#i luff my new pure child

[preciousspoon]

NEW BOI NEW BOI NEW BOI!

Meet Cybil Cyber!!

An intern who works under Lawrences and is essentially his secretary/assistant who organizes Lawrece's files, checks his email, answers and queues up clients etc. etc.

They're quite hardworking and dilligent on their job and just a loyal pure cinnamon roll.

They're also mega gay for the Libra family in general. Gayly pining at both Lawrence and Aiden (mostly Aiden) because they look up to them a lot.

They have a special ability in which they can use their phone heads to tap into any landlines and connect their head via that. That is why they can directly answer Lawrence's client calls through their head.

[cosychans]

Serendipity | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader.

Words: 3,309.

Genre: Fluff.

Request: Soulmate tattoo au with Chan.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy! If you have a request, feel free to send something in to my ask box~ This is also heavily inspired by “I Am You, You Are Me” by Zico!

Bang Chan.

For the entirety of your life, you have had the small, neatly and prettily scripted name inked into your flesh on your left wrist. You have poked and prodded at it, as if you would somehow be able to scratch the ink off. You have stared at it for hours on end, usually in the middle of boring school lectures or late into the night when you can’t sleep, wondering what sort of person belongs to the name. Who they might be, what they might look like, when you might meet them. How you will fall in love with them. If you will fall in love with them.

When you were just a child, you would ask countless and pointless questions that no one had the answers for.

“When will I meet them?”

“How will I know it’s the right person?”

“What if we aren’t soulmates?”

Your mother or aunt or whomever was nearest to you at the time would simply shake their head, a tiny grin on their face, tattoos of names of their own partners on their wrists. There was no way to answer these questions, after all. No one knew when they’d meet their soulmate but it almost always happened. That isn’t to say you didn’t grow nervous over the years, as you come to learn that some people may meet their soulmate whose name on their wrist doesn’t match; some people who are cursed from the beginning to fall in love with a person who will never love them back. It was all up to fate to decide, of course. Fate’s hands whom you put all your trust and concern into. It was fate who put that name on your wrist, who picked this stranger out of the thousands of others as if plucking a random star from the sky.

You would grow older, watch some of your friends meet their soulmate at such young ages that they wouldn’t even know what to do with themselves. You would see couples walking down the street, hand-in-hand, tattooed wrists showing proudly to the world how fate had driven one another together in a fortunate happenstance. Yet you were alone. Still. At one point, the panic had grown so strong that you feared maybe you would never meet your soulmate. That maybe you were doomed to be alone forever from the very start, no hope at all for you.

Then one day everything seems to change.

It is the summer after you graduate from high school and you find yourself stowed away from the heat and inside the cool confinements of the corner store near the college you are going to attend come fall. It’s hot and sticky and you are alone, seated at the counter with a book propped open in front of you, and a rickety old fan that is blowing cool air into your face. The only customers you’ve had all day were mostly young kids pooling together their allowance to buy ice cream and a small handful of older business people and teens who are in need of a drink. But other than that, the store is empty for most of the day. You had nearly been dozing off at the counter when the bell above the door rings, cheerfully signalling the store’s new arrival.

When you look up to greet them, your breath hitches in your throat. You have never seen someone so intimidatingly attractive. The newcomer is a boy, no older than you, with dyed blonde hair that hangs over his eyes in tousled waves. When he smiles at you, his cheeks reveal the hidden dimples that poke through and it almost instantly makes him appear softer, happier. You don’t find the courage to talk to him that day. It’s not as if he was in there for very long anyway. Two more boys follow him into the store shortly after and, moments later, they are at the counter paying for their drinks. When they walk out the door, you find yourself gazing after the blonde boy as he fades into the distance, all the way until he turns a corner, and then continue to stare at the spot as if willing him to return.

Maybe it’s fate who works it’s magic after that because you do see him again. Whether by pure luck or coincidence or fate, the boy returns to the store three days later. Seated once more behind the counter flipping through a magazine, you are startled again to see the boy walk through the door after looking up upon hearing the bell. He smiles at you again, disappears to grab a drink, and then returns to the counter. This time, he’s alone and takes it upon himself to strike up a conversation with you.

“Long day?” he asks.

You shrug, your eyes fixated only on the drink as you scan it. “Sort of. It beats being outside in that heat, though.”

“Tell me about it,” he says, handing you his money. “It feels like heaven in here compared to out there. You don’t mind if I come by once and a while, do you?”

“Of course not. Especially since it’s been dead lately.”

When you look up at him to hand him his change, his fingers brush against yours and there’s a fleeting moment where you feel a jolt. A rush of all sorts of feelings. Excitement, anticipation, yearning. It makes your heart skip a beat, makes your head warm. Maybe he feels it, too, because you find him staring at your touching hands just a moment too long before he’s pulling away. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly and then nods.

“Understandable,” he says. “I guess everyone is out there trying to enjoy the warmth while it lasts. No offence, but why would you get a job during the summer and subject yourself to that sort of pain?”

This makes you chuckle. You shrug sheepishly, sit back in your seat. “Easy cash, I suppose. I’m gonna need it when I start college, anyway.”

“Where do you go?”

“It’s just around the corner.”

“No way,” The boy says. His eyes seem to brighten at this newfound knowledge, his tone laced with interest. “I’m going there in the fall, too! I just moved here actually.”

The mention of this seems to make your heart flutter in your chest. “Maybe I can show you around sometime?”

A soft smile forms on the boy’s face. It is full of ardent joy, a look so contagious that you can’t help but mirror it. “I’d love that.”

His eyes dart to his phone and the time that illuminates the screen. He curses under his breath and begins backing away. “Hey, I gotta go. I’m currently late. But it was nice meeting you. What was your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, it was a pleasure to meet you,” he says. “Hopefully we meet again.”

His smile turns into a sort of wolfish grin and he nods once, a simple parting gesture. Just before he can round on his heels to leave, you are overwhelmed with the urge to speak once more.

“Wait! What was your name again? I didn’t catch it.”

He turns back to you, the golden sun shimmering in past the windows and illuminating him. “It’s Chan. Bang Chan.”

Suddenly, the world seems to stop. Your mind sharpens on the name inked on your wrist, your hand absentmindedly wrapping around your left wrist as if to both familiarize yourself with it and hide it from the boy in front of you because he’s your soulmate. All these years of wondering who your soulmate would be, what romantic ways they could introduce themselves, sweep you off your feet like Prince Charming, and fate just so serendipitously drops him into your lap on such a mundane evening. You fathom the split second of insane courage to blurt the truth to him but you hesitate.

You can’t do that. You can’t scare him like that. You most certainly can’t get your hopes up. He might already be in love with someone. He might not even be your soulmate. So, you remain silent. You smile at him as nonchalantly and friendly as you can and he seems unsuspecting of your slight pause.

Then, he’s gone, walking out the door and into the summer heat. The bell above the door jingles jubilantly, almost a taunting note that maybe you had, quite literally, let the love of your life slip from your fingers. Would you ever see him again? Would he keep his promise, no matter how little it may be to him? You supposed only fate would decide that now.

When Chan returns to the shop, two more days have passed.

Realistically, you had told yourself not to get your hopes up. You didn’t want to be hurt or disappointed, despite your thoughts being overwhelmed by the boy. You’ve caught yourself more than once daydreaming about him, about what it would be like to hold his hand, his warm fingers lacing with yours; to wear his sweater on cold winter days, wrapped in his scent; to have him look at you as if you were the sun. It both thrills you and scares you.

It’s perhaps one of the hottest days of the summer. An intense heat wave seems to drive everyone into hiding and sends the local kids frolicking through running sprinklers and the community pool. Even you feel the effects of the heat, the corner store’s air conditioning no match for the severity. You hadn’t been expecting anyone to show up, much less your soulmate, and yet he does. When you first hear the bell, you assume it must just be your imagination. That maybe the heat has gotten to you. You’re sluggishly fanning yourself with a magazine, a giant bottle of water beside you. Chan is standing by the door, his face flushed from the summer sun, and despite the brutalness of the outdoors, the smile on his face is so genuine and pure. And there are those damn dimples again.

“Do you have a death wish?” You say playfully. “You should be inside.”

“I am,” he winks. “Is it so wrong that I just wanted to check in on you again? Look’s like you could use the company.”

You smile. Your hands instinctively hide under the counter, attempting to cover the name on your wrist. You’d have to remind yourself to cover it up for now if Chan’s visits would become a regular routine. If he had been anyone else, you would have most definitely rejected the company, but you were alone and wanted nothing more than to leave the store and here Chan was.

“Please,” You say. “I think if I’m alone for another minute, I’ll die of boredom.”

“We can’t have that,” he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Let’s hope you don’t find me incredibly boring.”

You’re anything but, you think to yourself. His name is written on your wrist, after all. You yearn to learn as much about him as you can, to discover who this mysterious name belongs to that you have seen all your life. He stays with you for nearly an hour, talking to you about the city and school. When he leaves, you can’t help but feel disappointed once more but he promises, like usual, that he’ll be back tomorrow.

He doesn’t lie. He comes back and then returns the day after, and the day after that, each time staying for an hour longer. One time he brings a deck of cards that he lays out on the counter in front of you, though the game quickly becomes ignored the more you talk to one another; another time you sit out on the floor in the middle of an aisle, closest to the refrigerators, side-by-side, both basking in the coolness and each other’s company. The more time you spend with him, the quicker you begin to realize just how much you like him. Just how much badly you could fall in love with him.

Soon enough, the summer months have passed. A whole three months and, though you have gotten considerably close with this boy, you have never once told him your secret. He has never asked, and you have never forced him into answering you about the tattoo on his wrist. You never see it either. He either has a bracelet or watch covering his wrist, the only visible ink being a few peaks of black here and there.

Just before the summer break comes to a close, and you find yourself stowed away in the corner store for one of the last times, it begins to rain. Hard. You sit by the counter, gazing out at the desolate world that is being ensued by a raging storm, lightning flashing across the sky and thunder shaking the very ground as if the sky were falling. The store has been empty as per usual and you have been alone for quite some time. You’re thinking about Chan - something you find yourself doing a lot lately. Would you ever tell him the truth? Would you risk losing him forever if you didn’t? The thought terrified you. You know of certain people who marry another person who isn’t the name tattooed on their wrist and though they’re still happy together, it terrifies you to know that you were so close to your soulmate and never once told him who he was to you.

Favouring the idea of closing shop early, you are just flipping the OPEN! sign hanging on the door over so that it reads SORRY, WE’RE CLOSED! and locking the door when you see a figure come dashing around the corner. Squinting your eyes, you’re able to make out the figure as Chan, soaked from head to toe as he rushes toward the store, the hoodie he’s wearing the only poor protection he has on against the storm. He reaches the door just before you can pull away and, of course, he is smiling. When is he ever not? He mouths through the glass for you to unlock the door and you do so with haste, pulling him inside as soon as you can.

“What are you doing?” You exclaim, trying to stifle the laughter that bubbles at your lips. “It’s raining!”

Chan shrugs, pushing the damp hood off his head. He’s dripping water onto the floor but you don’t mind. His hair is wet, hanging low into his eyes before he reaches up to push the strands away. “Is it? I haven’t noticed.”

The playful joke makes you laugh. You shake your head at the boy. “You look absolutely insane.”

“It was worth it to see you,” he says. “I have to tell you something.”

“It couldn’t have waited?” You quirk a brow. “You’re probably going to get a cold now - and just before school starts. Here, let me see if I have something for you to dry yourself off with-”

“Wait! Wait, that can wait.”

His voice is urgent, ecstatic. You had been in the process of turning around when he called out to you. You turn back around and tilt your head to the side, staring up at him with curious eyes. He’s grinning wide but he looks so incredibly nervous. He takes a step towards you, closing the distance. Before you know it, he’s standing right in front of you. His hand reaches out to grasp onto the side of your face and suddenly he’s pulling you towards him, pressing his lips against yours for a kiss you hadn’t been expecting and could hardly prepare yourself for. It happens all it one fell swoop, one split second, but then he’s kissing you and your mind begins to register the feeling of his lips on yours. Soft and warm, tinged with something sweet.

He’s unsure at first, his lips frigid, as if afraid you’ll push him away, but then you find your arms arms wrapping around his neck, hugging him closer to you and he slacks his jaw, deepening the kiss. It doesn’t last for very long because, despite the way your face flushes and warm, despite the way your head spins and your heart hammers against your chest, despite being so enthralled and excited that he’s actually kissing you, you are dumbfounded and surprised. A pleasant surprise, of course. You part from him for a moment, breathless. When you look up at him, his eyes are still focused on your lips, his hand still on your cheek.

“What was that for?” You whisper.

“Right,” he smiles sheepishly, drops his hand from your face and backs up just an inch. His hand finds the end of his sleeve and then he’s yanking it up, revealing his wrist. It takes you a moment to realize that you’re looking at his left wrist, and a moment longer to realize what the name is inked into his wrist.

It’s yours.

Printed neatly and in pretty script is your first and last name, on his skin, on his wrist. A permanent confirmation and sobering thought for you that you are his soulmate. You reach out to his wrist, your fingers tracing your name inked into his flesh. When you look back up at him, he’s gazing at you as if you are the sun.

“When you told me your name at the beginning of summer, I wanted nothing more than to tell you that I’ve known it for my whole life,” he admits. “But I didn’t. I was scared. I was scared we wouldn’t match. I was scared that maybe you wouldn’t like me especially when I found myself falling for you. And not knowing what name is on your wrist didn’t matter to me. It could’ve been my name, it could’ve not been my name, and I still would have fallen for you no matter what.”

He’s speaking fast, his words nervously and excitedly tumbling over one another. He just wants to get every word out, explain himself fully before he loses his chance.

“But then I saw your wrist one day,” he says. “I saw the name. My name. I don’t know why I waited this long to do anything - I guess I was still scared you wouldn’t like me - but I couldn’t wait any longer. I don’t care if I look like a fool because I need you to know how I feel. I need- I need you in my life and I-”

But he doesn’t finish speaking. You don’t let him because in the next second you’re kissing him again. It’s a dizzying kiss, one that makes the world melt away behind you until it is just you and him. His hands find purchase resting on your cheeks, pulling you closer to him, and you completely melt into his chest, ignoring the fact that he is still drenched from head to toe. When you both part moments later, he smiles gently, rests his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry for making you wait,” he says.

You giggle. “I’m sorry for making you wait. I should have said something sooner but I was too nervous.”

With his thumb brushing along your cheekbone, his eyes flicker over your face once more in a soft gaze. He sighs, content and happy. “Thank god you unlocked the door for me.”

This makes you burst out into laughter just before he leans down once more to kiss you again. Despite the small cold that ends up coming over him in the next few days to come, he still doesn’t regret his choice and neither do you. For your entire life, you had wondered who belonged to the name Bang Chan and to find him, whether that be due to fate’s choice or a mere coincidence, was the greatest happenstance you could have ever asked for.