being able to see and influence the boy’s thoughts. “You’re safe here.” He whispered, fighting the fury rising within him as Virgil broke down, hot tears dripping onto his chest. 

“I-I know. I ju-just--” He shuddered. “I hate this place.” 

Logan blinked. Huh? How was that--just this morning his charge had once again shrugged off the light meddling that he’d done to the tangle of thoughts over his head to try and convince him to leave! Yet Virgil had been firm in stating that he was fine here. 

Obviously he wasn’t doing so fine if he hated being here. 

Logan ran his claws through Virgil’s hair, observing those twisting thoughts with no intention of meddling at the moment. 

No, he was seeking to understand why the sudden change of heart when nothing he had suggested had worked. “We both do. Why do you think I’ve been trying to convince you to leave?” The cold for one was getting tiresome. Spring should be bringing warmer temperatures and yet up here in the north it hardly felt like they’d come out of winter at all.

“I just--” The dark cloud over his head seemed to grow darker. “I just...wanted it to change you know? How can I be a thousand miles away from my old life, and yet everyone here still treats me like I’m the scum of the earth? I just--I just...wish someone here besides you would like me. You know? Where I could just--relax and not constantly be worrying if I’m secretly hated and they’re gonna try and--and--”

“Lock you in the janitor’s closet?” Logan asked, his chest rumbling with a suppressed growl as he finally found the thread leading to the event that Virgil had been trying to hide from him.

Even with him drastically reducing his meddling with Virgil’s thoughts, it seemed like his charge really couldn’t catch a break here. Especially if this--this freshman hazing kept up. Even if Virgil kept insisting that it was nothing and that his...peers’…antics should stay unreported to the police--not that that hadn’t stopped Logan from going off and enacting his own little revenge on the people that had threatened his human’s life--it would only be a matter of time before he would need to guard his charge twenty-four seven to keep him safe. To keep him alive. 

That was no way for a human to live. A demon’s guardianship was hardly a good guardianship after all.

Virgil gave a bitter laugh, thoughts swirling, giving Logan glimpses of the faces of the new people torturing his charge. 

It was a bittersweet realization that. Sure he was proud his ability to terrorize others hadn’t been dulled with this...softening towards this one particular human, but if getting rid of the one batch of rotten eggs only encouraged another group to take up the calling to make Virgil’s life miserable---

“They took my backpack this time.” He whispered, resting his head against Logan’s chest. “I had to MacGyver a way to melt the hinges off the door with chemicals from the closet before I could escape. Then it took me another hour to track down where they’d thrown my bag--at least I found it.” 

Was that supposed to be reassuring? That this time, he’d managed to get free by himself? If it was...it didn’t make Logan feel any better. Not when it left his charge in tears. 

Not when it left him wondering what would have happened if Virgil hadn’t managed to MacGyver-whatever that meant- his way out of his predicament. Just how long would it have been before Logan would have realized he wasn’t coming back? That he needed help? It just--that ache that--that worry in his chest only grew stronger at the thought. 

Honestly, he didn’t understand most human devices, but if he needed to obtain a freaking cell phone and enchant it so that Virgil would always be able to contact him he would. The hassle would be worth it if it meant his charge would remain safe. That at the first sign of trouble Virgil could call for help and immediately receive it.

Better than leaving him wondering if Logan would find him in time. If he’d--- He exhaled. “I know it won’t mean much coming from me.” He whispered, committing to memory the faces of the people he needed to go take care of next, all too aware of how much he, himself, had contributed to his charge’s woes while here. “But you don’t deserve this.”

Virgil let out a shaky breath, the dark cloud swirling over his head shifting to a lighter grey as he looked up meeting Logan’s slitted eyes. “I want to make a deal.” 

He blinked, ignoring how his hearts leapt at the words every demon craved to hear at the unexpected phrase. “No you don’t.” 

Virgil set his jaw, eyes unwavering. “I do.”

Logan frowned, fighting the desire to break eye contact to see what the twisting threads of thought were leading to. To find out why Virgil was requesting this now. No, it was best to hear it straight from the human himself. 

He let out a slow breath. Knowing his charge, his reasoning would be convoluted and yet still make perfect sense. “I’m willing to hear you out, but I do not agree to agree to anything beyond that. You’ve already dealt with enough trouble in your life without adding a demonic deal to it.” 

Virgil gave a wobbly smirk, hardly fazed as he tapped Logan’s chest with a single finger. “Your side.” He said. “You want me to move elsewhere. Want me to go to a different school. Someplace warmer. Safer.” 

Logan gave a slow nod. “Yes?” Though wasn’t this deal supposed to be about what the human wanted to get instead of the demon?  

“Then I’ll agree to moving. Even let you pick the school and the place I’ll stay at IF.” He stressed the word again tapping Logan’s chest. “You agree to three things first.” 

Three things in exchange for one of safety? Typical human. He narrowed his eyes, tail tapping against the floorboards. “And those are?” 

“One. You stop hiding under my bed like an overgrown dust bunny. Two. You become my roommate and go to the school you’ve chosen with me--don’t give me that look.” 

Logan growled, tail dancing back and forth against the wall. He would give out all the looks he wanted thank you very much. Because that was---okay being out from under the bed would be wonderful but be a roommate?! “I can’t replace your need for human interaction and companionship, Virgil.”

Sure, it did make a nice loophole that his superiors couldn’t argue against because the human had requested his near-constant presence in this deal. But it couldn’t work. Demons and Humans weren’t meant to be roommates. It was hardly a healthy relationship when Logan had the ability to manipulate Virgil’s thoughts! Plus! Figuring out an adequate human disguise to uphold all hours of the day in order to go to school would be a nightmare and a half with the rituals and the charm work involved to hide his demonic looks.  

“Three.” Virgil continued, ignoring Logan’s outburst, the cloud above his head shifting closer to white as he grew more fond of how this deal was turning out. “You pick out our other roommate or roommates. Ones who know you are a demon so you won’t have to disguise yourself when you’re home.”  

That was---huh. So he’d only have to look human while in public? Logan tsked, claws carefully brushing Virgil’s tear streaked cheeks, his wings quivering with the urge to agree to this--this foolhardiness as his mind raced to find any downsides for his end of this deal. For any loopholes to exploit despite him not wanting to do anything of the sort to Virgil. Not when his charge was finally finally willing to move away from this awful place.

Except there was one problem. The humans.

“Most humans who willingly interact with demons are not the sort of individuals I would trust to room with you.” He said, shaking his head. His goal was to keep Virgil safe. Not set him up for further attempts on his life.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, eyes glinting. “I specifically said those who know you are a demon, Lo. That doesn’t have to mean they’ve interacted with others.” 

Clever. “But I don’t interact with other humans!” If he hadn’t broken the rules, Virgil would never be having this conversation with him in the first place because he wouldn’t know Logan existed. “Demons don’t interact with humans unless they are summoned. How am I--!”

“I never summoned you though. And yet here we are.” 

Logan had to look away at that. Avoid staring at the positively smug face his charge was giving him. “That’s different.” He finally muttered. Most demons didn’t care what happened to the humans they dealt with. Logan was an outlier in that sense. Sent to lurk under a bed as punishment and instead found that he liked it even if Virgil’s stubborn nature drove him up the wall most of the time. 

“Different because you were hiding under my bed for who knows how long?” 

He grimaced. It hadn’t even been a year yet. Not that long at all in human terms. “In a way.” 

He flinched as Virgil placed a palm against his cheek, turning his head back to face him. “You were the monster under my bed until you decided I needed a Guardian instead.” He said softly. “Why can’t you go find another human whose needs are similar to mine? Find someone we both can get along with. And once you do, I’ll move wherever you want me to for school. Those are my terms.” 

Logan hardly cared if another human liked him. He was a demon. Humans were supposed to fear his kind. But Virgil? His human needed a good roommate. One that would want to be around him, unlike Virgil’s current set that barely acknowledged his existence unless it was his turn to take out the trash. However, if he was out hunting for this good roommate…that would mean--

“I can hardly be considered a Guardian if you’re left defenseless while I’m off searching who knows where for who knows how long for this hypothetical person!” Logan retorted. “You would have to allow me to establish a means to ensure you’re safe while I am gone or that you could summon me if you find yourself in danger before I would even consider--” 

“What sort of thing?” 

Logan frowned. Was the stress of three near death attempts addling his charge’s mind? Perhaps the air underneath the bed was’t flowing properly--he shifted, teleporting them both onto Virgil’s bed where he could have this conversation in a more proper format. After all, humans didn’t usually make deals under their beds. Though it probably was too much to expect his charge to draw a sigil on the floor. Not if he wanted his deposit back. 

He kept a wing securely around Virgil as the human adjusted his position to rest more comfortably against him, a move that should be more counter-intuitive despite Logan’s proclamations of keeping him safe. There was too much trust here. Virgil had hardly done more than sharply inhale at them suddenly appearing on top of his bed.

“So?” He asked once he was comfortable, fingers brushing against the inside of Logan’s wing. “What sort of thing were you thinking?” 

Logan shrugged a shoulder, trying to not focus on how relaxed Virgil was with him. “...I was considering a cell phone.” 

The laugh his charge let out shouldn’t make his hearts flutter so.

Virgil grinned, shaking his head, the storm cloud above him glittering brightly despite it’s shifting state. “That’s so...human, Lo. But what if it dies? What if I get mine taken away? They’re hardly reliable despite how much I use mine. Isn’t there a sort of…” He waved a hand around. “Sigil or spell or mark? Something that you can place on me?” 

Yes. But--

Before he could speak his charge ducked out from under his wing, grabbing at his backpack on the floor and digging into it. “I could draw something on me.” He offered, pulling out a pen. “And then you enchant it or whatever to--are you okay?”

That was---ha. Logan swallowed, wings shifting back as he looked his human in the eyes. “That is...it’s not a light commitment to make, Virgil.” He finally answered. “You shouldn’t allow any demon, let alone me--” Despite how much he desperately wanted it. It would be so much easier to ensure he could protect Virgil than using a cell phone. “--to mark you so. I doubt you want a permanent connection to me and a sigil once placed on living flesh cannot easily be removed.” 

Virgil tapped his pen against his lips, tilting his head as he silently studied Logan. 

His tail twisted at the scrutiny. “It’s too much of a risk.” He repeated, holding his hands palm up. “You have no guarantee that I will remain a...Guardian to you.” Though at this point he couldn’t see him being anything else. “I am a Demon. It’s not in our nature to--”

He cut off as Virgil reached out, resting his hands in Logan’s clawed ones, gently squeezing them. “Lo.” 

His hearts skipped a beat at the nickname. Gah. If Virgil ever figured out how being called Lo truly affected him, far more than any deal would, he would be completely done for--he flinched, inhaling sharply as a purplish glow appeared, covering both of their hands as his charge gave a small smirk. 

“You’ve saved my life twice now.” He said softly, leaning forward, unfazed by the glow. 

Though of course Virgil would have no idea that this wasn’t normal, not when Logan hadn’t done anything! 

“That’s hardly a demon’s nature now is it? To save someone? Someone who made no deal to gain such protection?” 

….No. It wasn’t normal. He knew that. He-- Logan made a sound in his throat as the purplish glow shifted between them winding like a ribbon around their wrists. He eyed it warily, it was a sign, despite the fact that the glowing ribbon should be red instead of purple, that a deal was being struck though Logan had made no active attempt to initiate one. Hadn’t wanted--

“You’re no ordinary demon, Lo.” 

No...he wasn’t much like the others was he? Interacting with humans...a human...with Virgil willingly without being compelled to. To want to protect his charge, seeking to help him instead of...well...continuing to make him suffer. 

“If you don’t want the mark on me to be permanent then make it temporary.” Virgil said, maintaining eye contact. “Make it last as long as you need it to. But I know you know you want to know I’m okay. Is this not a good way to go about it?”  

His breath caught in his throat. There was too much trust in him here. Far too much. Virgil didn’t know what he was getting into. He couldn’t--it wasn’t safe. “I don’t--” Logan swallowed, fingers trembling in Virgil’s hands as the ribbon pulsed around them. “A demonic deal is never safe.” He couldn’t risk his charge like this. Something would go wrong. It wasn’t worth it. “I don’t want to make this type of deal. Any deal with you.” He whispered, wings fluttering with heat as he broke eye contact, bowing his head to his charge. 

“Lo?” Virgil adjusted his grip, squeezing his hands.  

He shuddered, eyes burning despite his inability to shed tears, his hearts pounding like the drums of war as he clung to those hands, careful always careful so that his claws wouldn’t pierce his delicate flesh, wouldn’t draw blood to seal whatever deal this purple ribbon was trying to instigate. He couldn’t hurt him. 

“It’s not proper.” He said softly. “A demon shouldn’t care about this. A demon would just say yes. But I can’t. Because I do. I care. I just want you safe, Virgil. Protected. Happy. A deal won’t-- I can’t---a demon can’t--” 

“Perhaps.” Virgil tilted his head, peering up into Logan’s slitted eyes. “You should stop thinking of yourself as a demon then.”

He blinked, wings drawing back as the purple ribbon pulsed. “What?” But that--that’s what he was. Sure, he wasn’t acting like one currently, but no one would look at him and think he was anything else.

“Well...you’ve already said it yourself, haven’t you? Starting back when I nearly froze to death. What you really are.” 

He’d said a lot of--Wait. Logan looked up, barely able to breathe from how tight his chest felt. “You...remember that time?” 

Virgil shook his head. “Not all of it. But I do remember one thing, Lo.” He grinned, eyes glittering as the purple ribbon flashed a brilliant indigo, the bright warm light washing over Logan before he could blink.  

“You’re a Guardian. My Guardian.” End.

[sidespromptblog]

What to Do?: Chapter 8

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Nine, Ten

Warnings: Patton Angst, and food mention. 

Summary: Logan realizing that his first mistake was seeing the other sides as anything other than coworkers. They weren't a family. They didn't even like each other. How had he not realized sooner?

Word Count: 1,657

Patton sat hunched on the floor in front of the oven, watching as the cookies he was baking slowly rose as they were cooked right before his eyes. Behind him another bowl of cookie batter sat, waiting for the very same thing. And in the fridge there were already cookies cooling down, and still his fingers itched to do something.. anything really that would help keep his mind away from what had made it most sad to begin with.  He didn’t want to think about this, any of it really. He just wanted to stay focused on the things that made him happy, and the things that made the others happy too. 

If Logan saw him like this he’s-

No. 

Patton stubbornly shook his head, as his heart plummeted at the thought of Logan and just what Logan would think if he saw him like this… if he saw him pushing down his negative emotions in favor of the good ones. They had already talked about this, they had already come to the conclusion that Patton still didn’t want to face even right now. It was better this way, he had told himself. Someone had to be happy around here, even if he was just pretending. He’d cried enough for all of them, and now it was time to get over that and move onto being happy again. It was better than seeing Roman slowly sink into self-despair like he had been when he had accepted Janus, and it was better than seeing Virgil slowly grow more and more anxious over time with no way to stop it. He had to do this, for all of them. 

Even if Logan…

Patton felt his eyes mist over in a second, before he stubbornly rubbed his sleeve over his eyes. 

“I’m fine,” He listlessly muttered to himself, keeping his eyes firmly fixed onto the cookies. “I’m fine…” 

“Tsk.” 

Patton flinched with his whole body, as his head snapped around in an instant to look at the side who was standing there at the entrance of the kitchen. His mouth twisted into a tiny half smile, that he honestly didn’t even feel like giving. But be that as it may, it still felt just the slightest bit nice to see the side in front of him, like he wasn’t totally alone and surrounded by sad people who had no idea what to do.

Janus smiled down at Patton, the kind of smile that made the scales on the side of his face shimmer in the warm lighting of the kitchen. “I thought lying was my thing,” The dishonest side began, as he crouched down to Patton’s level, so that he could look at him just a little bit closer. “Right?” He asked, reaching forward slowly to dust a chunk of flower from Patton’s cheek. 

The soft scrap of the glove against his cheek made Patton sigh for a short second, it had been too long since he’d had any kind of bodily contact. There had been no hugs, no hand holding, and no… late night movie sessions where they all piled on top of one another. So just this tiny hint of contact made him want to melt into Janus, and never let the other side leave.

“Yeah.. yeah it usually is.” He finally whispered, sadness clinging to every pore of his body. “But right now I think it’s necessary…” 

I need it… 

The words were left unspoken, and yet Janus heard it all the same as he seated himself more comfortably on the cold floor. The oven let off a wave of warmth that he was secretly very thankful for, and with little opposition Janus lifted the edge of his caplet letting it drape over Patton’s shoulders as well. For a moment he could only watch as the moral side sank gratefully into it, his eyes closing as his cheek squished against Janus’ shoulder. Janus didn’t say it, but… 

Patton looked exhausted. 

To the point where he was sure that the other side would all too easily fall asleep right here if Janus didn’t move or say anything, and god knew he was not the most comfortable person to fall asleep on. But despite how the words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue, Janus didn’t say a word, instead choosing to wrap his arm around Patton letting the other side use his lap as a pillow as he sprawled himself out on the floor. Shrugging off his caplet, and with the warmth of the oven on his back it was all too easy for him to cover the moral side with it, letting him have this one solitary comfort.  

If only for a little while, at least. 

“Janus?” Patton asked softly, startling the other side from his almost nap that he had been nodding off into. “Do you think Logan is lying to himself? When.. when he’s acting this way?” 

For a moment Janus was stumped on just how to answer the moral side, he knew that perhaps it would make Patton feel better if he lied to him, but for how long? If he thought that this whole thing was temporary then.. then all he would be doing was giving him empty hope that perhaps things would end up changing. That would be more hurtful in the long run, and… and Patton would eventually find out that he had lied, and would be hurt even more by Janus’ own actions. He wouldn’t trust him if he lied about this, because he cared about Logan, even if Logan was trying to act like he didn’t care about them. 

He sighed, and felt Patton’s head twitch on his lap. “I think…” He slowly began, trying to phrase it right, “That Logan truly believes that this is the best path for him, so he’s determined to see it through. But… he’s also certain that should it come down to it, none of you would listen to him if he stopped. He thinks in a certain way that..  that you all hate him.”

Patton moved to jerk his entire body up, a denial on his lips. Just to stop as soon as Janus gently guided him back down. 

“I’m not done,” The dishonest side said firmly but gently, “He still cares about all of you I think, but he’s not going to give himself the chance to ever come back. He’s burning down as many bridges as he can, and as quickly as he can before he changes his mind and wants to repair things with all of you.” Janus can feel another sigh building up inside of him. “But I also think that all of you are in denial as well…” At Patton’s curious and worried look Janus slowly went on, trying to be as gentle as possible about it. “About how you’ve all treated him, and I think that you’re all lying to yourselves about the part that you’ve played in this coming to be.” 

Patton is quick to open his mouth to disagree, he wants to disagree with almost everything that Janus has said about them doing anything to bring this on. As far as he was aware he had always treated Logan the best that he possibly could, and while it was true that he had floundered sometimes and gotten lost in himself… he’d done his best. 

Hadn’t he? 

Looking at the family pictures he could see hanging on the walls from where he was sitting, his stomach plummeted in an instant as guilt quickly replaced the sadness he had been feeling mere moments ago. Logan was there in each and everyone of the photos, but he was in the back, where Roman, Virgil, and even Patton had taken up most of the frame. It had left Logan looking almost out of place in the pictures, as if.. As if he didn’t belong there with any of them. Looking at those pictures now, where he had once felt nothing but happiness and pride towards his family, he now felt as if he had failed Logan in every single one of them in every single kind of way that a friend shouldn’t have. 

After everything that had happened… 

They had been anything but a family to Logan, and Logan deserved to distance himself from that kind of “love”. 

Because he deserves better than that. 

“Janus?” Patton asked for a moment, looking over to the side in question to see that he was fully paying attention to Patton. “What should we do?” 

That was the kicker wasn’t it? 

What should they do? 

It was clear that Logan was going to be resilient against any of their advances to fix things, as the logical side was determined to think that things would go back to the way they were before if he slipped up even once. And he was only going to double down too, if they did get him to slip up and treat them as they had been in the past, which would only draw things out for longer and make things harder on themselves. So there was very little that they actually could do to actually fix things, surprisingly Logan had made it so that the entire ball game was in his court and they couldn't make a single move to change the tides.   

He would make an excellent chess player, Janus fondly thought to himself. 

“Slowly,” He finally summarized, as the plan mapped itself out in his head. “So slowly that it feels like nothing is changing, you have to play Logan’s game if you want him to even entertain yours. If you want things to go back to normal, this has to be the new normal for a while. Let him slip up, and let him try to come back, and when that happens…” Janus smiled a little, as he looped his arm around Patton. 

“You’ll have Logan, and not Logic.”

[heyitssmiller]

How funny! I was just thinking about it too........pt 3 🍰✨ [characters belong to @lumosinlove]

Leo had Bad Suns blasting from his phone as he frosted the latest cupcakes - a Devil's food cake batch he was making for an engagement party. He bopped his head to the tune with a smile as the sound filled the small space. The kitchen window was open to let in a breeze, and he could hear Marlene’s motorcycle pull up.

She came in from the back door, placing her helmet upside down on the equipment shelves. “Your music’s too loud.”

“You call me poison but you won’t stop comin’ around,” he sang to her, grabbing her arm and twirling her haphazardly.

“You’re singing off-key!” She laughed.

“No, you won’t stop comin’ arounddddd,” he ignored her, dipping her backward in his arms. Marlene rolled her eyes with a grin, clinging tight to him so she wouldn’t fall over.

He spun her once more for good measure before swiftly loading the cupcakes into a box and tying it up with yellow twine. “Remember to secure it,” he warned.

“Have I ever had an order fall off my bike?”

“Ah, let’s see. Sunday, November second-”

“That should not count. It was my first week, it was years ago, and spice cakes are inherently accident-prone.”

“Oh, are you gonna make me up a statistic?” Leo leaned back on the counter with his arms crossed, raising a playful eyebrow.

Marlene socked him in the shoulder. “I’ll secure this one, don’t worry.” She glanced at the time on her phone and turned off his music. “Now, I’ve got seven minutes before I really need to get going. Why don’t you tell me who it is you’re crushing on?”

“What?” Leo blurted, caught off guard by her question.

“Come on, Frank told me you were all blush when he came in for his shift Saturday afternoon, but you’d left before I came back to see for myself.”

“I-”

“Don’t lie to me, Leo Knut,” Marlene stuck a finger in his face.

He sighed, defeated, and told her an abridged version of what went down at the bakery on his solo shift. Marlene chewed her lip thoughtfully before pulling out her phone.

“What’re you doing?”

“Looking these guys up. They’re hockey players, right?”

He nodded as she typed ‘Gryffindor Lions’ into the search bar. Her eyes scanned the player’s photos before lighting up. “Here we go, Finn O’Hara and Logan Tremblay, right wingers.”

He leaned closer to get a better look.

Finn was smiling wide, red hair just a shade brighter than the burgundy jersey he was wearing. Leo decided his freckles looked just as cute on camera.

Next to Finn’s picture was Logan’s. The brunette’s eyebrows were slightly raised, his full lips just barely parted, giving him a faintly confused look that Leo found insanely adorable.

Marlene let out a squeal. “Oooooooooh, you do like them!”

“No, shut up.” Leo felt the blood rushing to his cheeks as he glared down at her.

“I mean, good choices. They are really hot.”

“No! Not good choices! Did you forget that they’re dating each other already?”

“And did you forget that they both flirted with you?”

He grumbled a reply as he turned to wipe down the counter.

“Leo, you said you put your number in their wallet, yeah?”

He nodded.

“So if they felt what you felt, they’ll call you.” She rubbed his arm soothingly. “Worst case scenario, you forget about them and move on. But you’re honestly a catch, Mr. Tall, light, and handsome. I wouldn’t worry.”

He smiled at her. “Thanks, Marley. You should get going with the cupcakes, though.”

“Crap, yes, I should.” She grabbed the box from the counter and her helmet from the shelves. “I will be back later!”

Leo pressed play on his music, turning it up again as he heard her motorcycle pull away. Then he started on the next order - a two-layer pistachio cake he’d already gotten half done. Three more Bad Sun’s songs and Leo was finally starting to loosen up to the music. He needed to put those hockey players out of his mind, or he would never be able to get anything done. “He’s a moth drawn, to a flame, he’s going in, he’s going all or nothin’,”

The customer’s door opened and Leo fumbled to pause the song. He was fine with Marlene hearing him sing, but he really did know that he had an awful voice.

“I’ll be right with you!” Leo called. He wiped his hands on his apron and stopped the mixer before walking out of the kitchen with a smile that promptly grew. “Hey!” He greeted the two men.

“Hi,” Finn said, sticking his hands in his pockets as Logan smiled back.

“What can I do for y’all today?” Leo placed his palms flat on the counter, suddenly painfully aware of the way his tank top showed off his arms. “I’m assuming y’all want some cake?”

Secretly, he was hoping they would say no, that’s not what they wanted. That they wanted him. That they came back for him.

Logan slipped his arm into Finn’s. “Well, we, uh, we wanted to tell you something.”

“Yeah?” Leo’s skin felt magnetic, pulling him towards the pair.

“Yeah,” Logan said. “We’re engaged.”

His heart, which had been beating out of his chest a minute ago, screeched to a halt and shattered in his chest. “You are? I-I-I mean, congratulations! Yeah, congrats, y’all, you’re engaged!” He ran a hand through his hair. “Wow! When’s, uh, when’s the wedding?”

Finn looked between Logan and Leo. “We’re not exactly sure yet. But we knew we wanted to come back and see you. For the cake.”

“For the cake,” Leo echoed.

“Oui, do you have time for us to sit down now?”

Leo looked around desperately for his appointment book, not trusting himself to meet either of the other two in the eye without dropping the act that he was happy for them. “I can, uh, I can make you an appointment, if you want, um.” He fumbled the pages to turn to a blank line. “Yeah, but I can’t meet right now, sorry. We can put you on the calendar, though? If-if you want.”

“Sure,” Finn nodded. “We’d love to.”

“Our next free day is Sunday, does that work?” Logan asked, leaning in to try and read Leo’s handwriting upside down.

“Yup, yup yup yup. Mhm. I can squeeze you right in. How’s noon work? Noon sound good?” Leo was smiling too widely, and rambling, he knew, but he had no idea to respond to this. The two guys he’d been non-stop thinking about, who he’d given his number to, had just come in to ask if he could bake their wedding cake.

For their wedding.

To each other.

And of course, Leo would.

“Noon sounds great,” Finn confirmed for him, and the blonde’s smile got tighter.

“Swell,” he gritted out. “Well, if that’s all...”

Logan and Finn looked at each other, and he couldn’t read the expression in their eyes.

“That’s all,” Logan said. “Merci Leo. We’ll see you Sunday, then? Noon?”

“Uh-huh,” Leo could tell his voice was too chipper. “Congratulations to y’all again!”

They offered him smiles before Finn held the door open for Logan.

His fiancé.

Leo went back into the kitchen and washed his hands before starting the mixer back up. Far too heartbroken by what just happened, he pressed play on the music and tried desperately not to cry.

They look so pretty from afar

Like the gates of heaven are open now

And my one true love has just waltzed right out, yeah

My brain reading this:

BADSUNSBADSUNSBADSUNSBADSUNS

LEO BABY

JUST FLIRT WITH HIM ALREADY FINNLO GOOD GRIEF GIVE HIM A HINT PLEASE

LEO BABY 😭

Ohhhh I love this story so so much!! Thank you for gifting us with this 💕

[pocket-void]

A Cup of Coffee

A/N: I am so incredibly relieved to have finished this, but anyways! This is the second fic for Smaller Sides to Life, and I hope it’s alright. (Might make a mini list for that eventually) ^///^ I feel better about this story after thinking about it, and honestly I’m pretty content! Thank you and I hope you have a lovely day/night. u///u

Pairing: Loceit Words: 3596 Content: Flustered Janus because it just kind of turned out that way akjefabekf, it’s mostly Janus’ POV, there’s like a handful of swear words, it is fully light hearted u///u Summary: Janus and Logan always share the kitchen in the morning, being the earliest ones to rise. They never really talked, nor were they ever close, but it turns out that maybe they both have wanted to be.

Google doc if you like reading Cambria font or something, since I haven’t quite figured out Ao3 and don’t know if I ever will. >///< Also I believe uh, @sophiexteresa you wanted to be tagged...?

“Tssss...ouch.”

Sometimes a morning is about as good as a cup of coffee.

Some days it’s rich, fulfilling, and satisfying; a perfect and refreshing way to start the day. A cup that wakes you up with a gentle spreading warmth and wraps you in its delicate aroma that soothes your mind.

Other times however, it’s bitter, bland, and too watered down to really be properly enjoyed, resulting in a disgusting aftertaste that lingers just at the back of your throat; a constant reminder of what could’ve been, a better cup of coffee. It’s doubly worse when the coffee is not only bad, but also way too hot. The only possible benefit of the harsh sting that comes from the first sip is that it completely numbs the taste buds, effectively nullifying the admittedly awful flavor of the beverage, which of course will inevitably come creeping back regardless because there never truly is an escape from the shame and disappointment that is failing to make something as easy as a cup of joe. 

Perhaps the simple truth was just that Janus was not very good at making coffee. He was never going to admit that, obviously. Heavens no, he’d rather down another cup of scalding bean water before that ever happened. It’s not like he’d be able to taste it right now anyways, with his stupid numb mouth and all. Still, the fact that he couldn’t seem to keep something as simple as coffee consistent was definitely an odd flaw that weighed heavily on his stubborn pride, much more than any petty insult ever could. Perhaps it was the simplicity of it all that made it feel like such a thorn in his side. Hypothetically, one should be able to follow a procedure each and every morning and end up with a, if not identical, similar tasting brew each time. Well evidently that was not the case with Janus, much to his chagrin. Out of the seven days in a week, he could maybe make a decent pot only during two of those days; maybe three if he was lucky. Over the course of a year he has drunk more overheated, burnt, and under extracted cups of coffee than he could even bother to count, which he didn’t, because it was frankly beyond embarrassing at this point. If coffee wasn’t such a crucial part of his morning, he wouldn’t hesitate to label it the absolute bane of his existence. Curse those pesky grounded beans.

“...Are you alright?” A voice calls out from the other side of the kitchen. Seated at the dining table just a few feet away was Logan, halfway through a book just like he was on most days. His own empty mug casually placed atop a scattered collection of papers that no doubt contained endless notes on various facts, vocabulary words, and details of the coming week’s activities.

Of course, how could he ever forget the second most embarrassing part of his already lackluster mornings. The fact that the only other intelligent person in the living space had to watch him do this ridiculous charade every day. They’re the only ones who’d ever be awake at this time of day, as such is the fate of two people with actually proper sleeping habits. He has no clue how Logan manages to bear witness to this laughable display with a straight face, though perhaps the man was just not really paying attention. As he was, more often than not, too absorbed in hastily scribbling down notes about whatever topic had caught his attention that week to probably care about Janus constantly burning his delicate tongue over and over again. Which, to be fair, was a good thing. Wasn’t it? Totally. Right. Of course he wouldn’t want Logan to see him act a fool, why was he even asking. It’s not like anything he was doing was ever going to be as interesting as whatever the man was reading up about, as disappointing as that was. Not that it mattered currently, seeing as how for once he did manage to notice and- Aw shoot he completely forgot about that didn’t he.

Janus simply makes a face and squints, lips still slightly parted as he held his tongue between his teeth. He sighs and, with a mildly sarcastic gesture of one hand, replies with simply “Yes”.

Logan responds by raising an eyebrow, gaze still remaining firmly upon him.

Now maybe it was the way the gentle sunlight filtered through the slightly fogged up windows, or the way the dust danced under those soft golden beams, but the sight of Logan seated at the table somehow seemed to shine with an almost unfair ethereal glow. Now if only the reflection of his glasses didn’t also obscure his eyes...

Janus blinks. “Oh it’s just great.” He finally complies, rolling his eyes and ignoring the fact that he was probably just blankly staring for the past few moments. You know, like a fool. Which he was not. “Nothing big, just the usual.”

“The usual.” Logan repeats, sounding rather unimpressed. To which the snake reacts to by immediately placing a gloved hand over his heart.

“What? Don’t believe me?”

“Quite the contrary,” The other shuts his book. “I am well aware of the fact that you tend to make this mistake on a nearly daily basis.” 

The record scratch was almost audible.

“You-” Janus practically stumbles at the revelation that Logan was, in fact, actually aware of his struggles with the abominable coffee machine and its products’ disastrous burning touch. Memories of his daily mishaps slowly begin to flood his mind, and as he recalled each and every previous morning, the sound of nails being hammered into what might as well be the coffin of his tattered pride echoed louder and louder in his ears. Well it was either that, or the blood that was currently rushing through them from his suddenly racing heart. For a moment he wasn’t even sure how to respond, but the creeping heat that soon invaded his face was all too prevalent to ignore; a burning sensation rivaling even that of his tongue. 

In hindsight, he was perhaps the foolish one to not expect someone as perceptive as Logan to notice such things. Maybe it was wishful thinking at best. But surely nobody could’ve foreseen Logan ignoring the mistakes he was making even after taking note of it, right? Logan, who’s known to instinctively attempt to remedy mistakes when he saw them. Logan, who gets way too caught up in silly errors and misunderstanding figurative statements. Surely he would’ve said something, anything. But he knew? He knew and he didn’t say anything? He knew and he just watched as he made a fool of himself every day? What would’ve been the purpose of that? Was he secretly mocking him? Did he find this amusing? Janus winces. That thought perhaps stung more than it should have. 

He quickly turns away with a flick of his capelette and pretends to occupy himself with cleaning up the counter. Focusing his attention to the obnoxious yellow of his gloves rather than the gaze he still felt on his back. “Ah, so you knew.” Janus mumbles, managing to muster up his best attempt at remaining casual. “Did you even need to ask, in that case? Didn’t think you would be paying attention to whatever I was doing.” Honestly—now ain’t that a joke—he wasn’t really even sure what else he could say to that. “You have better, less mundane things to be paying attention to, no? Surely I’m nowhere near as interesting as the books you oh so love to stick your nose in.” The soft chuckle that emanated from behind just made him want to coil up into a ball and dissipate even more, but he stands his ground. He’ll just...get through the morning and subsequently try to never think of this moment ever again. He’s totally fine. 

“I wouldn’t say you aren’t interesting, Janus.”

Ok nevermind, maybe he isn’t-

“I beg your pardon?” Janus almost instantly snaps his head back towards the man at the table. A decision he immediately regrets as he locks eyes with a softly smiling Logan—gently leaning forwards as his chin rests upon crossed hands—and Janus feels his composure once again fly right out the window. 

“I said I find you interesting.”

He takes a deep breath. “Don’t repeat that, I didn’t hear you.”

“I said-”

“No no, I didn’t mean that, actually stop.”

Logan quirks his eyebrow yet again, in the snarky yet triumphant way that showed when he knew he was right about something. While the confidence was admittedly charming, Janus for one really wishes he’d stop doing that. Especially right now.

“Would you like me to elaborate?”

“As a matter of fact, I would.” No he fucking didn’t, why the hell did he say that. He nods curtly, setting his coffee cup aside as he awkwardly leans against the counter for support more than anything else. Ignoring the fact that he wanted nothing more than to leave this current predicament, he hoped to god, the bastard, that the panic settling in his bones wasn’t showing on his face.

Logan smiles a little. “Well personally, I rather enjoy our time in each other’s presence during the morning.”

He enjoyed his company? “Well I certainly wouldn’t have guessed.”

“I’ve also observed that you tend to have great difficulty making your preferred morning beverage the way you like it, correct?”

Ouch. “No?”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Logan replies without pause. “While I find your persistence admirable, I think we’ve reached the point of reasonable doubt a good while ago.”

“Mhm, yeah, great. Great. And are you just going to sit there and humiliate me, or are you actually trying to make a point?” Suffice it to say, he was not a big fan of hearing about it.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to offend or belittle you in any way.”

Janus scowls. “So what? Have my mistakes finally bothered you enough to actually speak up about it?”

“Well, I had anticipated you asking for assistance one of these days, but it seems like I have underestimated your tenacity.” Logan adjusts his glasses as he opens up one of his notebooks. “Truly a miscalculation on my part.”

“Miscalculation?” He gives a weary glance at the notebook. Logan had tons of them; each one having a different color or pattern that denoted their specific purpose. A sudden realization hits him as he gets a brief glance of the yellow cover. “Have you been observing me??”

“For the past few months, yes.” The man looks back up with a click of his pen. “Is there a problem?”

Is there a problem? How the hell does he just say these things? Of course there was a problem! How in the world was he supposed to live this down knowing that Logan didn’t just notice him every morning, but also was most likely taking excessively extensive notes? He was beginning to think that his attempts to make himself less conspicuous in the morning had subsequently led him to be less perceptive about what the other was doing instead, and that was an irony that he did not want to think about right now.

“Well I simply don’t see any benefit for you in doing that.”

That actually seems to make the other take pause. “There is no benefit.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“There is no benefit.”

“You really need to stop repeating things when I-” Deep breath Janus, deep breath. “I’m not actually asking you to- Nevermind that, why are you doing this then?”

Logan lightly taps his pen against his chin. He shrugs. “I just wanted to figure out the best method of assisting you.”

“Oh and why would you ever care to do that?”

There wasn’t an immediate answer. Just a quiet, all encompassing silence interrupted by only the occasional distant chirping of birds, as the two remained where they were in the kitchen on what was supposed to be a typical Tuesday morning.

Truth was, he didn’t want to hear it. And for one moment, just that moment, time seemed to slow. As Janus stands by the counter, with the bittersweet smell of his still cooling cup of coffee gently wafting his way and his eyes still focused on the twinkling starry blue that was Logan’s eyes, something within him was absolutely terrified. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know why. Or perhaps he did, but for the sake of himself he had never dared to acknowledge it. He couldn’t. How could he? His world sat upon an ever delicate balance, and he was not one to step towards any risk of tipping that scale. So he never did. As much as he wishes he could. To be important. To be just a few feet closer. To be just one seat away. To be sitting at that table, silently listening to Logan rant about the latest book he oh so loved to stick his nose in, and to take a sip out of a cup that was not his own. As much as he wishes he could. But no, he couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

Yet a part of him still hopes, and he curses himself for it.

Every part of his body is telling him to get out right now. To run. To spare himself the agony being here instead of literally anywhere else. To save himself before whatever words that were about to leave Logan’s mouth completely shatters the status quo that he was already accustomed to. He knew he was hoping for too much, it was too late to take anything back, and at this point even if it were just a kind hearted gesture from a well meaning acquaintance, he didn’t think his currently pounding heart could bear the affirmation of what he already suspected. It was frankly a lose-lose situation. A situation he should’ve known better than to get himself into. A situation where he knew the best solution was just to leave.

Which is why within that moment, just one moment in which time had seemed to slow, when Janus is suddenly pulled back into reality as he now finds himself glancing upwards at Logan, who was now standing a mere two feet away. He instinctively attempts to take a step back, but his heel taps against the counter, clearly surprised at the sudden shift in positioning. Had he really been that lost in thought? Janus finally breaks away his gaze to look to the side, holding his breath as if he were bracing for whatever the other had to say next.

“Am I not allowed to?” The unexpected softness in Logan’s voice was so incredibly unfair, and it obliterated any guard that he could have ever possibly put up. 

“I- No, you just...” He inhales rather sharply. Get a grip. “Just why would you-”

“Janus.”

He looks back and suddenly they’re face to face, barely a few inches apart, and within moments he completely forgets how to breathe.

Logan laughs. He laughs. With a tenderness he has never seen etched across the man’s typically serious face. Janus stares, completely mesmerized by the beautiful yet admittedly confusing sight, and forgetting about just why he was so flustered not too long ago. He feels his hand be slowly taken into another as Logan lifts to hold it within both of his own.

“Would you mind if I made your coffee tomorrow morning?” He asks, voice barely a whisper and lips still curled in an enchanting smile.

It was a request that barely registers itself in Janus’ mind, but he quickly manages a nod after swallowing practically nothing; his mouth suddenly dry. The only thing he could focus on was just how darn close those lips were, or how deep his eyes were, or how he still smelled faintly of chamomile tea, or- “Please.” He states, with whatever remaining dignity he had left.

The other seemed pleased with the answer, and the silent understanding that was present between them felt almost too nice to be true, yet it managed to put all of his worries to rest. Part of Janus wishes time could stop right here, with his hand delicately held between Logan’s and his heart quietly swelling within his chest; the other part promptly snaps him out of that ridiculous fantasy to focus back on what was actually happening. Logan hadn’t yet moved from where he was.

“Uh…” Janus lightly bit his lip, the next thing almost paining him to suggest. “Could you perhaps...let go now?” 

“Of course.” Logan says, loosening the hold on the other’s hand. An admittedly disappointing gesture, but it’s not like anyone was going to admit that. “There are still tasks that we must both attend to.” But before he steps back to return to his seat, he gently leans in to lift Janus’ hat and plants a soft kiss upon his forehead. The expression Janus showed as a result is surely priceless as his eyes grow wide and heat instantly flares across the rest of his face yet again. He couldn’t even get a word of protest out before Logan walks away after a small pat on his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“...Right.” He replies, and promptly excuses himself from the kitchen as fast as humanly possible. He genuinely didn’t think he could handle staying there for much longer. His head was still spinning from everything that had happened, and the simple promise that was to be fulfilled the next morning sat heavily on his mind for the rest of the day. Did he know what he was doing? Was it on purpose? Was he allowed to believe in what he hadn’t thought was possible before? Janus places a hand over his forehead, the feeling of warm lips touching against his skin still rather fresh in his memories. Maybe, he could allow himself to enjoy it? What a dangerous thought, but ever so enticing. Here he thought that he could avoid it forever, and eventually it would be forgotten. Like a fool. Which he just might be.

It was something he’d probably never escape, but was it a curse? Or a blessing? Or perhaps it was neither, since neither of those things exist. But alas these feelings did, and if he couldn’t throw them away, then he’d have to keep them.

The next morning inevitably came, and with great anticipation Janus pauses a few steps before entering the kitchen. He places a hand over his heart, as if the action would somehow manage to soothe its wild rhythm, and takes a deep breath. He enters, hesitant and still groggy from just getting up, completely not knowing what to expect.

Logan was there, as usual, sitting at the dining table, papers scattered all across the surface and eyes attentively scanning through the pages of yet another book. It felt almost like a crime to disturb his concentration, but a new detail catches Janus’ eyes. A second cup, placed but a foot away from the other on the table; the area around the mug being mildly less cluttered as if to make room. 

Janus finally steps forward to make his way to the table, his arrival being politely greeted with a “salutations” from the other, and immediately given an offer to sit.

“Here?” He gestures, giving a tentative glance towards where he was used to standing. A comfortable distance away, by the counter. But now that safe haven seemed so far away.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With that he pulls out a chair and takes a seat. His eyes wander towards the various papers that cover most of the table’s surface. Notes, facts, and schedules, just like he always imagined. The confirmation of being correct about something never fails to amuse him. He sneaks a peek at Logan, whose gaze also shifts up from his book without lifting his head.

“Reading about coffee today are we?” Janus chuckles.

“There can be a surprising amount of depth to any subject.”

“Hmm.” Janus hums. “...Tell me about it.”

And so he does.

While the two sit in tranquil harmony, with Logan explaining the intricacies of coffee, from its history to its benefits to its various methods of consumption, and Janus patiently listening while staring down at the drink that was poured for him beforehand, in the cup that he has always used each and every morning before. Amidst the pleasant atmosphere and the comforting voice of another, he eventually takes a sip.

It was perfect.

“I’m pleased you like it.” Logan comments, noticing the content expression on his face.

“You really did your research huh.”

“It took a few months. It was difficult to gather data when there was no consistency in the methodology that you used.”

Janus coughs and glances away again, but he hears the small chuckle underneath Logan’s breath.

“I can walk you through the process one day if you’d like.”

“I think I’d rather leave it to you.”

“A wise course of action.”

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself.” Janus mumbles, smiling a little to himself and completely accepting defeat in that regard. 

Sometimes a morning is about as good as a cup of coffee. And now, sitting here at the table under the gentle light of the rising sun, perhaps every following morning could be similarly warm, fulfilling, and just as perfect as well. 

After all, every cup was now going to be just the way he likes it.

[pinkprimrose05]

GX Month Day 5: Dramatic Rescue

@gxmonth

Yeah boi, headcanon time! Now, I could've done a fanfic with one headcanon or two, but I think I used up all of my inspiration juice on the next two prompts I'm doing so naaaah, you just get a list of my crazy headcanons about Duel World GX. It's a horrible excuse, I know, but I'm incompetent like that and idk what else to say honestly sooo here we go.

1- Shou treats Cycroid like a pet. Literally. They go out on walks and everything, and their favorite spot is the bridge to the PvP Arena. Cycroid even makes those cute little tire scraping noises when Shou pats his seat, and everyone else has mixed reactions of 'Meh' and 'AWWWW' because the guy finally found his own smol spirit partner and they're adorable together.

2- Fubuki's been trying to log into the game for a good while now, and while he's already registered into the database, the game still refuses to let him in. Whenever someone asks him about it, he just shrugs and says "Don't worry kiddos, I'm just waiting for the right time to make my grand entrance!"

...He totally doesn't play sad ukulele music when he randomly realizes how much action he missed. Nope, definitely not.

3- O'Brien is secretly a hardcore grinder, and has almost every event title that could be obtained since he came to the game, in addition to reaching King of Games 7 times. He still keeps telling everyone he's only here to research the magical bullshit strange occurences going on in the Duel World, though. Can't have anyone know he's a pro gamer after all.

4- Some trivia about the Standard Duelists: Evan is a first-year, Kylie, Madison and Logan are second-years, and Zachary and Alyssa are third-years at Academia. They have a kinda sorta club thing where they meet up every week in a Duel Room and play, but something always goes wrong in the end (mainly because Zachary's a salty sore loser).

Madison has the braincell of the group and sort of a tsundere, Alyssa tries (and fails) to be the voice of reason, Kylie is the main force that holds the group together in the first place, Evan and Logan are Insecure Bros™, and Zachary...nobody cares about Zachary.

(I'm totally not being biased af against him because he annoys me, I legit can't see anyone getting along with the guy. He's literally 1st Arc Manjoume 2.0, but much more of a pushover.)

5- Aight, this one's been stuck in my head since August 1st, and it makes no sense but also kinda does. As you may or may not know, Duel Links has this weirdass tendency to recreate dead characters or ones that aren't supposed to exist, and also creates younger versions of living ones. As a result, Duel World GX has two of these (that's an abysmally low number compared to DM and 5D's btw), those being Smol Juudai and a virtual incarnation of the Supreme King.

The headcanon here is this: The two actually kinda get along. Sorta. Okay to be fair, their relationship was mainly Smol Juudai following the King around everywhere he goes, trying to get the guy to talk, only to be met by "......" every single time.

You think that'll stop him? Oh hell no. This kid has seen another version of himself that has gone down a terribly wrong path, and he's making it his mission to understand why. He keeps stalking following him, tries to Duel him (he loses once and forces out a draw twice), and after twenty-one days of persistence and maximum levels of determination in the face of constantly failing attempts, the King finally throws the towel and talks.

And somehow, he's not sure exactly how, he slowly stops thinking of his doppelgänger as an annoyance. Yes, he may be too positive at times, too naïve, too trusting and outgoing and friendly and kind, but he's trying his best to understand him, he's trying to befriend him...and...he doesn't mind the gesture.

(And on a side note, he ends up telling Smol Juudai his real name because he's so tired of being constantly and unncessarily called by his title (I might elaborate on that little hc if asked I guess). This should be a separate headcanon too but well, screw it, I believe his real name is Jaden and I'll die with that belief.)

~~~~~~

There ya go, a bunch of stupid and self-indulgent af headcanons. Next prompt from me is on Day 7, so stay tuned for that, and if you’d like to follow my prompts for the month, I’m posting them all on ArchiveofOurOwn: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33473653/chapters/83489824

[soda-pop-kandy-krush]

uhhhh dukeceit if youre comfortable w/ the dark sides, if not maybe analogical

unfortunately i’m not suuuper comfy with dukeceit but will gladly take any other pairing with deciet and another side 💗 but in the mean time, go go analogical!! my two faves hehe 🥺

-

1. Who has the cutest tickle laugh?

godddddd this is so! hard! they both have adorable laughs... but i want to say maybe logan JUST BECAUSE it’s slightly goofier than virgil’s and being all happy and giggly and flustered is a really good look on him. virgil gets embarrassed, but in a sweet, shy sort of way where he obviously wants you to tease him about it- logan’s brain just short-circuits and he is not in control of his laughter when you tickle him ahsgshjdgh

-

2. Who is ticklish in unusual places and where would that be?

i think i’ve already put it in other posts with different pairings, but both of them! virgil’s spots are his back and ears, logan’s are his ears and wrists! i feel like they would gently brush their fingers near those spots whilst cuddling and smirk when they notice the other trying to hide a wobbly grin 🥺💗

-

3. Who gets cheer-up tickles?

both of themmmm hehe especially logan, because i feel like his first instinct when virgil is sad/grumpy isn’t to tickle him (plus it’s more fun to cheer him up and then make him ask for it asjhsjdgh), but it definitely is for virgil LMAO- only when he can tell it’s nothing super serious, though. logan will just be sulking and virgil will sigh and shake his head and pin him to the bed and blow raspberries against his sides and tummy until he’s aaaall cheered up (and a couple extra, just to make sure 😉)

-

4. Who takes advantage of the other one getting their arms stuck while taking off their shirt?

much like he does to roman, logan likes to play games with virgil BUT this time he takes full advantage and will wrap his arms around his torso from behind and get him good (how can you blame him, there are just too many good spots that he can never get at normally because virgil is a squirmer and will wriggle around like a worm) ((also virgil loves it and will make a point of yawning and stretching as much as possible in logan’s presence so he’ll spider his fingers up his ribs and trap him and make him curl into a lil giggly ball))

-

5. How did they discover each other’s ticklishness?

i feel like virgil would probably have been teasing logan about how uptight he is and telling him to ‘loosen up a little’ and logan just narrows his eyes and is like ‘i’ll show you how to loosen up’... cue what virgil will say was a tickle fight, but really he only got in a good five minutes before logan turns the tables and figures out that his torso is all one big death spot ashgdhdgh

-

6. Who can’t take tickle bites?

NEITHER OF THEM AHHHHHH they’re both so easily flustered and this is the quickest way to do it because the shrieking/squealing/snorting etc. noises they make are a) the most adorable thing to ever exist to the ler, but b) horribly embarrassing to the lee LMAO (but honestly, /hj because they secretly love it, it’s so fun and silly and makes them feel all bubbly and giddy and like they’re floating). also, they’re most susceptible to them in different places- for virgil it’s his neck and ears, for logi it’s his shoulder blades 😭💗

-

7. Who has to be tickle-forced out of bed in the morning?

virgeyyyyy- logan likes to stick to a tight schedule, so he’s always awake before virgil, but he’s never truly merciless because he knows that sometimes he has trouble getting a good night’s sleep and so he figures that maybe a pleasant wake-up call will make up for it. he’ll wake up and get dressed and tick a couple of things off of the to-do list, before slinking back up to their room and sitting on the bed and rubbing a hand up and down his back before gently brushing his fingertips against the backs of his ribs (super secret death spot BUT also a melt spot if it’s really light touches like this) until virgil drifts awake with a soft, sleepy smile on his face

-

8. Who gives up in a tickle fight?

listen... virgil may be stubborn but logan is built like a trojan warrior and also knows virgil’s worst spots way better than virgil knows his. unfair? perhaps. does that stop virgil from baiting him into starting a fight he knows he won’t be able to win? absolutely not. also, i know technically they’re all the same height, but in my head logan has an extra 2-3 inches on virgil and so essentially towers over him once logan has him pinned against the bed with his shirt pushed up and his hands trapped under his knees, which makes him feel even smaller and more trapped than he already is and has virgil begging for mercy within minutes ahshsjdghh

-

9. Who is in danger of getting hurt when attacking the other?

virgil is super squirmy but will take everything that’s dished out to him pretty well (mostly because he’s so ticklish that he’s usually too weak to fight back properly so all he can do is wiggle around wahhhhh), and logan is a tiiiiny bit less ticklish than virgil so doesn’t struggle as much, HOWEVER if virgil can manage to shove him onto his front and sit on his legs to get at his feet, he is in imminent danger of being kicked. honestly, the reason why logan is reigning tickle fight champion is 30% his skill/strength and 70% the fear that virgil will get his feet because it’s his worst spot and he CAN’T TAKE IT lmaoooooo

-

10. Who always provokes the other into tickling them and how?

i love this question LMAO i genuinely think i’ve put ‘both teehee <3′ for every single pairing, so why break tradition now? of COURSE both of them provoke one another, but they do so in different ways. here, i think virgil would be a little bit less shy around logan and so will poke and prod him until he yanks him onto his lap and pins his arms against his chest so he has free access to all of the spots around his sides and belly. logan, on the other hand, gets all huffy and flustered when virgil catches him trying to ‘ask’ for tickles by being all cuddly and wrapping virgil’s arm around him so that his hand is closer to some of his better spots, so virgil tells him to ‘use your words, braniac...’ if he reeeeally wants to be tickled. which, he does, so he’ll bury his face into virgil’s chest and mumble them, barely loud enough to be heard, but virgil doesn’t need to be told twice before digging his fingers up underneath his arms and making him shriek hehe 💗

[taxicabinmemphis]

“I’m exhausted” Logan and whatever side you want (can be platonic or romantic), Logan's experiencing emotions he's not used to and it's draining

so i’m a sucker for analogical and this got long. tho honestly this is me we’re talking about so what did you expect?

“Logan!” Virgil exclaimed, slamming the logical side’s door open. “What in the name of Ray Toro are we going to do about Thomas driving near a club at night on Wednesday? That’s the route you suggested he take! But Thomas is going to get killed by a drunk driver if that happens! So, what do we do?!”

Logan sighed, picking his head up from the table on which it was resting. He put his glasses on, facing the anxious side. “We’ll be fine, Virgil. However, if it bothers you so much we can go on another street. Also, will you please knock next time?”

Virgil’s exclamations and anxiety-fueled antics stopped, and he finally got a good look at the logical side. He looked terrible.

“You good, L?”

Logan rolled his eyes, turning his head away from Virgil so the side couldn’t take notice of his messy state. “I’m fine. I have given you what you required, so unless you have any other qualms you wish me to take care of, please leave.”

“Yeah, I have one more ‘qualm’ or whatever you called it,” Virgil said, approaching Logan. “You.”

Logan exhaled, giving Virgil an irritated look. “Yes, of course. What did I do this time?”

Virgil sat on Logan’s table, on his left, and gave him a scrutinizing look. “You’ve done nothing wrong, as per usual, but you’re a mess.”

“Thank you,” Logan said sarcastically, though Virgil’s ‘as per usual’ did lighten his mood by the tiniest fraction.

“I don’t mean it as a thing you’ve done wrong, but...” Virgil gave him a once-over. “Your hair is a mess, your glasses are crooked and weren’t even on when I came in, your tie is incredibly loose, your top button is undone, and your shoes are untied. If I wore your clothing, that would be expected of me and might even be considered nice, but this is you we’re talking about.” He paused, looking into Logan’s eyes. “What’s going on with you, buddy?”

Logan tried to fix his hair, adjusted his glasses, and tied his shoes. He left his shirt and tie the way they were as fixing them would feel restricting. He had loosened his tie and unbutton the top button of his shirt a few hours before because he felt like they were hindering his breathing.

“This is a worry I will not be calming for you. I’d greatly appreciate it if you would leave and not tell anyone about what you saw here.”

“No.”

“Look, I’m not in a compromising situation. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

“You just told me,” Virgil said slowly, “me, not to worry.”

Logan sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. “Yes, I realize my mistake. Of course you’re worried. Fine. Worry somewhere that isn’t my room, please.”

Virgil crossed his arms. “Rude.”

“Exactly. No one wants to be around rude people. Leave me alone.”

Virgil shook his head, putting a hand on Logan’s shoulder, the logical side immediately shrugging it off. “I’m worried about you, dude. I can’t help it, you’re the voice of reason. If you’re not doing okay, Thomas will suffer. And I don’t mean this as criticism or pressure for you to be okay, just...it’s really important to make sure you’re alright. It can’t just be dismissed as one of my normal, unimportant worries. It wouldn’t be...logical to leave you like this.”

“I’m not fond of the fact that you are likely correct,” Logan grumbled.

“Great; we’ve established that I have to stay,” Virgil stated. “So, what’s up?”

“I...” Logan trailed off, thinking about how to voice his emotions. “I’m exhausted.”

“Hmm?”

“Every day I work tirelessly to provide you all with what you need. Schedules, explanations, assistance in educational activities. I join you all in most of your discussions, offering the logical explanation or solution for the current dilemma almost immediately, and yet no one listens. No one will heed my advice, or listen to my suggestions. I would gladly do what I do with no problem if it wasn’t like talking to a wall and telling it how to deal with its issues.”

“Logan...”

“I’m just...I don’t know...” He put his head back down on the desk.

“No one means to hurt your feelings.”

“It’s not that. I’m over being hurt, or offended...”

“Then?”

“I’m just so tired, V.”

Virgil didn’t have a response to that. Logan lifted his head to look at Virgil.

“There’s nothing else to it.” Logan rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “I’m tired. Exhausted. And I don’t know how to deal with it.”

“Get some sleep?” Virgil suggested. “I can talk with the others, fix our rude behavior. And I’m sorry, I know I can be rude to you-”

Logan thought back to Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts. Virgil had been particularly disrespectful that episode, but it was only because he thought that further conversation on the topic would only make Thomas’ situation worse and his likelihood of becoming a bad person all the more likely.

“You’ve only been rude to me recently when your anxiety was telling you that what I was doing would make things worse. Your actions were out of fear and were understandable and while I was annoyed, I am over it and require no apology.”

“Oh...okay,” Virgil replied quietly. “Thank you for understanding.”

“And talking with the others may help, if you’re up for it.”

Virgil nodded. “Maybe we could do it together? I don’t know exactly how you’re feeling, so having you there would help.”

“Of course.”

“...Would sleep help?” Virgil asked. “I know you work a lot so it could help with the fatigue. You don’t always listen to your own advice, so-”

“Not with this problem, I’m afraid,” Logan said with a grimace. “Sleep doesn’t take me away from dealing with everyone and my emotions permanently.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Emotions, huh?”

Logan sighed. “Yes. It has come to my attention that I do indeed...feel things, despite it not being logical.”

“It may not be logical, but it’s normal.” Virgil furrowed his eyebrows. “What emotions are troubling you?”

“I’m not sure I would like to talk with you about it,” Logan said bluntly. “There’s more than I know what to do with.”

“Oh. Should I get Patton?”

“No!” Logan exclaimed, eyes widening at his own volume. “Apologies. No, that would not be appreciated.”

“Is it, like, anger over not being listened to? Irritation? Insecurity?”

Logan stared at him for a moment, before answering. “Yes. Those are some of the troubling emotions.”

“Among others?”

“Among others.”

“And you don’t want to talk with me about it because...”

Logan didn’t want to answer this. He knew he’d been feeling something for the anxious side lately, and it was before he walked in the Logan decided it was likely something akin to romantic love.

Virgil was just so wonderful. He was smart, thoughtful, protective, funny (at times), beautiful, and they got along very well.

Having those types of feelings for someone, especially Virgil, scared him. He also didn’t want Virgil to know, in case it hurt their friendship or heightened his anxiety.

So, he figured it would be best not to mention it.

“I would rather not talk about it at all.”

Virgil frowned. “But you singled me out. Why?”

“Because we are currently talking.”

Virgil gave him an unimpressed look—he clearly didn’t buy it.

“I don’t want you to know.”

Virgil nodded, looking away from Logan and to his lap. “You hate me, don’t you?”

“Wha- no!” Logan objected incredulously.

“It’s okay, I get it, no need to sugarcoat it,” Virgil said pitifully. “I undermine what you do, I annoy you with my worries, I-”

“Stop,” Logan commanded firmly. “None of those things are true. I’m not having trouble with hateful emotions...I’m having trouble with their opposites. Please don’t talk to me about them.”

“You’re having trouble with...love?”

“Can’t we just leave it?”

Virgil grinned. “No. I will get to the bottom of this.”

Logan groaned, throwing his head back against the chair he was in.

“Is it Patton?” Virgil asked. “I bet it’s Patton. That’s why you’re so hurt when people don’t listen. You want him to think you’re smart and cool and you want him to notice and like you.”

“It’s not Patton.”

“No?” Virgil asked, surprised. However, he was secretly very happy. “I bet you’re lying.”

Logan didn’t understand how Virgil hadn’t caught on. “Just leave me alone, please.”

“No, we went over this,” Virgil said, exasperated. “I will now help you find love.”

“No, you won’t,” Logan disagreed. If Virgil was willing to help him with this, he obviously didn’t feel the same.

“Yes, I will,” Virgil replied. “I care about you. I won’t let you suffer through this unfamiliarity alone.”

In truth, Virgil knew because he suffered through it with his feelings for Logan. He still was suffering through it.

“The gesture is touching, but I will have to decline.”

Virgil gasped. “Is it Janus? You two are both incredibly intelligent.”

Virgil really didn’t know?

“No, it isn’t.”

Virgil put a hand to his chin in thought. “What’s he like?”

“He’s an idiot, that’s what he is,” Logan said in exasperation.

“Oh, so it’s Roman.”

Though, considering he didn’t want Virgil to know, this may have been good.

“All of you are idiots; I wasn’t specifying anything.” He pulled out a schedule for a future day and started to work on it.

“So it’s Roman.”

Logan shook his head. “No.”

Virgil paused. “It’s Remus?!”

Logan put his pen down, absolutely done. “Yes. Yes, it’s Remus. Me, the embodiment of logic, fell in love with a chaotic and crazy side who took out my teeth and hit me with a throwing star that, if I were human, would have killed me.” He gave Virgil a look.

There was a moment of silence.

“...Thomas?”

Logan threw his pen at Virgil’s head. “Get out. Leave. Leave my room, you utter and complete moron. I will not tolerate such idiocy in my sacred space of intelligence and higher thinking.”

Virgil put his hands up, jumping off the table and walking towards the door. He reached for the handle, but stopped.

He thought back to their conversation, who he’d eliminated, who he’d hadn’t, and Logan’s reactions. He remembered that time when he and Patton were in Logan’s room a week before, and Logan yelled at Patton for so much as leaning on his table. Logan just let him sit on the table for an extended period of time. Logan didn’t force him out of his room or sink out, he just told Virgil to leave multiple times. He did try to ward him off with rudeness once, but never tried again. He also defended Virgil’s actions that hurt his feelings...to Virgil. Not to mention, he described his crush as an idiot before going on to call Virgil out on his idiocy and use that to send him out of his room.

“...Oh.”

Logan knew this meant Virgil had figured it out, so he took another pen and started to write furiously.

Virgil swiveled on his heels to face Logan, a look of realization on his face. He suppressed a laugh when he saw the side turned away from him and to his work, writing quickly and fully ignoring him. He found it absolutely adorable.

He walked over to Logan slowly, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets. He stood beside Logan’s chair, placing a hand on the top left of it. He saw Logan’s movements stiffen a bit, but otherwise stay the same.

He turned the chair so Logan was facing him. Logan’s eyes widened, his pen dropped from his hands, and he stopped moving.

Virgil tilted the chair back, and he leaned over Logan.

“You love me, don’t you?”

“It appears so.”

Virgil chuckled, getting closer to Logan.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” Virgil teased.

Logan shook his head no in protest.

Virgil laughed. “If you say so. You’re already hot so I guess it’s unfair for you to be both.”

Logan’s cheeks flushed. There was a silence as the two just stared at each other for a moment.

Virgil’s eyes flickered to Logan’s lips.

“Would you mind if I kissed you?” Virgil murmured quietly.

“No,” Logan replied.

Virgil smiled, and—still tilting Logan’s chair back—kissed him like he was the most important thing in the world.

And to each other, that was exactly what they were.

~

Sorry this got long! I am such an a sucker for analogical I’m sorry. Hope you liked it! If you would like a redo, please shoot me as ask. Thanks!