#ignore the people doodles i’ll actually block them in later

[froggtogs]

linked universe wip where i pretend i know what i’m doing and i pray that i’ll actually finish this

[miintsprigz]

Hi again!! Was wonderin if ya could do some hcs of Scout, Pyro, Sniper, Engi, and Medic with a reader who loves to give and show them drawings they made, but gets pretty nervous when they watch them draw? If this isn't exactly yer cuppa tea or you just genuinely do not know how to write this, feel free to just ignore this request:]

Hope you have an excellent day/night/evening/afternoon/noon!!>:DD

Ah, I think I recognize you there! Good to hear from you again. I’ll give it a shot!

GN! Shy Artist Reader x Mercs

Characters: Scout, Pyro, Sniper, Engineer, Medic (TF2)

Warnings: None

Scout ⚾️

• The two of you tend to draw while you hang out, just chatting in the meantime.

• He absolutely adored your work, and loved watching you make it.

• But when you pulled your sketchbook to your chest quick, he seemed confused.

• “Hey! You good?” “Yeah, I uh…I just feel weird when you’re watching me draw.” “Huh? You don’t gotta feel embarrassed, doll!”

• “…You know when you tried to pull off a jump while Spy and Demo were watching the other day…” At this reminder, Scout gave you a teasing scowl—not genuinely mad, just embarrassed remembering that.

• “Ah geez—yeah, if they hadn’t spooked me by starin’ at me like a buncha creeps—oh.” “You get it now?”

• He got…a little confused. “Am I makin’ it worse? Aw man, I’m sorry—” “No, no! I just—that awkwardness? Yeah.” “Ohhh, I think I gotcha…”

•Scout, uh, scooted over on the bed a little and eventually sat back down with his back against yours. “There. This’ll fix it!” Both of you erupted into laughter.

•In all seriousness though, he respected your wishes. He keeps everything you make for him in his room, aside from a small doodle or two that he carries on him to work at all times…awww.

Pyro 🔥

•You and Pyro lay sprawled on the floor, with a can of colored pencils and a box of crayons respectively.

•They’re actually quite good when it comes to color, pairing different hues together. It’s hard to tell exactly what they’re drawing, but sometimes you can faintly make it out.

•You suddenly felt eyes very intently locked onto you and jerked your head up.

• “Hm??”, came through the mask, muffled. “Uh…could you um…”

•They did that curious little head tilt, tenderly reaching for your hand. If you needed to tell them something, they wanted to make sure they heard it!

• “I feel nervous when you watch me draw. I know it’s silly, but—” “Ah!” Genuine surprise from the masked figure. They’d had no idea.

•Immediately, there were muffled apologies from under the mask, quickly hugging you. “Hey hey, it’s okay! I’m not mad. I just figured I should tell you. You’re okay, Py.”

• “Mmph?” “Yes, dear. I promise.” Giggling a little now, they pulled their free hand over the eyeholes of the mask like a visor, blocking you from view. You chuckled along with them.

•Later on, as the two of you shared drawings, you made out a familiar visage—that of you, with a couple bright red hearts drawn nearby. “Hehe, I love you too.”

Sniper 🏹

• Mick didn’t often watch you draw, honestly. The two of you tended to do your own thing in the same space, talking occasionally. Even that was enough.

• Once you caught him watching on what was kind of an off day though. You kind of just stared back up at him.

• Sniper cocked an eyebrow. “Why’d ya stop?” Biting the inside of your cheek, you looked off to the side.

• You felt the bed next to you sink down a little as he moved closer. “Hey. Ya got somethin’ ya wanna say?” His voice was softer, more cautious. “…cuz ya know, I’d like to hear that.”

• Shuffling a bit to get more comfortable next to him, you sighed. “I don’t know how to explain it, but…I feel weird when people watch me draw.” “Yeah?”

• You nodded. “Kinda see what ya mean, I guess. Ya think they’ll judge the work-in-progress?” You silently agreed.

• A slight smile brightened his features. “Well, dunno if it helps, but I know a lil better, love.” His shoulder brushed against yours as you moved a bit closer.

• “I love everythin’ you make. And I know that you know what yer doin. But…if you’re more comfortable with me not lookin’, I get that too. That’s fine.”

• He went to move away, but you quickly clasped his shoulder softly, indicating that he could stay. “Maybe, I could try to keep going?” A laugh broke through as you admitted, “Besides, I like sitting next to you.”

• Humming contently, the Aussie planted the briefest of kisses on the top of your head. “Arright, darlin. You just lemme know.”

• As you kept working on that page, you did notice when he was watching, and it wasn’t easy, but after that he would have periods of staring off into space instead.

• There was a conciseness to it. He’d taken what you’d said to heart. Still, though, he seemed happy…and you were, too.

Engineer 🔧

• Dell had gathered quite a collection of your art by now, kept it on the wall of his workshop. He showed it off proudly to anyone who happened to enter, even if visitors tended to be few and far between.

• One night, you kept him company as he worked overtime on a new design for a model. While he worked, you did too.

• After a while though, you could tell someone was looking at you. As your gaze lifted, you caught him sneaking a peek from his desk, right next to the table where you sat.

• “Aw, did I break yer focus there? Sorry, honey.” “No no, it’s okay, Engie…I could put it away for now anyway, if you want something—”

• “No problem, (Y/N)! You can keep right on with that if ya like.” A somewhat sheepish smile came to your face.

“Hey, Engie…can you keep a secret?”

• “Mmm?” “…I get sorta nervous when people watch me draw.” A knowing sort of smile slowly crossed the Texan’s face, sliding his goggles up to rest on his forehead for a moment.

• “You wanna know a secret?”

“Hmm?”

A nostalgic sort of thoughtfulness crept into his voice. “I used ta be the same way.”

• “Really?” You never pictured the mellow, easygoing Engineer to ever be self-conscious in that way.

“Yup.”

• “People would ask me all sorts a’ questions while they watched me build. ‘How ya gonna make that work?’ ‘What’s that do?’ ‘Why’d ya put that there?’ Drove me crazy. Part of the reason I got a shop, I s’pose.”

• He held a spare nut and bolt, twisting them together and apart as he talked, somewhat absentmindedly. Eyes wandering a bit, but always making their way back to you.

• “But here’s somethin’ I think you oughta hear, although I’d never try ta make ya change. Your work is yours, darlin’. Yours and yours alone. Ya make such beautiful things. I’m not askin’ myself what you’re doin’ when I watch, cuz I already know.”

• He put the fidget aside and reached for your hand with a sweet smile. “Why do you like to watch me work?”

• You could feel your face redden just a bit, and grinned at the floor for a moment. He chuckled at this, in a lighthearted way though. “Cuz it’s really cool how you make everything work, and how smart you are with your designs.”

• “Yep. That’s why I like watchin’ you work. Own the process, (Y/N). It’s all yours. You know exactly what you’re doin.”

• “Thanks, Dell.” “Of course, honey. Of course.” From that moment onward, it seemed like he tried not to watch for too long, but when he did, you remembered his words. And it didn’t feel quite as nerve-wracking then.

Medic 💉

• Medic absolutely loved to watch you draw. It was fascinating to him. Seeing how giddy he got, it took you a while to work up the guts to tell him.

• “Is something wrong, Liebe? You’ve been stopped for a while now.”

“Yeah, uh…Medic, I wanna tell you something, but it’s weird.”

“Oh?”

• “I uh…I feel kinda…nervous, I guess? When people watch me draw.”

“…might I ask why?” He seems genuinely perplexed by this. “I think it’s fascinating.”

• Yeah, yeah he would. You weren’t sure how to explain this to him—you knew for sure that he didn’t mind when people watched him at work, he operated on fully conscious people!

• You sighed softly, unsure of how to make this make sense to him. A hand rested on your shoulder for a moment. “(Y/N), I can see this means a lot to you. And as much as I love watching you at work…I love you even more. So I’ll stop doing that.”

A smile crept up on you, glancing back up at him.

“I appreciate it a lot, love. Sorry I can’t put it into words.”

“No need to be sorry! But…I do have one request.”

“Yeah?”

• A sheepish sort of smile came to the doctor’s face. “I can…still see the finished product, right? And maybe, instead of me watching, you could tell me how you put everything together?”

“Of course! No problem.”

“Ah, wunderbar!”

I’ve been very tired lately so I’m sorry this took me so long, and that it’s sorta short/repetitive. I appreciate your patience!

[fluffi]

MY DETENTION BUDDY :: JAY

pairing: jay x gn!reader genre: fluff, badboy!jay, highschool!au, friends-enemies-lovers!au word count: 2k event: for @lovesick-net​​ and (early) jay day 200421 <3 author’s note: simple little one-shot for jay’s birthday (i wont be uploading anything for his actual birthday). i had to speedrun this fic because i kept changing the plot and this hasnt been proofread twice (unlike my other fics) T-T i hope it’ll still work out. warnings: (reader makes one bad decision)

Ring...ring...ring...ring..ring…

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring

Ringringringringiringringringring.

RIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRRI-SLAM!

The alarm clock stopped its boisterous wailing

10 more minutes. I don’t have to style my hair today.

Thirty minutes passed.

RIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRI- SLAM!

Ugh. I’ll just miss assembly.

RIRIRIIRRIRIRI-

This time, the ringing stopped before he could slam his hand over the alarm clock.

“Jongseong, do you not have school today?” Jay could only make out a bush of black that stood above him as he sat up, dazed and drowsy.

“Yeah, I do. I’m about to get ready. Why?”

“It’s 9 am! You should be at school! At this point, you don’t even have to go anymore.” His mother huffed in disappointment.

It was an exaggeration, but she had a point. School started at eight in the morning. It was already an hour later but he was still sitting in bed.

“I’ll get ready now. 10 minutes. Good to go.” He shooed his mom away, already running to the bathroom to wash up.

“I’m leaving now Jay. You know darn well that I have an important meeting today and I can’t miss it just for you to not get a tardy. Heck, you’re already late! You’re-”

“Mom! I can’t walk to school! It takes too long.” Jay whined as he brushed his teeth, his muffled voice interrupting his mother’s speech.

“Young man, stop interrupting me. I told you a week ago about today’s event and it’s not my fault that my oldest son can’t take care of himself. You’re going to have to take another mode of transport, you’re old enough to deal with this yourself!” With that, his mother stormed out of his room, her feet obnoxiously thumping on the floor.

“I’m also your only son...” Jay muttered. 

Of all days, why did she have to have her meeting today? Monthly evaluations aren’t that important. Dangit, I should’ve been taught how to drive. Jay returned to his rapid multitasking, grabbing his school uniform while washing his face. He didn’t even look twice,

After taking the quickest shower he had ever taken in his entire life and shoving all of his essential (what he determined as essential, at least) belongings into his bag, he opened to door and dashed outside only to be met with…

Rain.

Rain everywhere. Drenching the front yard’s perfectly tended flower garden and creating heaps of watery mud. It was pouring at 9.15 am. There was thunder and occasional flashes of light zooming through the clouds. The city was in shambles.

Not like, shamble, shambles. It was shambles in Jay’s opinion as he groaned and stomped his way through the rain.

Screw school. Screw this stupid rain, screw my alarm clock, screw this-

“Dude, why are you running in the rain? You’re soaked. Are you heading to school?” A pink-haired boy in a red Ferrari shouted from across the street.

Jay sighed in relief, immediately running across the road to said Ferrari. “Choi Yeonjun. You are a life-saver. Could I get a ride real quick? I’ll pay back for engine fees and for soaking the inside of your Ferrari with rainwater.”

“Hop right in, and don’t worry about returning. Let’s have some fun with this baby.” Yeonjun smirked and revved the engine, swerving past cars and buildings like it was a little RPG game.

At this rate, I’ll make it to school in no time.

“Dude, I’m so sorry. I guess you have to walk.”

Just as he thought things were taking a better turn, Yeonjun decides to show off his new driving skills and zooms through roads at a rapid speed, so fast that he crashed the car by a tree. It was a miracle that both of them didn’t get hurt but as far as Jay was concerned, he could worry about that some other time. This was just slowing him down on his long and tedious journey towards his form of hell.

On the bright side, the rain had stopped and the sunshine was back as if nothing had happened.

“I’ll get going to school.” Jay internally groaned and started sprinting in the direction of his school.

“Hey, at least I helped you get closer to school! Didn’t I?” Yeonjun shouted from behind and coyly smiled.

Such a boastful punk, Jay thought. “Whatever, bro!” He turned back and gave his older friend a quick wave before dashing off.

“Park Jongseong! You’re late...again.”

“I’m aware.” Jay didn’t spare his English teacher an eye and slung his backpack over the chair, about to take a seat.

“Stop giving me attitude, I’m your teacher.Why are you tardy for the fourth time this month?”

“Alarm clock.”

“Alarm clock what? Are you afraid to speak up? I don’t see you acting like this in the hallways.”

Jay looked down at his feet and sighed before side-eyeing his teacher. “Overslept, okay? Sir if you could just let me off the hook you would be able to proceed with your Shakespeare nonsense.”

The entire class snickered. It was no secret that Jay loathed Mr. Jung, the English teacher. Who didn’t? Mr. Jung treated every student in school like they were incapable toddlers and it was a wonder that anyone would dare to stand up to his stupid remarks. Jay’s carefree attitude towards his horrible teachers was one of the reasons why he earned so many fangirls.

Not like you were one, of course. You watched as he pulled his chair out and sat next to you out of the three other vacant seats at the back of the class.

Mr. Jung rolled his eyes and continued writing on the blackboard. “Also, Jongseong,” he added, “you’re wearing your school shirt the wrong way round. See you in detention for your tardiness.”

A few of the girls in a few seats in front of him whispered rapidly, although whispering didn’t stop Jay from finding out about their gossip.

“Lol! So much for being the bad boy of our grade. He looks like a wreck today.”

“I know right? I wonder what the other fangirls will think of this. Should we send the pictures to the fan club?”

The second girl giggled. “Yeah, duh. Name it jay-park-wreck-images.”

So much for my reputation. Jay could only roll his eyes as he pulled out his supplies, ignoring the camera clicks coming from the seats in front of him.

“Oh, yay. At least I’ll have a detention buddy now.”

Jay eyed you up and down like your statement was some sort of monstrosity. “Detention? You, detention? Pfft.” He laughed.

“Yeah, Jay. Me, detention. Why are you so happy about it? Glad to be stuck with another girl?”

“What, no-no. You just...don’t seem like the type to be in detention. How’d you get it?”

“This..may be kind of embarrassing, but...” You turned to the side and Jay gasped.

On the sleeve of your uniform was a...rabbit? It wasn’t too obvious as to what the marker doodle was but it was apparent that you had intentionally spent time to draw on it.

“Look, I was bored in assembly this morning and found a spare marker in my pocket! Don’t judge, we all know how bad assembly can be.” You blurted just as Jay was about to ask why you had done what you did.

“You could’ve just drawn on your hand or done something else with the marker.” Jay sighed and shook his head at your dumb decision.

“I was out of my mind, okay? Ugh, Assembly always drives me nuts. I got called out for for the horrendous ink bleed when Mr. Jung saw as I walked into the classroom. He said it ‘didn’t follow school guidelines’.”

“For once, I agree with Mr. Jung. It was a stupid choice, you know? If you didn’t draw on your uniform then you wouldn’t have to go to detention now.”

“Jay Park, the bad boy of school, is telling me to be a rule abider. Biggest twist of the century.” You rolled your eyes.

Jay frowned and turned back at you, losing that little spark in his eyes that he once kept. “I’m not a bad boy you know? I just don’t like the system in place here.”

“As if anyone is going to believe that. Go hang out with another girl of yours. I’m not here to be your toy.”

“People like you are the reason why everyone thinks I’m a bad person. I thought you were different, you know?”

You had been preoccupied with taking notes for class, but now you looked at him with squinted eyes. “Well, I am different. Different as In someone who doesn’t fall for your useless charms. Go suck up to your fangirls or something.”

Jay rolled his eyes and scooted away from you. He thought he had been lucky to meet you, but he guessed not.

You always do this, you idiot. You were so close to making a new friend.

You put your hands in your head and side-eyed Jay, who seemed to be struggling as Mr. Jung blurted out an entire unit’s summary.

The boy hadn’t brought any stationery and was definitely on the wrong page of the textbook. You figured that he was this disheveled from his absolute lack of planning but you still felt bad.

His hair was a mess, it was still damp from the rain before. If only you could help him style it…

Why do I want to touch his hair? That’s weird and gross.

You were so occupied with thinking about Jay that you realized that he was still struggling in class.

Maybe you could make things better.

“I’m sorry.”

Jay was struggling to find the page you guys were on for class when a pencil blocked his view.

“What do you want?” He said as he tried to look past your pencil swinging.

“It’s a pencil for you since I realized that your table is practically empty and you’re going to need something to take notes with for later. Also, it’s page 153, not 53.” You leaned over to help him flip the pages.

“Oh, that makes so much more sense. I was wondering why we were relearning unit 3 when finals aren’t even near yet.”

You raised your eyebrows, looking up at a relieved Jay. “So you do pay attention in class.”

“Of course I do! I’m a student. You should stop using that stereotype on me.” Jay frowned and a tinge of disappointment shadowed his face.

“Right, I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying to work on it, it’s rumors and assumptions that have built up over the past few years and I understand that it shouldn’t get in the way of our friendship.”

“Friendship? We have a friendship?” Jay chuckled and cocked an eyebrow up, teasing you.

Maybe it was that eyebrow slit or the weird tension that was building up between the both of you. You felt your face heat up. “I mean- yeah, friendship. Are we not friends?”

“I don’t know, hun. I thought we were something more.”

“Um...best...friends?”

It was perfect timing as the bell rang and you immediately started packing things into your bag, eyes glued to the clock instead of the amused boy next to you.

Jay laughed, running his hands through his blonde locks and watching as you started running out of class, your eyes occasionally looking back at him to see if he was still staring at you.

“See you in detention!” He called, drawing the attention of your classmates.

Jay Park needs to learn how to shut his mouth. Everyone was now staring at you and you were flustered, embarrassed, shocked, and confused. The weird mix of emotions were driving you nuts. All you could muster was a little nod and you dashed out of there as fast as you could.

“Today we’re going to learn about Murphy’s Law. It is where anything that can go wrong will go wrong.”

“But everything that can work, will work.” Jay raised his hand and added, sparing a glance at you jotting notes in the back of the classroom, oblivious to his reference towards you.

“You’re right Jay. Murphy’s Law works both ways. Reversing it is considered part of science…”

Today morning was a storm (figuratively and literally) and everything seemed to be going wrong for Jay. Murphy’s Law prevails. but there’s always a rainbow after the storm. You were his rainbow and his lucky charm.

2021 © fluffi

[renjuseyo]

Can I request a Lucas x male reader where Lucas is trying to ask reader to prom but reader always gets distracted by friends or is too busy with school activities. Then when Lucas gets the chance to reader says no. But reader surprised Lucas with a date at the place Lucas asked him to be his boyfriend. P.S. They are already together for 2 years. P.P.S. I love your writings stay healthy and make sure to take care of yourself

-🧍🏽‍♂️

prom ; lucas

group: nct / wayv / superm

pairing: wong yukhei / reader (male)

synopsis: yukhei only has one goal in mind: to ask you out to prom in the most perfect way possible.

genre: fluff

i had a bit of writer’s block with this one, but i hope this is what you wanted anon! ^^ as always, feedback is greatly appreciated~~

“my plan is absolutely foolproof. there’s no possible way it could fail.”

“that’s what fools say.”

yukhei climbs to a seated position on his bed, folding his arms in a huff. “why would you say that, dude? way to encourage a guy.”

yangyang doesn’t even bat an eye, adding details to a sheep he’s doodling on his economics assignment. “well, when you put it like that, it’s going to spite the universe and make your plan fall apart on its head.”

dejun nods in agreement, tapping on his phone. he’s probably texting that guy he’s been eyeing from his history class, or playing solitaire like the old man he is at heart. “the universe loves playing tricks on happy, unsuspecting people.” he sets his phone down to look straight at yukhei. “happy, unsuspecting people like you. i love your confidence, but i’m just saying. don’t get all mopey if something does happen.”

he crosses his legs, pouting. “i get what you’re saying, but come on, how can a simple promposal go wrong?” dejun and yangyang give him a knowing look, one that screams there are several things that could go wrong, actually. “if it were a big, extravagant one, maybe, but come on. i’m taking (name) out to sushi and bringing him a bouquet of flowers. what’s the worst that could happen?”

“well, he could get food poisoning from the sushi.”

“or he pricks himself from the flowers.”

“or he-”

“i didn’t literally ask you guys!” yukhei interrupts, exasperated. dejun and yangyang give him a mischievous smirk. “you two are horrible.”

yangyang blows him an air kiss. “just here to give you a reality check, my love.”

the two had originally gone over to yukhei’s house for a study party, but seeing how dejun was on his bedroom floor playing solitaire, and yangyang was doodling sheep all over his assignment, they were doing anything but. somewhere along their “study session”, someone had brought up the topic of prom, which was to happen in four weeks. while the two of them had no big plans for promposals (because dejun is waiting for the guy from his history class to make the first move, and yangyang is perfectly content being single), yukhei had constructed a plan to ask his boyfriend of two years to prom.

yangyang sets his pencil down and spins around from his seat. “what happened to your love for big, extravagant promposals? i remember you gushing about that kind of stuff all the time,” he comments.

“(name) doesn’t like being in the spotlight. i think i’ll just make him uncomfortable if i pull one of those stunts with people nearby,” yukhei explains. he would be lying if he said he’s never thought of creating the most memorable promposal for him. hey, it’s not his fault he just wants to flaunt his cute boyfriend for the world to see.

dejun and yangyang nod in understanding, except they don’t, because they relish in the spotlight. “well, prom is in four weeks. will you even have the time to ask him?” dejun asks. “your boyfriend practically drowns himself in homework. plus, he’s on the student council.”

“we both may be busy with school and clubs, but mark my words when i say i’ll get to him!”

“well, as taken as you and your boyfriend are, i hope you realize that there are still people who’ll be lining up to ask you two,” yangyang points out.

yukhei pats his chest, a confident smile making it way back to his lips. “i’m not worried that someone else will woo him. he has me, after all!”

yangyang gags. “gross. i feel sorry for him.”

dejun nods in agreement, cringing. “me too... yangyang, come on, let’s actually be studious and do our homework, unlike that one there,” he sneers, pulling out a pen from his pencil pouch.

yukhei looks at them, exasperated. “oh now you two choose to do your homework?! where was this attitude when i told you two to work on it earlier?!” he exclaims.

dejun shrugs. “i have no idea what you’re talking about. as far as i’m concerned, yangyang and i are students who actually focus on our work.” he gestures at himself and said boy, but the way he’s hunched over his economics assignment doodling more sheep completely contradicts his words. “seriously yangyang? work with me here!” he shrieks, smacking his back.

the younger hisses in pain, glaring at him. “leave me alone! let me draw in peace!”

the older snorts, swiping his pencil away from him. yangyang makes a noise of protest, lunging at dejun to retrieve his pencil, and soon the two are engaged in a fight, limbs tangled together. yukhei can only watch in disappointment. sure, he’s chaotic, but his energy is no match for them. their energy seems to multiply when the two of them are together.

yukhei turns his attention back to the calculus textbook on his lap, ignoring the fight ensuing before him. though his mind is mainly focused on the problems on the pages, a part of him recalls dejun’s words. there isn’t many reasons for him to be worried about his plans backfiring, but then again, the universe has always loved to meddle with people’s affairs. he just hopes it will treat him kindly this time around.

though it’s your final year of high school, you and yukhei only share one class together, to his dismay. even in the hour he gets to spend with you, you’re too busy focusing on the lesson at hand. there’s always lunchtime, too, but both of you have your own respective friend groups, so even if you two are dating, you two spend more time eating with your friends than with each other. he doesn’t really mind, but now that he plans on enacting his plan, not seeing you often will make things harder.

after the bell rings, signalling the beginning of lunch, he makes a beeline out of the door and dashes towards the cafeteria. thanks to a secret source (which is really just shotaro and really isn’t a secret), he learns that you usually eat lunch on the roof of the school.

when he pushes open the door to the roof, he’s relieved to see you with your friends. at the sound of a newcomer, you all turn to look at the door. “yukhei?” you ask, surprised.

his smile widens upon seeing you. “hey (name)!” he chirps.

your friend sungchan raises a brow. “not often we see you here, lucas. do you need something?” he asks.

“yeah, i actually need to talk to you, (name).”

you stand up, slinging your backpack over his shoulder. “sorry, can it wait? we kind of have plans,” you tell him. 

yukhei gives them a quizzical look, which doesn’t go unnoticed by you or your friends. “it’s jisung’s birthday today,” jaemin explains. “we’re treating him to food later.”

he recognizes the name; jisung is a first year student who has become increasingly popular thanks to his position on the dance team. he’s also one of your friends and someone you tutor. now that he thinks about it, he recalls yangyang mentioning something about his birthday this morning, but he didn’t pay much attention. maybe he should have. “oh, okay. well, are you free later today?” he asks, sending you a hopeful look.

judging from your apologetic smile, he already can guess the answer is no. “sorry, we’re holding a surprise party for him later. i think i’m probably going to stay over at his house, too.”

renjun, who’s standing beside you, gags. “you two are so sweet, it’s kind of sickening.”

you turn to glare at him, who snickers at your look. “how? and you’re one to talk, mr. i-miss-jeno-even-though-i-saw-him-twenty-minutes-ago,” you spit. his expression is quick to contort to one of embarrassment, spluttering at the name of his boyfriend. yukhei feels like you don’t even realize his presence anymore.

to regain your attention, he clears his throat. “can you spare just a minute? i promise it’ll be quick.”

you turn to face him, but not before sticking your tongue out at a glowering renjun. “oh, s-” you’re cut off when your phone dings, and you glance at the screen to read the notification. a few seconds later, you look back up at him. “on second thought, i don’t think i can, sorry. chenle just texted me saying he and jisung just left mr. jung’s classroom. we should get going now.”

your friends nod and begin packing their belongings. once they’re all set, they walk towards the doorway leading back into the building, where he’s standing. they all pour into the small doorway, leaving you and yukhei alone. “sorry, how about next time?”

yukhei nods. it’s not like he can stop you from celebrating your friend’s birthday, unless he wants to be perceived as a jerk. “no worries, go celebrate jisung’s birthday. make his day a memorable one,” he reassures, smiling.

making sure your friends are far enough, you lean forward and peck him on the lips, catching him off guard. once you lean back, you smirk upon seeing his flustered expression. “catch you another time~”

and with that, you jog back inside to catch up to your friends, leaving a blushing yukhei behind. sure, his first attempt didn’t quite go the way he expected, but he’s not particularly disappointed, considering how he got a kiss from you. plus, there are plenty of other times to ask you again.

perhaps asking you to prom might be harder than yukhei had anticipated.

after jisung’s birthday, he had waited to catch you again when you were free, but you were occupied with homework, as well as duties of being on the student council. apparently jisung’s birthday was the only day you were free. as much as he sympathizes with you, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. he hasn’t even been able to talk to you, let alone treat you to a proper meal.

after several weeks of not talking to you, he decides it’s time to take matters into his own hands. if he can’t take you out on a proper date, then he’ll just bring it to you! after inquiring his friends yerim and mark for your schedule, he learns that fridays are normally your free days. he recalls the previous fridays where you were too busy to hang out with him, catching up on projects and avoiding deadlines, so he hopes that this friday you’ll be free.

after school one afternoon, yukhei catches you by your locker, talking to two people he recognizes from the student council. as soon as you see him, you wave the two farewell, and they go their separate ways. he leans against your locker door, smiling down at you. “hello my sweet~” he greets.

though you smile back at him, he can tell you’re drained, judging from the way your eyes flutter close and the yawn that rips out of your throat. “hi,” you greet. “sorry, it’s been a long week.”

he watches as you sluggishly shut the door. “tired?” he asks, draping an arm over your shoulder.

he hums in delight as you lean into his arm, warm and snug. “that’s an understatement,” you tiredly sigh. “i thought being the secretary was easier than the president, but i’m exhausted. all this filing and meetings can really kick a guy’s ass. i finally finished my biology report, but i still have to study for the history test that’s on tuesday. i don’t know how mark does it, being the president and captain of the basketball team. he doesn’t even have bad grades, either.”

yukhei laughs upon hearing you rant, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. “i’m sure it must be hard. do you think your tired self is up for sushi, though?”

at the mention of food, you instantly perk up. “you know i can never say no to food.”

once you two walk out of the building, pushing through the swarms of students gathered by the entrance, you both head towards the bus stop. five minutes later, you both board the bus and are lucky enough to snag seats. in the ten minutes it takes to get to the sushi restaurant you two often frequent, he’s surprised to see you fast asleep on his shoulder. you really must be tired, because you don’t normally fall asleep so quickly.

ten minutes later, he nudges you awake (he has to refrain from pinching your cheeks at your dazed state), and you both step off the vehicle. five minutes of walking later, you approach the restaurant. for a friday evening, he supposes he’s lucky to have gotten there without it being packed.

you both greet the waitress by the entrance, who leads you both to a booth near the back. after serving you both your beverages and menus, she slinks away, presumably to attend to other patrons. as you browse through the menu, wondering what to order, yukhei glances at you, who seems too concentrated on the menu before you to notice him. he mentally reviews his plan for what seems to be the twentieth time today: order food, eat, pretend to go to the restroom and head to the flower shop next door, and woo you into going to prom with him. what could possibly go wrong?

(upon saying this statement, he learns that’s the worst possible thing you could say. at least, if you want the universe to mess with your plans.)

after discussing what you two will order, he waves down the waitress from earlier, who gets both of your orders. you two spend around five minutes catching up on your lives, talking about upcoming events and games at school. soon your food arrives, and you both dig in. he doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you until he sees the way your eyes twinkle as you happily recall the time the vending machine malfunctioned and gave you two bags of skittles instead of one. it’s endearing, seeing you get excited over the little things.

as you pluck some calamari out of a small bowl, he realizes it’s time to put his plan in action. “hey (name), i’m going to the bathroom. feel free to order some more food if you want, it’s all on me~”

“when you put it that way, it’s like you’re begging to go broke,” you joke, though you nod nonetheless. yukhei gets up and makes a beeline to the restroom. he stands in front of the entrance, peeking behind the wall to make sure you don’t see him. a few seconds later, he quietly sneaks back towards the entrance. luckily, you’re too occupied with the food to notice him.

he steps out of the store and heads straight for the flower shop next door. when he steps inside, the bell above the door jingles, signalling a newcomer. “welcome to yong’s flowers~!” a florist chirps.

“hey hyung,” he greets. the florist turns away from a pot of tulips, revealing a bright smile and even brighter hair. “i came here for the flowers i was telling you about.”

the florist nods, heading towards the back. when he returns, he brandishes a bouquet of red roses to him. “here you go!”

when yukhei moves his hand to his pocket, the florist waves a dismissive hand. “don’t worry about it, it’s on the house. i hope things go well with you and (name)~” he hums, giving him a cheeky smirk.

normally he would decline the kind offer, but he needs to get back to the restaurant soon, otherwise you’ll get suspicious. “thanks, taeyong-hyung. i’ll pay you back next time! wish me luck!” with that, he waves him farewell and exits the store.

he runs straight back to the restaurant, bouquet in hand. the waitress from earlier seems to notice the new addition, sending him a knowing smile. he pays no mind to it though, simply heading straight to you. he notices three new plates on the table, but hey, he isn’t complaining. you haven’t had the chance to properly eat the past week, if you count salads as a proper meal. when you look up from your salmon belly, your eyes widen at the roses in his hands.

it’s now or never, he supposes. he sits on his seat, bashfully sliding the bouquet to you. “i’ve been wanting to do this for the past week, but you’ve been pretty busy, so i haven’t been able to catch you alone. but (name) (last name), would you do me the honor of being my prom date?” he asks, sending you a hopeful look and a bright smile to top off the look.

silence envelops the room, save for chefs yelling and the stove roaring back in the kitchen. from the corner of his eyes, yukhei realizes that the lack of patrons means extravagant movements like his are bound to be noticed by everyone. plus, he wasn’t exactly quiet when he popped the question. he usually doesn’t care, anyways, thriving in the attention. even now, he has nothing to be worried about. besides, he knows what your answer will be.

apparently not.

eyes still wide, you slowly remove the wooden chopsticks from your lips, placing it on your empty plate. he assumes your eyes are still wide out of shock, but when the silence gets too loud for his liking, his smile falters. “(name)...?”

you rapidly blink back to reality. “oh, right, sorry. um...” you take in your surroundings, and he suddenly wonders if this was too flashy for your liking. he watches you with bated breath; you look like you’re doing some mental calculations, eyebrows furrowed like they are when you encounter a particularly difficult question on a test. after you ponder the several options laid out in your head, you take a deep breath, giving him your most sincere look. “i’m sorry, i don’t think i can accept this.”

those nine words and thirty-one letters are enough to crush yukhei’s spirit, evident by the way he visibly deflates. he quickly regains his composure, hoping the smile he has is enough to assure you he’s fine. but from the way you grimace, he can tell he’s doing a poor job at it. “it’s not your fault yukhei, i promise! it’s just...” your voice falters, and the same, contemplative look from earlier returns. “i have something important i have to do that day. i’m sorry.”

no one seems to have seen this rejection coming, and he mentally reprimands himself for thinking of every scenario except the one where you reject him. apparently he looks so devastated that the curious eyes from earlier immediately turn their attention elsewhere, probably not wanting to put him in the spotlight any further. sure, he feels embarrassed, but most importantly, he’s curious. what could you possibly have to do on prom? it’s a friday night, meaning you should be free... maybe you’re occupied with student council duties? but if that’s the case, you would just tell him that. there’s no reason to hide it.

maybe you just don’t want to go with him.

the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth, but he tries to shake it off. “oh, okay. don’t worry about it,” he says, tone flat. you try to change the topic and compliment the roses and thank him for the food, but no matter what you say, the ugly feeling of disappointment still settles itself in his stomach.

the rest of your dinner is relatively uneventful. yukhei doesn’t want to make you feel more guilty than you already feel, so he tries his best to engage himself in your conversations. after you two eat your fill, he pays for you both (and is surprised to see that the waitress from earlier docks off the price of a few plates. does he really look that pitiful?) and leaves the restaurant. the sun has set, and it won’t be long before the sky darkens.

he approaches the bus stop, waiting for your bus to take you home. “well, i guess we part ways now. see you next week?” he asks.

you nod, clutching the bouquet of roses in your hands. though you had rejected his promposal, he still pushed you to take the roses, claiming he wouldn’t have anywhere to place them at home when in reality, he just didn’t want to be reminded of his failure. “yeah.” you send him another apologetic smile. “again, i’m really sorry. i promise you it isn’t because of you, it’s just...” your voice trails off again. “i have plans.”

he makes the mistake of wondering if these plans mean you’ve accepted someone else’s offer. no, that can’t be it... we’ve been dating for two years. he wouldn’t just accept someone else’s offer. (name) isn’t like that, he attempts to reason. pushing these thoughts away before he says something he’ll regret, he nods. “don’t worry about it, it’s okay.” as if on cue, the bus begins to roll up in front of you two before coming to a halt. “well, your bus is here. get home safe.”

you smile, letting a few people off before boarding the bus. “you too. thanks for the meal and the flowers,” you thank.

he waves, making sure you’re safely aboard before beginning his journey back home. as he does, his phone goes off a few times, and when he checks them, he sees messages from taeyong, dejun, and yangyang. he assumes they’re texting to see how things turned out with you and him.

yukhei pockets his phone and continues walking.

after that failed promposal, yukhei distances himself from you for a few days. seeing you will only bring unwarranted frustration, and the last thing he wants is to blame you for something that isn’t your fault. he decides to distract himself by hanging out with his friends. while his friends prove to be a useful distraction, he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss you.

no one knows why you’ve turned down his promposal. everyone who knew about his not-so-secret plan had fully expected you to accept with open arms. even your friends were genuinely shocked. as they chattered among themselves, wondering what could have prompted the rejection (because what secretive plans could you possibly have during prom?), he noticed that only renjun and sungchan remained silent. looking back, perhaps they knew more than they let on, but at the moment, he was too focused on getting answers from your friends to notice.

it’s been two weeks since that incident, and there are only two more weeks until prom. dejun and yangyang had came over for a sleepover, and right now he’s lying upside-down on his bed, listening to dejun rant about how history boy (who he later learns goes by hendery) finally asked him out to prom. yangyang’s sitting beneath him, scrolling through tiktok, unamused.

“it wasn’t anything extravagant. he asked me for a pencil like usual, and who am i to say no?” dejun begins.

yangyang shoots him an incredulous look. “anyone who asks you for a pencil everyday without making an effort to bring their own are just pathetic. didn’t you say he forgot to give you back your nice mechanical pencils for a week?”

he rolls his eyes. “yeah, but he paid me back by buying me a pack of twelve. and they were the nice papermate ones, too! anyways, as i was saying,” he continues, “i gave it to him like normal, and class went by as usual. but when he was returning it to me after class, there was a note attached to it asking me to prom-”

“and you’re swooning over that? i took you for someone who cried over love confessions in the rain, not promposals written on lined paper during history,” yangyang interrupts again. now that yukhei thinks about it, it does sound a little funny. like him, dejun has always liked romantic gestures. he never would’ve thought a written note would be the thing to sweep him off his feet.

he huffs in embarrassment, glaring at the younger. “be quiet. when you have someone to actually swoon over, you’ll understand what i mean.”

yangyang rolls his eyes. “good thing i’ll be single forever.”

now that they’re on the subject of promposals, he makes the mistake of thinking back to two weeks ago. “i’m glad to hear that you’re happy. i hope you’ll have fun with hendery,” he comments.

at this, dejun and yangyang quickly turn to face him. they seem to have remembered the incident, too, evident from the guilty look in their eyes. “i’m sorry, i forgot...” dejun’s voice trails off, and yukhei suddenly wants to erase the pitying look in his eyes.

instead, he waves a dismissive hand. “it’s all good. if it comes down to it, i’ll just take yangyang with me, right?”

yangyang shrugs. “or we can just stay at my place and binge video-games and order pizza.” he pauses to ponder his suggestion before shrugging. now that he doesn’t plan on taking you, there’s no reason to go and spend the night dancing in a stuffy suit.

just then, his phone buzzes. when he glances to read the new notification, he expects everything except a message from you. since that event, you both hadn’t talked to each other very often. while it was probably because you were swamped with school and student council duties, he can’t help but wonder if you were avoiding him like he was with you.

(name) <3: hey! are you busy right now? [06:59 PM]

“who is it?” yangyang asks, sitting up to peek over his shoulder. yukhei doesn’t move his phone away fast enough, because then the younger frowns. “(name) finally texted you after what, weeks of not talking to you?”

he frowns. “in his defense, i was doing the same, too.”

“yeah, but you had a reason to. because you were upset,” dejun corrected. “did he seriously not once question why you suddenly stopped talking to him?”

he rolls his eyes. “you two make it sound more serious than it actually is. plus, he’s been busy with school. it’s not like his world revolves around me.” he pointedly decides to not add the part where it’s the opposite for him.

you: what do you need? :) [07:00 PM]

yangyang snorts. “with a smiley? dude, you’re whipped.”

“shut up.”

(name) <3: i was wondering if you could meet me at the gym at school in an hour? i’m pretty sure i left something by the bleachers, and i don’t really want to go alone;;; [07:04 PM]

yukhei raises a questioning eyebrow. did you seriously not notice how he had been avoiding you? you’ve always been sharp, so this was surprising. dejun, who’s now seated on his opposite side, seems to notice this, too. “wow, he’s really acting like nothing happened. if he knew you were upset with him, he wouldn’t have contacted you in the first place.”

“if he left something in the gym, it’s not a surprise he’d ask me. i have a spare key to the gym, after all.”

“why do you have it? shouldn’t that be mark?”

he shrugs. “he always loses his things, so he told me to hold on to it.”

yangyang nudges his shoulder. “well? what are you going to tell him?”

of course yukhei’s going to go. it’s almost dark, so it’s not safe for anyone to be out by themselves. plus, as disappointed as he is with his botched attempt of a promposal, it’s you. he can never get mad at people for long, much less if it’s you.

you: sure~ do you need a ride there? [07:06 PM]

(name) <3: no, but thanks for the offer ^^ see you then! [07:08 PM]

he turns off his phone and looks up at his friends, who are looking at him with an expectant look. “don’t give me that look. it’ll be quick, i promise.”

yangyang rolls his eyes. “that’s what you said last time, and then you ended up sleeping over at (name)’s house. do you know how awkward it was, telling your mom that you practically ditched us?”

an hour later, yukhei waves farewell to dejun and yangyang, who decided to play video-games in his room to pass time. as he gets into his car and drives back to their school, he wonders what you could’ve possibly forgotten that was so important.

ten minutes later, he parks to a stop and gets out of his car. after locking it, he walks towards the gym, though he sees no signs of you.

you: hey, i just got here. are you here yet? :0 [08:20 PM]

not long after, you reply back.

(name) <3: hey!! sorry, i’ll be right there [08:20 PM]

unsure of what to do to pass time, yukhei leans against the gym doors. out of curiosity, he decides to rattle the handle to see if it’s actually locked. to his shock, the door swings open upon being pushed, leading him to a pitch black room. the alarms installed in his head, the ones from being tricked into a haunted house by his friends, go off in his head, but unsurprisingly, curiosity trumps his fear. thus, mustering all of the courage in him, he shakily turns on the flashlight on his phone and timidly steps into the gymnasium.

it’s dark and empty, like it should be. so why were the doors unlocked, he wonders? the janitor at school is quite meticulous, so he couldn’t have looked over unlocked doors. maybe...

no, this is not a horror movie, he stubbornly thinks to himself. don’t scare yourself like that! as if on cue, a loud thud echoes throughout the gym, and he stills, unable to move a single limb. this is it. oh my god, am i going to die?

from what yukhei can tell, there seems to be two - maybe three - guys, distinctly whispering among themselves by the corner. the alarms from earlier are urging him to bolt out of the gym and tell you he couldn’t make it, but fear takes over, and he’s frozen.

“...sungchan, you idiot! you’re going to give up our position!” a familiar voice hisses.

“it’s not my fault it’s too dark! you know long limbs and the dark don’t mix well together!” another whispers.

wait. now that he can hear them, the voices sound a lot like renjun’s and sungchan’s.

“renjun? sungchan?” yukhei nervously calls out. because as familiar as those voices are, they could very well be impostors that plan on killing him in the middle of the night. “is that you two?”

he can practically hear them freeze; if the lights were on, they’d probably be comically staring at each other with wide eyes. suddenly, a third voice can be heard. “i knew i should’ve asked jeno or jaemin instead,” he quietly grumbles.

he knows that voice all too well.

before he can say another word, the lights suddenly switch on, blinding him. a few seconds after he’s adjusted to the light, he blinks, and sees you standing underneath the basketball hoop, head buried behind a poster board and a bouquet of red tulips with rose petals scattered by your feet. renjun and sungchan are standing by the light switch, awkwardly waving at him. when he turns his attention back to you, his eyes widen at the poster. there are doodles of hearts and basketballs on its borders, but it’s the words in the middle that catches his attention.

will you go to prom with me?

“what... what is all of this?” yukhei asks, dumbfounded.

seeing how you’re flushed with embarrassment, refusing to remove your head from the poster, renjun steps up. “it’s a promposal. what else could this be?”

his eyes wander back to your shrunken frame, and he can see you timidly peeking behind the poster board. “um... surprise?”

still stunned, he slowly walks to you, shoes brushing against the rose petals. “i can tell... but, i thought...?”

knowing what’s to come, you sheepishly smile. “i spent a long time trying to come up with something that you’d like, since i know you like big, romantic gestures. i turned you down because i wanted to be the one who asked you,” you explain, fiddling with the bouquet.

“wait, wait. when you said you had plans that day...?”

“i was lying,” you laugh. “i didn’t expect you to ask me, so i just came up with a lame excuse on the whim. i’m really sorry for upsetting you, but i didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

now yukhei knows why renjun and sungchan were so quiet the day he asked your friends about your alleged plans on prom. there are still a few questions he has, but he’s relieved to see everything led to this surprise. at least now he doesn’t need to fret about his insecurities.

“how’d you get in here?” he asks, intertwining his fingers with yours.

you hum, relishing this newfound warmth. “i begged the janitor to leave the doors unlocked. i told him you had keys, and he knows that i’m more reliable compared to others,” you answer.

“so all of the times when you said you were busy...”

you laugh, throwing your head back. “that was the one thing i wasn’t lying about. school and the student council really was kicking my ass.” you point your chin towards renjun and sungchan, who wave. “they helped me with some of the preparations, like ordering the flowers and making the poster.”

yukhei nods. “everything makes so much more sense now... but i just have one more question.” you look at him with curious eyes. “why the gym of all places?”

you shoot him an incredulous look. “did you seriously forget?” judging by the confused look he gives you, you can tell he really did. “you remember the game against the jyp team two years ago, before basketball season ended?” he nods. “right before you guys played them, you pointed straight at me and asked me to be your boyfriend if you guys won.”

he flushes at the memory; in a stand jam-packed with spectators, he remembers only having eyes on you, the cute boy from algebra. prior to that game, you two were already acquainted, even going on a few dates here and there. there was an obvious attraction between you two, but no one had officially initiated anything until that day. he remembers you spluttering in embarrassment, having nearly everyone bore their eyes into you, as well as coming scarily close to losing against the opposing team. but alas, he and his team had triumphed, and while they celebrated, you bashfully accepted his offer and spent way too long making out in the back of his car.

he can’t believe he forgot that he had asked you to be his in this exact place two years ago.

he’s pulled out of his head when you clear your throat, brandishing the bouquet of tulips before him. “you never answered my question,” you whisper.

yukhei doesn’t even need to think about his answer. “of course it’s a yes,” he exclaims, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips. you giggle against them, wrapping your arms around his neck. there’s cheering from across the room, but he only sees you. right now, you’re standing before him, suddenly brighter than ever, and he wouldn’t trade this sight for the world, even if it meant having to go through two weeks of unnecessary frustration to get here.

it’s only prom, not a marriage proposal. there isn’t a reason why they should be acting like newlyweds, yet here they are. but even if they’re only third year students in high school, he knows, without a shred of doubt that he’s in love with you. even if they don’t truly grasp the idea of what love really is, the sheer fullness he feels when he’s with you couldn’t possibly be from anything else.

“you know,” he begins, “i asked you on a simple sushi date because i knew you didn’t like big, flashy things. but here you are, pulling this stunt because you know i like them. we’re just a perfect match, aren’t we?” you roll at your eyes at his cockiness, as well as his suggestive eyebrows, but the smile on your face tells him you agree.

yukhei’s peppering your face with kisses, and all you can do is giggle as you take them. “they act like they’re getting married,” he hears sungchan comment from afar.

“they might as well be. god, couples are so gross.”

“you’re one to talk. you and jeno-hyung act like that all of the time.”

“what! sungchan, come on, don’t joke around like that. we don’t.”

“yeah right.”

“but we don’t, right? ...RIGHT?”

[anxiouslyfred]

Together

Summary: Roman needs to create with someone and takes a long time before he ever tries asking to create with the other part of Creativity.

/\/\/\/\/\

Creating together with others had always helped Roman. It was sharing something that built who he was and just unleashed a lot of the inhibitions he’d built up over the years.

If he could create with someone else, even just doing different crafts in the same room as another person while they did their own creating, then his mind wouldn’t echo with criticisms given before or rules from classrooms about how art should or should not be done.

All of that was something Roman knew in his entire being but had only ever experienced through Thomas. Before the separation between the sides started loosening he only had Morality and Logic around and neither of them actually wanted to create.

Patton only ever wanted to join in with things Thomas’s friends were seen enjoying rather than put the effort in to create for himself. It was a game of copying rather than creating that Morality would follow, all properly credited and referred back of course. Then he’d pass any responsibility to create something original to Roman as soon as Thomas built an interest in doing something his own way.

Logan just saw a lot of creating as frivolous, necessary to provoke thought but no longer a necessary way to share ideas. Roman had tried suggesting Logan carried out experiments while he painted once, only to be told that would present too many safety risks, despite them just being sides of Thomas not part of the real world.

Times were changing though, first with the appearance of Anxiety and then Deceit revealing himself. Roman dreamt at that time that he just might be able to create with one of them, in a way different from the acting he’d collaborated with Thomas on.

And he was able to. Virgil happily joined him in the common spaces to write or doodle together, just relaxing with some music or a film on as background noise. Perhaps it would only happen late at night, when the other sides had long since fallen asleep but it rejuvenated him that first time it happened.

Janus only ever wanted to practise acting together though, so Roman didn’t often offer to create with him. On top of that ever since he first introduced himself to Thomas, Deceit and all the others sides had kept Roman from knowing just who to listen to or how would be the best way to respond. There was no point in trying to find a more comfortable way to share creating when all the emotions got tangled in a mess enough to halt any pen.

Part of that mess of emotion was why Roman ignored the obvious solution to wanting to create alongside someone. The morals Thomas followed kept getting flipped on his head and just trying to keep up with what they saw as good or bad left him reeling some days and those were the times he wished to create with someone else the most. Those were the times he’d be tempted to drag Virgil to his room just so they could create together without waiting until midnight because he realised Virgil felt his writing was deeply personal in a way that wouldn’t stand the curiosity or over support likely to come from Patton or Logan.

Sometimes when everything you do is wrong and it feels like you remember criticism for every idea or attempt you might make the only thing to do is throw out the rules.

There had once been a very literal barrier blocking the sides unknown to Thomas away from the sides known to him that neither group of them could cross, but that had weakened with each new side to reveal himself to Thomas and now Roman could easily rush out of his room and into his brothers.

It hadn’t been what he’d intended to do actually. Roman had been trying to sketch a painting he could use in one of the palaces he’d made but every line had seemed wrong until he just wanted to escape the pictures presence.

Then he was gasping and leaning against the back of Remus’s door being stared at with all the attention Remus would give to a fresh wound.

He wanted to explain and just talk through what brought him there, perhaps brush it off and walk back out. Instead when he opened his lips the words that came out were, “Create something with me.”

“Is Morality threatening you to get along with me?” Remus asked, leaning forward as though inspecting a murder scene.

“No, I just want to be able to create something dammit! With them there’s always rules, especially if they just expect to do their own things while I do all the work of creating and only Virgil ever lets me write while he does the same, so I’m asking if we can just create together!” Roman snapped, abruptly pushing away from the door, gesturing at it dramatically but ending with his arms crossed just glaring through the door at the people he could feel the pressures coming from.

Remus blinked at that, before launching his morning star at the door and destroying it. There was still an entrance there but for the pair inside the room it now looked like a broken door surrounded by a crumbling wall. “Let’s make a sculpture. I’ll take the bottom, you do the top.” He decided, easily summoning a large stone alongside a pile of clay, fittingly shaped like poo. “You pick which material we use. Both of them taste pretty good to me.”

“Let’s try the stone. I haven’t carved in a while but hammering away at something would be cathartic.” Roman ignored the comment of taste. He didn’t want to know just what the limits of things Remus would eat were. The question of just what they were making was also ignored. Part of the fun of creating together with the nearest thing to an embodiment of chaos Thomas could have was not know how well they could merge their ideas.

Hours later they did end up in fits of laughter at seeing a rearing horse coming over the top of at least 5 men sticking their bums in the air. Remus did say he was doing the bottom at the start and he doesn’t lie about what he’s going to create.

[xxsanshinexx]

Dick Boy

Characters: Felix X reader (featuring Ateez)

Genre: Crack/Fluff

Words: 3809

Synopsis: Your soulmate just wouldn’t stop drawing dicks on your arm

~

You were told growing up that soulmates were a special thing. It was the person who your soul was tied to, who could make you the happiest you could ever be, it was someone everyone in their lives wanted to meet at least once. Your parents were lucky enough to have found each other early on in life, some of your friends had found theirs while on the playground at recess and others were still idly searching for their second half. People said that when they realized who they’re soulmate was, an intense feeling of euphoria flowed through them; however, you were skeptical that you would have such feelings towards your soulmate. 

They just wouldn’t stop drawing dicks on your arm. 

Soulmates were attached by drawing on the skin. Whatever you wrote down on yourself would become plastered to your soulmates skin until you removed it. So when small doodles showed up on your skin as a child you were rather fond of the scribbles. There were small drawings of dogs, of singers, and occasionally a poorly written hello which you barely had time to respond to before it was washed away. Those sweet drawings from childhood had washed away entirely by the time you had reached middle school, high school, and now college. Instead of “hello” or “good morning”, it was “what’s 34 to the 3rd degree” or “What else is in a cell all I remember is mitochondria”. While your soulmate was endearing, he was also annoying. 

Especially now as a rather large dick began to mark the top of your arm, for everyone in your morning lecture to see. You were jolted from your adapt note taking as the shapes began to take form, making your face heat up in embarrassment as you tried your best to cover it. On most days, you even brought a jacket no matter the weather to hide the embarrassing images that appeared on the skin of your body.

“Another dick pic?” Jongho, a friend you had made on the first day of your college experience due to another unfortunate placage of phallical drawings, laughed as you pressed your hand against the desk trying to cover the growing amount of drawings.

“This little shit has an obsession I swear!” You quietly grumbled as you tried to focus back on your lecture and notes, but the ghost of a pen marking your skin was hard to ignore; especially as it creeped up your arm.

“Damn this one is bigger than the last,” Jongho traced the outline of the shapes trailing up your arm, “This one is incredibly vivid as well… maybe your soulmate is just a really good dick drawer? Ever thought about that? Art majors are weird in inexplicable ways.”

“Just give me a marker and shut up.”

Jongho scoffed and rolled his eyes, focusing back on the professor who seemed to still be on the same topic, “What makes you think I have markers on me.”

“There’s literally a coloring book out in front of you.” Indeed, Jongho never failed to bring some childish activity to do during your morning lectures. He found them too boring to pay attention to and would much rather listen to them on his phone later when his brain was up to it. 

He sighed in defeat and handed you a bright red marker, a contrast to the black on your arm, “I’d rather you not expose me in front of the entire class.”

“Trust me, you’re doing that to yourself right now,” You uncapped the marker with you teeth and took another look at his book, “Is that Hello Kitty?”

“Leave her out of this you dick fanatic.” His comment made a few people around you turn their heads and you ducked, the redness of your cheeks brighter than the marker in your hand. Jongho wasn’t lying though, your soulmate really was a dick fanatic. Lifting your arm back onto the table, it was nearly entirely covered in phallical images, some more vivid than others, and it made you grit your teeth in annoyance; even more so at the fact that they had the audacity to do so in all the colors of the rainbow. 

“Can you not draw dicks on yourself at 10 a.m. please, I just want to get through my classes.”

There was a reply no less than a minute later, but it was in a different handwriting than normal, “Ah so your his soulmate. We didn’t think you’d see all of these.”

You scoffed at the reply, scribbling back angrily, “Do you not know how soulmates work?? Now go wash him off or something I have to give a presentation and I DO NOT want dicks on my arms.”

“You’re no fun, your soulmate thinks it’s funny.” 

“I’m sure he does now please wash his arm.” You paused as you looked up, noticing a few eyes trailing your arms and to the frantic scribbling of your pen, “This is embarrassing.” 

“I’m so drawing more, when’s your presentation? I’ll draw one right on his forehead for you <3”

You decided in that moment that you hated whoever your soulmate associated himself with, “If I ever find out who you are I swear to God I’m going to kill you.”

 “Those are big words coming from someone with dicks all over their-” the words were cut off abruptly, with a smudged trail of ink following them. You frowned at the sudden lack of words until more began to appear, this time in an all too familiar handwriting, “I'M SO SORRY ABOUT MY FRIENDS I GO SHOWER RIGHT NOW.”

“Just wash the dicks off your arm please… and stop letting them draw on you.” you sighed as you capped the pen, leaning back in your seat avoiding the amused stares from your classmates. 

Jongho chuckled at your flustered state and took the pen from your hands, “So you get through to them?”

“It’s a he apparently,” You leaned your forehead against the desk, all motivation to follow along in today's lecture entirely gone, “And he has very awful friends.”

“Sounds more like he’s in middle school than college.”

“You act the exact same way, hello kitty boy.”

“Shut the fuck up y/n,” Jongho hissed, hiding his coloring book in his lap, eyes darting around for anyone who was listening in. Of course your other classmates were having a field day watching the two of you interact, the lecture long forgotten though it didn’t seem like your professor noticed. They never seemed to really care after the third week.

“Chill Jongho, i’m only kidding.” You frowned down at your arm, watching as the drawing began to fade one by one. You wished you knew more about your soulmate than just his friends being obsessed with drawing dicks and him being a he.There were certain things you couldn’t share through ink on sink, such as names and locations; and so the two of you had never really shared information as simple as gender, identification, or even a nickname. Neither of you really initiated any form of talking, mainly communicating through drawings, doodles or odd questions neither knew the answer to.

“You’re worse than San I swear,” He laughed, referencing his older friend who you had met on a few occasions. “And speaking of San,” He turned to you with an eyebrow raised, “Are you going to his party tonight?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“I mean, no, me and Yeosang would drag you there no matter your answer, but I was trying to be polite.”

“Overall, no I do not want to go. His parties are loud and overcrowded for such a small apartment.” You huffed, feeling as though your opinions would not be taken for granted. 

“Yeah but here's the thing “ He gestured as if he had just connected two dots, “maybe dick boy will be there”

“Will you please not call my soulmate dick boy.” You huffed, hiding your face in embarrassment again as the person turned to look at the two of you with a curious glance. 

“Only if you go to the party.”

“That’s not a good bargain.”

“Guess I’ll just call him dick boy from now on and assume anyone with a dick drawn on them is your soulmate!” Jongho announced loudly, but not enough so that your teacher turned away from their whiteboard; however, the rest of your classmates began to giggle. No doubt they had been listening in on your whole entire conversation, maybe even from the beginning itself. 

“Goddammit fine I’ll go to your dumb party just shut up!” You grumbled trying to escape the embarrassment by hiding your head in your arms. 

Jongho never seemed to be embarrassed though, not as he leaned back in his seat with a proud and triumphant smile, “See? That wasn’t so hard. Maybe you’ll meet dick boy tonight.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Love you too,” You looked up to see Jongho blow you an overly flirtatious kiss, “Me and Yeosang will be at your dorm by seven.”

That is how you ended up outside your apartment at six fifty-eight dressed in a nice outfit and a frown on your face. The night was too cold for a party and perfect to stay in your bed, binging a show or catching up on sleep. You couldn’t believe that you actually agreed to the party, at least if Jongho had dragged you from your home without your consent you could be angry about it; but now you could only be annoyed at yourself.

“There’s our little ray of sunshine!” Jongho laughed as he and a stone faced Yeosang got up from their spot on the gate on the sidewalk. The both of them had cleaned up nicely; however, that still didn’t mean that San’s party wouldn’t be a mess. He was notorious for having some of the messiest, loudest, and overall drunkest parties on the entire campus. It was a surprise he hadn’t gotten in trouble yet.��

“I’m not happy about this.”

“Your smile says enough about that,” Yeosang laughed as you began to walk down the street, San’s house, or rather the home they all shared, was only a block or so away. 

You rolled your eyes at Yeosang’s sarcasm, “Hello to you too Yeo.”

“Oh lighten up Y/n,” Jongho wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was already buzzed, “I have a feeling dick boy will be there!”

Yeosang spit on the drink he had been sipping on at the words, “I-what!? Who?”

“My soulmate has friends who likes to draw dicks on his arms.” You scoffed, pulling up the sleeves of your jacket to reveal yet another dick drawing that was in a, thankfully, more discrete place. No doubt your soulmate hadn’t noticed it yet but you couldn’t go out anywhere decent without a jacket now; his friends words from earlier almost made you tempted to wear a ski mask. At least then no one would see the phalics drawn on your skin. “It’s really fucking annoying.”

“That’s goddamn hilarious. I need a pen immediately.” Yeosang began to rummage through his pants pockets while hearty laughter flowed from his lips.

You smacked his moving arms with annoyance written clear across your face, “Dick drawing is my soulmate’s thing! Be a little more creative would you!”

“So you like having dicks drawn on you?”

“I do not-” You groaned in annoyance at the cocky grin on Yeosang’s features, “I hate both of you.”

“Why me!? I didn’t even bring anything up!” Jongho huffed in annoyance and you were almost thankful as you came to a stop in front of San’s house, flashing lights and loud music already emitting from it. 

“You’re the one who gave him that God awful nickname.” You gave both the boys on each side of you a little glare, “Now don’t you dare say anything about dick boy to Mingi or San. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“As long as the nickname sticks, I really don’t give a shit about the rules.” Jongho grinned, grabbing you by the upper arm and pulling you in the direction of the steps. “Now let’s go party!”

The party was exactly what you imagined it being. Loud, overcrowded, and entirely full of drunk college kids. You were even sure they’re were some professors in the mix; seeing as San was cozy with literally everyone on the campus. If he wanted, he could probably even get the administrators to come and dance with him. Instead, for this party, he had to settle for Yunho and Mingi; the three of them dancing their lives away to a bass heavy beat. San was lucky enough to be friends with Bang Chan, the aspiring DJ and producer, who would play parties for a little fee; even smaller for his friends. 

“So any sign of dick boy? Any more genitals drawn on your arms?” The sly voice of Seonghwa said as he came into view, leaning against the counter top that you sat on top of. 

You groaned and clutched the solo cup in your hand a little tighter in annoyance, “Did Jongho tell everyone?”

“Nearly, he’s kept his promise so far not to tell Mingi and San… though given how drunk Yunho is they’ll probably know by the end of the night.” 

“Just fucking fantastic, the last thing I need is Mingi teasing me for all this!” You downed the rest of the contents in your cup, feeling more tired than uplifted by the alcohol. 

“Don’t drink your worries away yet, Yunho hasn’t said shit to them. Besides, I’ve got some tea.” You rolled your eyes at his words as you played with the rim of your cup. 

“Please never use the word tea again.”

“Guess you don’t want to know who your soulmate is than.” The simple sentence brought a panic into your bloodstream. There was no way Seonghwa could know who your soulmate was. There were billions of people in this world, there was no absolute way he could have figured it out; and certainly not from just a simple dick drawing. 

You tried to steady your suddenly ragged breathing, “There's no way… just… don’t play games Seonghwa.”

“I’m not, Y/n, I wouldn’t lie about this,” He huffed, like he couldn’t believe you thought so little of him. “I really think I know who it is.”

You frowned a little more at the words, and even more as your heart began to speed up in pace. Maybe it wasn’t panic, maybe it was more excitement but all of it made you too dizzy and scared to comprehend. This was your soulmate he was talking about, this person that was tied to you forever; you didn’t know if you were even prepared for the speculations about who it would be. “Hwa, I just.. I don’t really want to know who it is.”

His eyes turned sympathetic at your conflicted features, “I won’t tell you directly than… but know he’s in the living room and has blonde hair.”

“Never really saw myself with a blonde.”

“Never really saw you with a dick drawer either, but the universe is surprising.” He chuckled and you gently hit his arm, thankful to him for trying to brighten up your panicking state. 

You gave him a soft pat on his forearm and let out a quiet sigh, “Thank you Seonghwa.”

He grinned at you and patted your hand in reassurance, “No problem-”

“CHANGBIN I TOLD YOU TO FUCKING STOP YOU KNOW THIS DOESN’T JUST SHOW UP ON ME!”

The loud shouting came from the living room, where laughter and general uproar was happening. Some of the party goers, you and Seonghwa included, paused their actions to watch a figure with their hood up, obscuring their features, run through the kitchen and down the hall. Even without having seen their face, something within you tugged at your body. Something that told you Seonghwa really hadn’t been lying and that you needed to get off your ass. 

“I wasn’t lying.” Seonghwa said and chuckled even more as you turned around to face him, “The dick on your forehead just proves it.”

Your eyes widened in alarm and your hands went up to cover your forehead. While you couldn’t entirely feel the drawing you knew it was there due to the newfound cold feeling of ink. This only caused the panic in you too intensify. 

“Go get your man, Y/n.” Seonghwa pulled you from your spot on the counter and nudged you in the direction of the hallway, while you still covered your forehead. “At least this way you both don’t have to worry about appearances. If you can look pass the dick on your foreheads you’re golden.”

“Oh my God Seonghwa you are not helping!” you whisper screamed, but your eyes were focused on the hallway. Your soulmate was down there. 

“Just go get him, Y/n. You don’t know if you’ll ever meet him again.” Seonghwa wisely told you and you nodded, trying to steel your shaking body. You hated that he was right, hated that your body moved without your thought until you were right in front of the bathroom door. You couldn’t remember how you got there, it was a blind stumble through the crowd who had resumed their partying antics. 

You pressed your ear to the door, trying to both eavesdrop and calm your nerves. Hopefully whoever was behind the door wasn’t the boy, even if your soul itself wanted it to only be him. The faint cursing from the other side solidfied the fact that it was him, “Fucking Changbin… god dammit I told him not to… why won’t this come off!”

Your hand was on the doorknob in an instance and you took a deep breath as you realized what you were doing. Like Seonghwa said, it was now or never. The door creaked open, the light pouring into the dark hallway, and making the boy glaring at the mirror jump.

“Hey sorry this is occupied-” His heavily accented voice faltered as the two of you made eye contact, or more specifically, your eyes made contact with the dick drawings on each others foreheads. Even if it wasn’t for the drawings you both harbored on your foreheads, the intense feeling of belonging was enough for you too know this was real. 

“So,” you breathed out, after the initial tingling feelings passed over you, “You’re dick boy.”

His face tinted red and he covered his hands with his face, “This is not at all how I wanted to meet my soulmate.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at him, but a smile was making it’s way to your lips. People hadn’t lied about the euphoric feeling rushing into your system at meeting you soulmate. “Do you think I really wanted a dick drawn on my forehead either?”

“I’m so sorry about Changbin, I can’t even apologize enough oh my god I’m so sorry I just-” He took a deep breath and finally managed to pull his head away from his hands, eyes catching on the curve of your lips. “I’m really sorry for all the dick drawings. I would’ve never done that too you… I’ll go make sure all my friends apologize to you and everything.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that flowed from your lips at his rambling. He was rather cute, you had to admit, and just maybe blondes were your type with the way his hair bounced with his every movement. “Let’s just get this one off our foreheads first, okay?”

A smile finally made its way onto his lips and you couldn’t help but be entranced, “That… that’s sounds good.”

You nodded and grabbed one of the towels lying around, noticing the one the boy in front of you had drenched in water discarded in the sink, before lathering yours with soap and water. The boy just watched you work quietly before you turned to him again, the proximity close, and he wished that he didn’t have a dick drawn on his forehead in this picture perfect moment. 

“Your friends really did a good job on this one,” Your voice was quiet as you pushed aside his hair, noticing how red his forehead was from his frantic scrubbing. Still a majority of the drawing still remained, “What the hell did they use.”

“Seungmin made a custom stamp,” he mumbled, staring at your eyes as they focused in on gently scrubbing his forehead, “Semi permanent ink and everything… that’s what they used on me this morning.”

“Well… I’ll give them props for dedication.” You hummed, holding the side of his face with your hand as you worked, missing how his face turned scarlet. “You might want to be a little more careful around your friends.”

“Trust me I tried, they just sneak up on me.” He sighed as you let go off his face, pulling back slightly to examine your work. There was little of the drawing left, nothing no one would notice at first glance. Your eyes trailed down to meet the boys in front of you and you had to stop yourself from gasping at the sparkling of them, and the proximity. “It’s what happened tonight. I was just lying on the couch and then bam… Changbin stamped my forehead.”

“I’ll be sure to give Changbin hell than,” You mumbled still caught up in his features, now transfixed on the lovely freckles dotting his cheeks and nose. The universe had been exceptionally kind to gift you with such a handsome soulmate.

“What’s your name?” His breath fanned against your nose and broke you from your staring.

“Y/n…” You muttered before looking back up at his eyes, not missing the cheeky gleam in them, “and you?”

“Felix.” He grinned down at you and in that moment you truly felt happy, in a way that was wholly unexplainable to any other person. No one who just met should make you fill with joy the way that Felix did, but the universe worked in funny ways. 

“Well,” You started, cupping his cheek in your hand once again as you took in his features. You already knew you would never get tired of them, “I’m glad I have something other to call you than dick boy.”

He laughed, whole and hearty at your response, before taking his own leap of faith and leaning his forehead against yours. “You’re still going to call me that… aren’t you.”

“Oh totally.” You grinned, mentally thanking this Changbin for being so extreme with his dick drawing.

[quickspinner]

Second Chance - Chapter 3 Making Time

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

“You’re so gross,” Juleka muttered as she sat down next to Luka at the conference table.

“What?” he chuckled. 

“You have a ridiculous smile on your face and you’re humming.”

“So? I’m happy.”

“You have lipstick on your face.”

“Nice try,” Luka snorted. “I didn’t see her this morning. She’s really busy.” He leaned his head on his hand, the ridiculous smile returning as he doodled some music notes on his notebook.

“Oh, is she,” Juleka deadpanned. 

“Don’t be like that, Jule, we’ve both made time to see each other. I’ve got no complaints.” 

“That’s what you said last time. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been getting up early to see her. You’re going to wear yourself out, Luka.”

“It’s the only time I have to see her without rearranging my whole schedule.” Luka sighed, throwing his pen down on the conference table. “This is why Rose is my favorite, she’d think it was romantic. What do you want from me, Juleka?”

“I want you to not make an idiot out of yourself and get your heart broken again,” Juleka snapped. “Also to quit cancelling things and rearranging the schedule before you really piss us all off.”

“I’m a big boy, I can take it,” Luka shot back. “Why are you such a pessimist? Everything’s going great. We’re both busy but that’s on me as much as her. We’re making it work. I’ve never asked you guys to move stuff around before and it won’t be for long, just until I can get everything balanced again—”

“Which will never happen if you don’t tell Lucille why you’ve become such a flake.”

“—And there’s no Adrien this time. I will tell Lucille, just...not yet.”

“How sure are you that she’s over him?” Juleka looked at him with genuine concern and he resisted the urge to tell her to mind her own business.

“She broke up with him two years ago before she left on her internship and she’s had boyfriends since then.”

“You’ve had girlfriends since you supposedly moved on too.”

“Yes, but Marinette and I never actually dated, it’s not the same.” Luka sighed through his nose, trying to decide how much was okay to tell her. Not that he really knew the details. “It’s not my place to talk about why they broke up, but I know it was final. She’s gotten closure that I never had.” Luka glanced at the door a little nervously. “Can we drop this before the others get here? Marinette’s never been dishonest with me and I trust her. What happened before, it was just...bad luck and bad timing. Let it go.”

Juleka opened her mouth but closed it again as the door opened and Luka’s assistant Lucille walked in with several nervous looking young men and a young woman who looked positively starstruck. They had every right to be nervous. Luka and Juleka were notoriously picky about what they permitted to carry the Couffaine name, even in the interests of charity, especially after that incident with Juleka’s former classmate. He tried to smile and put them at ease as he normally would, but his heart just wasn’t in it.

Luka felt guilty that he was having a hard time keeping his mind on the presentation. He jumped slightly as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, intending to turn it off, when he saw Marinette was calling him. He really ought to decline the call and call her back...

“I’m so sorry, excuse me just one minute,” he said, getting up from his chair, equally ignoring Lucille’s surprise and Juleka’s eyeroll. He stepped outside the room and answered the phone. “Hey, Marinette, what’s up?”

“Luka, I’m desperate for some peace and quiet before I lose my mind,” Marinette said, and he could hear the strain in her voice. “Do you know of a closet somewhere I can lock myself in that won’t have other people stampeding through constantly? I’ve tried everywhere I can think of and I just can’t seem to get away from—from people!”

“You can use my place,” he said immediately. “I’ll be out all day anyway. Make yourself at home.”

“But—“

“I’ll text you the address, and I’ll call the security desk and tell them to let you in. I won’t even be home until after seven at the earliest, so it’s no big deal.”

“I—but—Oh, thank you so much, Luka,” she said, and he could hear the tears.

“Marinette, baby, don’t cry,” he said soothingly, “I’m happy to do it. You should have called me before you got so stressed out about it. Don’t feel like you have to be gone before I get home, okay? Take as much time as you need. And maybe take a nap while you’re at it, there’s a guest bedroom down the hall on the right. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she sniffled. “I’ll be fine. I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I’m falling apart like this.”

“When was the last time you ate?” Luka asked. There was no answer. Luka rolled his eyes. “Have you at least had something to drink recently?”

“I had some coffee a couple of hours ago...” Marinette replied uncertainly.

Luka had to laugh, leaning against the wall and covering his mouth as he glanced at the door to the conference room.

“Hey! Quit laughing at me, Luka!” He could picture her pouting face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just I’m usually on the other end of this conversation,” he chuckled. “Marinette, go find yourself something to eat, drink some water, and then go to my place and have a nap. Then you can get up and work in peace and quiet, okay? Juleka and Rose live across the hall, we have the whole top floor of the building to ourselves, so if you need anything, knock on their door. Juleka’s here with me but I think Rose is home today.” 

“You’re the best, Luka.”

“Anything for you, Marinette. Go take care of yourself so you can do your best work. My schedule’s packed today but I’ll check on you later if I can.” He hung up before she could protest, made a quick call to his building’s security team, and stepped back into the meeting, texting the address as he walked back to his seat. “I’m so sorry about that, what did I miss?”

When he got home that night it was almost eight, and the door opened on a smell that made his stomach growl. Marinette, he thought, and noted the papers strewn all over his living room as he went toward the kitchen. Sure enough, he found Marinette there, taking some kind of casserole out of the oven. 

“Wow, something smells amazing,” Luka said, stopping at the entrance. 

“Lasagna,” she said, smiling at him as she put the dish on the stove. “It reheats well, so I figured if you didn’t get home until later it would still be good, but your timing is perfect.”

“You’re supposed to be working on your presentation, not cooking for me,” he chided gently, folding his arms. 

“I did work, and I got more done in the last few hours than I have in the last week. Now I’m taking a break to make dinner for the man who saved me from a nervous breakdown. Where are your plates?”

“Was it really that bad?” he asked sympathetically, opening the appropriate cabinet and handing Marinette two plates. “You’re eating with me, right? It’d be cruel to make me eat alone.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

“It really was that bad,” she sighed as she served. “Alya’s been great to let me stay with her, but she works from the apartment too, and there’s so many phone calls and deliveries and people coming and going, and it’s even worse at the bakery. I’m used to crowded work environments, so I’m not really sure why I’m having such a hard time, but I just can’t concentrate at all. I was so blocked, I couldn’t get anything done on the presentation outline, none of the design sketches were working, and I have to get this all done by next week so that I can send it to the production line at Gabriel. I can’t miss that deadline or the clothes won’t be ready in time for the show, not to mention how totally unprofessional it would look. I really think I would have lost it if I hadn’t called you. What do you want to drink?”

“Just water’s fine. You would have found a solution, you always do, but I’m glad I could help. You’re always welcome here,” Luka said, retrieving silverware and napkins. He gestured to the small table under the kitchen window. “You mind eating in here? I hardly ever use the dining room and I think the table in there is covered in paperwork right now.” 

“It is, and this is fine.” Marinette put the plates down on the small table. “I didn’t realize rock stars had so much paperwork.”

“It’s endless,” Luka groaned as he sat down. “Sometimes I wonder what I pay my lawyers for. Some of it’s because Juleka and I wanted to keep some control over what’s being signed off on in our names. It’s worse right now because they save up all this stuff for when we’re not on tour. So right now we’re cutting tracks for the next album, ironing out places and dates for the next tour, dealing with all the crap that came up during the last tour, plus pitches for products and events people want us to endorse. It’s a lot but I just can’t bring myself to hand it all over to my manager. I trust her, but I don’t know, apparently under this laid-back rocker exterior, there’s a real control freak.” He took a bite. “Wow, Marinette, this is great.”

“I’m glad you like it. I guess it probably doesn’t help that your first experience was with Bob Roth,” Marinette said sympathetically. 

“Got it in one,” Luka grimaced. “That was definitely a learning experience and I don’t ever want to be in that position again. Anyway, from the looks of my living room, you made it through your block.” 

Marinette winced. “Sorry about that, I’ll clean it up before I leave.”

“Why don’t you just leave it?” Luka shrugged. “Use my place as long as you need to, I don’t mind. I really only need the bedroom and the studio - that’s the room through the double doors off the living room. I’ll show you the spare bedroom before you leave, you can set up whatever you need in there and leave it as long as you want. Just try not to wake me up if you get here before noon, I tend to work late and sleep late.” Luka winked at her, but Marinette looked uncertain. 

“That’s awfully generous, Luka, are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Luka bent backwards in his chair and reached one long arm out for the drawer at the end of the counter. He rummaged blindly in it until he felt what he wanted, and then knocked it closed again. He put a keyring on the table between them. “Here, so you can just come and go as you please. There might be press, though,” he warned her. “We’re lucky right now because they’ve all been too obsessed with the XY cheating scandal to pay any attention to me, but that story’s not going to last forever and eventually someone’s going to notice us. They’ll say all sorts of things if you’re coming and going at all hours.”

Marinette shrugged. “Oh well. I am trying to get in your pants, so they won’t be stretching the truth too much.”

Luka choked on his lasagna, and Marinette nearly did too as she snorted and laughed hysterically. 

“You are so evil,” he muttered when he could breathe again, face bright red as he drained his entire glass of water.

“One of has to be,” she replied impishly.

“Speaking of evil,” Luka said once he could breathe normally again, “I need to talk to you about Juleka.”

“Juleka?” Marinette echoed with some surprise.

“Yeah. She’s...not super happy that I’m seeing you.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, guilt flooding her face. “I guess that’s to be expected, you two were always pretty protective of each other.”

“Well, she doesn’t get a say in this,” he said, motioning between them. “At the same time…”

“I’ll talk to her,” Marinette nodded. “I should have before now, actually. She’s been my friend for longer than you, after all.”

“I would like it if you two could clear the air,” Luka admitted. “I’d like you to be friends again, But don’t feel like you have to put up with any crap from her either.” He rolled his eyes. “You’ll have to tell me all about her version of the intentions speech, I’m sure it’ll be entertaining.” 

Marinette giggled. “I bet.”

Luka smiled. “Thanks for understanding, Marinette.”

They finished dinner and cleaned up together while Luka told Marinette about his day, and then Marinette cleaned off a space on the sofa where they could sit, and showed Luka some of the designs she’d been working on. He put his arm around her waist and she cuddled up to his side. 

Marinette put the designs down and leaned into him. They sat quietly for a minute before Marinette spoke again. “Luka?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you play for me? Like you used to. Like we talked about before? Just you and me.”

“I’d love to.”

He got up and went to his music studio. Luka reached for his sleek, custom painted, professional quality instrument, and then paused. Walking past the stand, he rummaged around for a moment and found a battered old case that held worn but well cared for black and white guitar. He took it from the case and ran his hand over it affectionately. A quick test showed that it was still in good condition, though terribly out of tune. It didn’t take him long to get it back in shape. Luka carried the old guitar back out to the living room and sat back down on the couch next to Marinette. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, listening, then started to play. Her breath caught and her eyes closed, hand lifting to her heart just as it had all those years ago. 

“It’s different,” she observed.

“We’re different,” he answered softly. The song that flowed from her heart to his hands was richer, fuller, and his ear and his fingers were quicker, more experienced, letting him catch and render subtleties that had eluded him before. His eyes closed again and he lost himself in it. 

Marinette slid closer to him, slipping partially behind him to drape herself over his back, and rested her chin on his shoulder. He turned his face to nuzzle her cheek, still playing, and she put her arms around his neck delicately, careful not to impede the motion of his arms.

“Beautiful,” she murmured.

“It’s you.”

He felt her smile rather than saw it. “I didn’t actually mean the song. I mean you, the way you play. I love watching you perform, but when you play like this, it’s just...different. I can watch your hands and—I don’t know, I’m not explaining well.”

“No, I know what you mean,” Luka said, keeping his voice low as well, “It’s more intimate this way. I’m not up on a stage. I’m not trying to create a reaction, I’m just playing along with you. I’m focused on you and no one else. God, I missed this, you have no idea how good it feels. I feel like I’m charging a battery I didn’t know was empty.”

“You’ve been lonely,” Marinette said sympathetically.

“I guess I have.” He nuzzled her cheek again. “Thanks for reaching out to me, Marinette. I’m so glad you’re here.”

She turned her face and kissed him, lightly at first but it lit an unexpected fire in him and he kissed her back fiercely, guitar strings twanging inelegantly as his focus abruptly shifted. Marinette laid her hand over his on the frets, stilling the fractured song. Her fingers slid over his knuckles as she moved to push the guitar lightly away. Luka obeyed the unspoken request, laying the guitar aside and turning more fully towards her, burying his fingers in her hair, tracing her jaw with his thumb.

“Luka,” she breathed just as he kissed her, and oh, he could drink his name from her lips forever—

I could drink my name from your lips forever...

He tried, he really did, to ignore the music suddenly swelling in him, to put it away for later, but he couldn’t. With a slight whine in the back of his throat, he broke away from Marinette. “Sorry, I’m sorry, just a minute, I need—“ he turned and caught up a colored pencil she had left on the coffee table and flipped over the nearest drawing, scribbling on the back of the page.

“Luka, what are you doing?” Marinette cried. “I need that.”

“I’ll make a copy, I just need—“ he broke off, too distracted to finish as he counted beats in his head. Dimly he was aware of Marinette’s frustrated huff, and then of her resigned sigh as her warmth and weight settled against his side. 

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked.

“No! No, I just, I gotta get this down, it won’t take long I promise.”

Marinette giggled, and kissed his cheek. “Sure it won’t. Look, I’m going to head on back to Alya’s and get some sleep. Just don’t mess up any more of my sketches, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, um, there’s a notebook in the drawer of the end table there, can you grab it for me?” Luka drummed a rhythm pattern on his knee with his fingers, lips moving silently. 

“I’ll definitely be back in the morning,” Marinette said as she slipped the notebook under his hand, “but I’ll remember what you said about waking you up. Give me that please, those are expensive.” She tugged her colored pencil out of his hand and replaced it with the pen that had been in the notebook coil.”

“Sorry,” he tore himself out of the music long enough to look up and meet her kiss. “I’m really sorry about this, Marinette, I’ll—“

“Don’t say you’ll make it up to me,” she said sharply, and he blinked. She sighed and bent to kiss him again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. We’ll talk about it later, but I promise I understand. Thanks for helping me out today. Hopefully I’ll see you before you have to leave in the morning. Good night, Luka.”

“Do you want me to call you a car?”

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Don’t get up, I’ll see myself out. Make your music, rock star.”

“Right,” he said, looking back down at the paper, already getting sucked back in. “Text and let me know you got home safe."

“I will. See you tomorrow, Luka.”

“I can’t believe this,” he sighed as the door shut behind her, raking his fingers through his hair. At the same time, he smiled at the paper in front of him. “This better be good,” he muttered, reaching for his guitar.

[sometimesiwritebadly]

The Lost Girl (Part 1)

Series Summary: The story of Raven, this first and only Lost Girl of Neverland. A long time ago she was a prisoner on a ship, and now she’s stuck on the island she helped create.

Chapter Summary: A long time ago in the Enchanted Forest, a young Killian, Liam, and Talia watch the stars. In present day Neverland, Raven runs into an old friend-turned-enemy.

Notes: Me? Starting a new series when I have two perfectly good ones? No I would never.

Ok actual notes now this is an OC story starting in season 3 of Once Upon A Time. It’s gonna have a little Peter Pan x OC, maybe some Henry x OC in far later chapters. But overall the story is more about my OC, Talia/Raven, than her relationships. In this story we’re disregarding the whole “Peter Pan is Rumplestiltskin’s dad” thing cause that was stupid. I’ll come up with something better. Also Henry is slightly aged up, I’m thinking around 15. I know this creates problems but i don’t really care :) Besides that there’s not much canon divergence for now, but once we get into seasons 4/5 whatever (idk IF the story will go that far into the show cause I only have a vague plan on the beginning and the end and the middle is a big old question mark) i’m gonna fix some shit *cough* frozen *cough*

Warnings: Heavily implied that the OC is a rape victim. I won’t ever go into any detail but it’s going to come up multiple times throughout this series. Not so much in this chapter, but depression/suicidal thoughts may come up in later chapters because of this. Language. 

Word Count: 2.6k

Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

~ A very long time ago ~

“Talia!” A young boy’s whispers, and his hand shaking her shoulder, woke Talia from her sleep. Talia slowly peeled her eyes open, to reveal a boy a few years younger than herself. 

“Killian, it’s the middle of the night.” 

“The stars are falling! Come out and look, Liam is already on the deck!” Killian tugged on Talia’s hands this time, pulling as hard as he could. Even though Talia was easily stronger than Killian, she allowed herself to be taken from her bunk at the mention of Liam. Liam, Killian, and Talia are the only kids on the ship, luckily all relatively close in age. Talia couldn’t help but develop a crush on Liam, who was only a year older than herself.

When Killian and Talia emerged onto the deck, Talia’s eyes were immediately drawn to the sky. Just as Killian had said, hundreds of stars appeared to fall from the sky in a way Talia had never seen before. Killian and Talia ran to the side of the ship to where Liam was already standing. The trio giggled as they watched the sky, pointing out their favorite stars and enjoying this rare moment of fun. Normally the time spent on the ship was the exact opposite; they were all servants, sold to work for Captain Silver until they could buy their way out. Liam and Killian were brothers, who had been sold to the Captain by their father. Talia was given to the Captain by her mother a year later, when her mother was in desperate need of money. The three of them spent their time cleaning the ship, and avoiding the abuse of the crew.

“I wish I could fly like the stars.” Talia said to the brothers, still watching the sky as the stars began to stand still once more. 

“What do you mean?” Killian asked, looking up to the girl. Talia often teased him for his height, as she stood nearly a head taller than him.

“The stars are free. I wish I could fly away and disappear, like...like a raven disappears into the night.” Talia felt a tear develop in her eye, though quickly wiped it away, not wanting to appear weak. As she got older, Captain Silver and some of the other crew had begun expecting more of her. Talia wasn’t sure how much longer she could succumb to their requests.

“You would leave us?” Killian said, in a whisper so low Talia could barely hear it. Talia knew her answer, though she couldn’t form the words to voice it. How could she tell Killian, her best friend, the closest she’d ever come to a brother, that she would leave if given the chance? Before she could figure out her answer, an adult voice interrupted the night.

“Talia.” The deep voice caused all three kids to turn around, and they found Captain Silver had joined them on the deck. “Come. Keep me company tonight.” Liam’s hand found Talia’s, causing her to turn to look at him. Liam gave her hand a comforting squeeze, before releasing it. Liam and Talia had agreed to try and keep this part of her life from Killian as long as they could. He was still two years younger than Talia, and blissfully oblivious to the darker parts of life. But as Talia grew, the crew became less subtle about their eyes for her.

“Aye, Captain.” Talia spoke to Silver, leaving her friends for a night she’d rather forget.

~ Present day ~

Raven ran through the woods of Neverland, avoiding the traps she knew lost boys had set. She’d lost count of the days she’d been running a long time ago. For more years than she’d like to admit, Raven had been trying to find a way off the island, and rumor has it that Pan was close to finding the heart of the truest believer, which meant she had to get off this island now or never. If Pan really did have the heart, he’d soon be more powerful than ever before. She wouldn’t be able to hide from him any longer, If Pan ever found out what she’d done, he’d kill her on sight.

Luckily, right now she didn’t have to worry too much about Pan finding her, because his focus was on the newest group that had landed on the island. Raven didn’t know who they were, but her magic made it easy to sense them. They had magic of their own, both light and dark, that much was obvious. If Pan is distracted by them, she may be able to find a portal back to the Enchanted Forest without Pan noticing.

Raven slowed her run to a walk as she approached her hideout. The only place on the island that was hidden from Pan. She had a friend that had used it when he hid from Pan a long time ago, but he was gone now, and with a little extra protection magic, she’d made it her own. Her eyes moved up to the rock that covered the entrance, only to see a group of people attempting to get in. Quickly she drew her bow, and took aim. Her warning shot hit the rock just past the ear of one of the men, causing the whole group to turn towards her. It was a group of five; three women and a man she didn’t recognize, and one man she did. Hook.

“Hook, why the hell are you invading my hideout?” Raven said, pointing her bow at him this time. The other four were armed with weapons of their own; one woman even had a ball of fire in her hand, but she paid no attention to them. 

“Your hideout? Last I checked Baelfire was the one who lived here, lass. And you were with Pan.” Killian’s words caused the group to look at her with even more animosity than before. Raven didn’t even get a chance to respond before a fireball was making its way towards your face.

“Regina, no!” One of the women yelled, but she quickly realized her words were useless. Raven moved her bow into her right hand, and used the left to easily catch the fireball before it could hit her. With a smirk on her face, she made the ball disappear. The strangers looked at the seemingly young girl with shocked faces.

“You’ve been gone a long time, Hook. A lot has changed. Especially me.” Raven briefly stopped speaking, and used her magic to move the stone blocking the entrance. “I’m assuming you’re looking for something of Bae’s.” Raven walked towards the group, slipping past the man and women who held swords to enter the little home. “His stuff is all here, help yourselves. Just do it quickly, you being here will bring Pan’s attention, and he and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms.” She had moved all of Bae’s old things into baskets, and so she pulled them out of their hiding spot and onto the makeshift table. “I don’t know what use they have to you, Hook.”

“We thought his things might show how he managed to get off the island.” The woman who spoke had held a bow, like your own, but she was the only one of the group who had actually put away her weapon. 

“Bae got off the island?”

“You didn’t know?” Hook said, taking a step towards Raven and putting away his sword.

“When he ran from camp I was still with the lost boys. When he never came back, I assumed Pan killed him, or that he’d died trying to get off the island.” Raven paused, not wanting to accidentally reveal too much emotion behind her next words. “I’m glad to hear that he’s ok.”

There was an awkward silence after she spoke. “He’s not exactly-” The brunette, the nice one, spoke, before being cut off by another woman, who you assumed to be Regina.

“He’s dead.” Any hope Raven had previously was squashed in an instant.

“Regina!” The man she didn’t know scolded, only to be met with Regina’s glare.

“What? Are we supposed to comfort her? Lie to her? Hook said it himself, she works for Pan!”

Raven scoffed. “I used to work with Pan. I never worked for him.” While she spoke, Hook and the blonde woman were examining the drawings on the walls. Most of them were old, from Bae’s time in the cave, but a few were newer. Raven had added to Bae’s doodles over the years. “If there’s anything in here that’ll get someone off the island, I haven’t found it. And trust me, I’ve been trying to get off this island for a long time.” She said, beginning to pull stuff out of one of the baskets. The nice woman joined her, inspecting each item as she went.

“I’m Snow.” She introduced herself as she worked, looking at a coconut bowl before setting it down. “That’s my husband, David, and our daughter, Emma. That’s Regina, and it’s clear that you already know Hook.” She pointed to each person she introduced. David and Emma each gave Raven a nod when Snow spoke their names, while Regina ignored her as she rummaged through another basket. “What’s your name?” Snow asked kindly.

“Raven.” She could hear Hook scoff from across the cave, but Raven elected to ignore it. 

“Hand me that candle.” Emma said from across the room. David grabbed it from the table where Snow had left it, and quickly lit it aflame before handing it to his daughter. Raven moved to the edge of the cave, watching as the group looked through Bae’s things and examined the wall. Emma and Hook had a hushed conversation about the drawings, while Regina, David, and Snow continued to look through the baskets. Emma turned away from Hook and spoke to the rest of the group after she finished looking at the artwork. “What’s all this?”

“Uh,” Snow began, “Just some cups and bowls he fashioned from things he found here.” Some of those items were actually Raven’s, but she decided to keep quiet and continue watching quietly.

“I don’t know how great a cup this coconut could make. It’s filled with holes.” Raven had already discovered the map that the coconut actually revealed, but she also knew the problem that followed it. So again, she kept quiet. She had no reason to help them, and she hoped once they realized there was nothing of use here, they’d leave and never come back.

“Uh, maybe it’s a tiny...colander.” Snow suggested.

“What’s a colander?” Raven spoke up. Snow waved it off, signalling that it wasn’t exactly important. 

“Yes, because preteen Baelfire probably made lots of pasta.” Regina noted sarcastically, ignoring your question and rolling her eyes at Snow. While Snow glared at Regina, you noticed Emma figuring out the hidden map.

“Hold on…” She started, “Hook, snuff out that torch.” Hook followed her direction quickly, and plunged the cave into darkness. Emma connected the two coconuts, and looked up at the roof. 

“What, am I supposed to be impressed that he made a night-light?” Regina made yet another sarcastic comment.

Raven, having enough of their slow place, decided to jump in. “It’s a map.” Unlike the rest of the group, who were looking at the ceiling, Raven’s eyes were fixed at the ground. She’d stared at that map hundreds of times, but could never decode it. 

“To home?” Emma questioned, a slight attitude in her voice, “I thought you said there wasn’t anything useful here?”

“I didn’t lie. It’s unreadable.”

“Aye, She’s right.” Hook said. Raven looked up, shocked that Hook would even be willing to admit she was right about anything. “There was a short time in Neverland when Baelfire was aboard my ship. I taught him to navigate using the stars. What you’re looking at is the fruit of my labors.”

“Then you can read it.” Regina noted, as she glanced away from the map and towards Hook. For the first time Raven had heard, there was no animosity in her voice. Raven scoffed at her remark, causing Regina’s glare to return and land on Raven. “What?”

Raven looked at Hook as she quoted the words they’d both heard as children, “The best captains conceal their maps in a code.” Hook held the stare for a moment before he spoke again.

“Aye. He was an apt pupil.”

“So you’re saying the only person who can read this map is Neal.” Snow said. Even her hope appeared to be draining. Raven’s eyebrows furrowed at the name Neal, but she figured Bae must’ve done the same thing she had when he left Neverland; New life, new name. 

“Which means the only person who can read it is dead. I told you, there’s nothing useful here.” Raven said. Emma took the lid off of the candle, before setting it back on the table and walking out of the cave, followed by Snow and David.

Regina continued to look annoyed, but shuffled through the last of Baelfire’s items. Raven decided to take this moment to confront Hook.

“Why’d you come back?”

Hook looked at her with an unreadable expression. “Why aren’t you working with Pan anymore?” Raven rolled her eyes at his question. Pan was the last person she wanted to be thinking about.

“We had a disagreement. Answer my question.”

“Pan found the heart of the truest believer.”

Raven drew a deep breath at this. Sure, she’d heard the rumors, but it’s different to have it confirmed. She’s really running out of time now. “I heard. What does that have to do with you?”

“It’s Emma’s son. Emma and…” Hook paused. “Emma and Baelfire’s boy.” Raven’s eyebrows shot up now. This was not what she’d expected at all. To learn that Baelfire made it off the island, died, and had a son who was now being held captive by Pan all at once is a lot for anyone to handle. Especially someone who has so much history with Bae.

“Pan took Bae’s son?” Raven could barely believe it.

“Aye.”

At this point, Emma came marching back in, followed by Snow and David. David took this time to relight the torch. The group began looking around again, she assumed they were trying to come up with some kind of plan, but Raven was hardly paying attention. She owed Baelfire so much, and even though every logical bone in her body said that she should just get these people out of her life, her heart knew she had to at least attempt to help. After all, she’d spent so many years working with Pan, her help had set Pan in the right direction to find Bae’s son. When Emma, Snow, and Regina made their exit Raven followed them, while Hook and David stayed behind a moment. 

“I want to help you guys.”

“No.”

“Really?”

Regina and Snow spoke at the same time, glaring at the other’s response.

“Look, I know you guys have no reason to trust me, but I owe Baelfire my life.” Behind you, David and Hook exited the cave. She had the whole group’s attention now. “If I can’t pay back Bae, the least I can do is help his son. Plus, I really hate Pan.” Raven could practically feel Hook rolling his eyes behind her, but she kept talking. “And I spent more years than I could count working with him. I know him better than anyone. All I ask in exchange is passage off the island after we find the boy.”

“Henry.” Emma said, as she took a step towards Raven, “His name is Henry. How do we know this isn’t a trick? Can you prove to us that you don’t work with Pan anymore?”

“Yes.”

“How?” Hook spoke up this time, coming into her line of sight.

“Easy. I’ll take you to my grave.”

~~~

I hope this is a good first chapter! I had a hard time deciding when to stop lol, but i already have half of the next chapter written so hopefully I’ll update this one pretty soon :)

[marbledaesthetics]

Only on Principal | afi | part ii

masterlist part i

pairing: ashton irwin x ofc

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, mutual pining, fake (semi-coerced?) relationships, injuries, implications of anxiety

word count: 4.4k

a/n: sorry this took so long, I just recently restarted classes and I never have the time to write. I wish I could say the next one will be sooner, but I haven’t even started it (oops). I do have an idea of where this will go moving forward, so hopefully, once I can get around to writing, it will go quickly. 

~~~

It’s nearing 10 o’clock when Ashton pulls up to the building Hylla described, a brick building with tall windows, two stories high. The sign above the front door reads The Ink Pot, but he passes it by in favor of following the small alley to his left, as per her directions, where he found a small side door.

He hesitates before knocking, knowing he’s a few minutes early. He’d spent the past week kicking himself over the way he had treated her, and he was anxious to see if she would still be upset by it.

The door swings open, snapping him from his thoughts, to reveal Hylla, holding a mascara wand and small, squirming dog. “Hi, you can come on up, I’m not quite ready, yet.” She motions for him to follow him up the stairs just inside the door. “You can chill wherever while I finish up.”

Hylla disappears after setting down the small pup, who immediately scuttles over to Ashton, at the top of the stairs. He crouches down and scratches its ears lightly, giggling when it attempts to climb into his lap. “Well, hello there.” He moves to sit on the end of her couch, leaning back down to continue petting it.

Hylla comes back a minute later, shaking her head in amusement at her dog, who is now lying on Ashton’s foot while he scratches her stomach. “Are you being needy, Karma? Worst guard dog I’ve ever seen,” she teases, laughing as the dog gets up and barrels into her shins.

“What breed is she?” Ashton asks, brushing a bit of dog fur from the bottom of his jeans.

“A mini Australian shepherd. She’s super smart, but she’s also a total brat.”

Ashon giggles, and she immediately yearns to hear the sound again. She mentally scolds herself, reminding herself that she needed to keep their relationship amicable for the next eight months.

“Are you ready, then?” Ashton asks, breaking the slightly awkward silence. He stands and slides his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, I just need to put this little one somewhere she won’t cause trouble.” She herds Karma into a corner of the kitchen full of dog things, closing a baby gate to keep her there. Upon watching this, Ashton notices that most things he could see are baby proofed.

Gesturing to the nearest baby lock, he asks, “Do you have a kid?” then quickly backtracks. “Wow, that was really blunt, sorry.”

Hylla just laughs, brushing it off as she pulls on her shoes. “No, like I said, Karma is super smart, but she loves causing trouble. She knows how to flip light switches, open cabinets, doors, the fridge, so: baby locks.”

Ashton laughs, a full sound from deep in his chest. “That’s amazing. In theory, that would be great, but I could see how she could make a mess, though.”

Hylla makes a small noise of affirmation, and they head out. They make small talk on their way, allowing the radio to fill stretches of comfortable silence.

Ashton parks a few blocks from the coffee shop, giving them a chance to be spotted before they enter. He gives Hylla a small, reassuring smile before hopping out of the car, opening her door. He helps her out of the car, lacing their fingers together as they make their way to the shop.

A handful of fans recognize Ashton, but none make a fuss about Hylla’s presence, being kind without prying.

They choose to sit at a bar along the front windows, keeping an eye out for the paps that were bound to arrive. They continue to keep their conversation light, occasionally speaking to fans that approach.

After some time, they notice the herd of paps outside had grown to a size plenty more than sufficient for their purposes. They meet each other’s eyes before rising from their seats in unison. 

Ashton takes Hyllas free hand in his, squeezing lightly. “You ready?”

She smiles back and nods, using her drink to gesture for them to leave.

As soon as the door opens, they’re overwhelmed by flashes. Ashton makes a point of ignoring the cameras, leading Hylla toward the pier, where it would be more difficult for the paps to follow.

Hylla tries to keep her head down, knowing there are already enough pictures of her face for Twitter to find her. The noise was overwhelming, with questions being shouted over each other, and Hylla is forced to press closer to Ashton to keep her balance as they fight their way through the crowded sidewalk.

One man pouches forward, gripping her arm tightly and asking a question she doesn’t quite hear. She freezes, eyes going wide as the man’s grip grows tighter. Immediately, Ashton puts himself between the two, dropping her hand in favor of pulling the man’s off of her and pushing him back. As soon as she’s freed, she stumbles back, heart still racing, and watches Ashton shoo away everyone who hasn’t already taken their cue to leave.

Once they are gone, he turns back to her, concern pinching his features. “Are you alright?” he asks softly, lightly brushing his fingertips over the bright red marks left on her elbow. 

“I’m okay,” she says quickly, “just a little shaken up— I wasn’t expecting that.” Her reply comes almost too fast for Ashton to believe her, but he just nods, drawing her closer to him, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before continuing toward the pier. 

Their silence is comfortable as they walk, filling the long stretches between bits of small talk.

Occasionally, a fan will ask Ashton for a picture, and Hylla happily takes the photos, opting to stay behind the camera, despite several invitations to join them.

They eventually find themselves at a picnic table, their gazes drifting between each other and the water.

“I’m actually kind of surprised we didn’t get more questions today,” she mentions, absentmindedly running her nails through the groves in the worn wood.

Ashton shrugs, drumming his own fingers on his thigh. “They usually aren’t the type to pry, but those pictures are probably trending by now.”

“I suppose it’s nice how they don’t track you everywhere. I imagine that would get old.”

“It can when it happens a lot, like when we’re on tour. Usually, it screws up plans more than anything.” He pauses for a second, taking in the sounds of the boardwalk before looking back to her. “So, I still don’t know much about you. Where are you from?”

“I grew up in Long Beach. My mom grew up in the LA area, but my dad is actually from Puerto Rico.”

“Puerto Rico, I think you might have mentioned that last week.”

She raises her eyebrows a bit, shocked he remembered. “Yeah, I did.”

“Does that mean you speak Spanish?”

His voice is genuinely curious, but Hylla can’t help but tease, “How original, no one has ever asked me that before. But, yes, I speak Spanish.”

“Well, I’m sorry I asked,” he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I feel like you mentioned your mom, too. Are you a family-oriented person?”

“Yeah, my entire family is pretty close.”

“Mine, too. Do you have any siblings?”

“Two brothers and a sister, plus a few cousins I’m super close with.”

Ashton gave a quick glance around, making sure everyone was out of earshot before speaking. “This whole thing must be hard then, not being able to talk about this.”

“A little, but I’m honestly so busy I don’t get to see them half as often as I’d like to even have to avoid talking about it. I assume it’s gonna get even harder with this being public now.” Hylla spoke quietly, also concerned about potential eavesdroppers. “This probably isn’t the place for this conversation.”

“You’re probably right,” He said, standing up from the table. “Should we move this somewhere more private?”

He held out a hand, which she took, lacing her fingers in his as they made their way back up the pier. “What other things should you know about me?”

“Well, apparently you speak Spanish. Any other fun talents you’ve been hiding from me?”

“You already know I do art. That takes up most of my time.”

“Other than tattoos, what kind of art do you like to do?”

“Uh, a little bit of everything, I guess? I do a lot of digital things because they’re the easiest to get to clients that commission me, and I can print them into stencils. I paint, sometimes. As long as I have a pen and something to write on, I’ll doodle. How about you? Any random talents you’re holding out on?”

“Nothing spectacular. I can whistle really well, but I suppose that goes with the music thing.”

They spend the rest of the walk back to the car chatting, talking just enough to fill the silence. They had almost made it back to the car when they saw a few more paps; though, they appeared to be less pushy than the ones they encountered earlier.

Hylla’s first reaction was to ignore them, avoiding direct eye contact, but Ashton smiled at them, politely telling them he would answer any of their questions. She was honestly surprised they left graciously, allowing the pair to go about their business.

Ashton opened her door for her, allowing her to climb into the passenger seat before getting in the car himself. Neither of them spoke until Ashton pulled into traffic. “Are you doing okay? I know all of this can be overwhelming.”

Hylla shrugged, running her fingertips over the seams of the center council. “I’m fine, I wasn’t really as prepared for dealing with them as I originally thought, but it’s something I’ll just learn with time, I guess. Honestly, the fact that they just left when you asked them to really shocked me.”

“They aren’t all quite as pushy as the ones this morning,” Ashton assured her. He made quick glances at her while he drove, debating whether he could hold her hand without people around. “The shoving and mobbing is something we hardly ever have to deal with around here, and security is usually with us in places where the pushy ones like to show. Speaking of which, how’s your arm?”

Hylla hadn’t really had much time to think over the morning’s events, so she was surprised to see how dark the bruises were when she looked down. “It looks worse than it feels. It’ll probably be pretty sore tomorrow, though.”

“Once we park, I can take a look at it. I might have something at home that could take care of them.” He couldn’t help but feel guilty, partially responsible for what had happened. “We probably should have iced it earlier, stopped it from getting this bad.”

Hylla shook her head, shrugging off his concern. “It really doesn’t hurt, Ash. It’s not a big deal.”

“I know, but I hate that they hurt you. I should have expected something like this.” He speaks quietly, shifting his eyes back to the road.

“This isn’t your fault, Ash,” she said, not even thinking as she put her hand over his on the gearshift. “You know that, right? I signed up for this. This whole thing doesn’t need to make me your responsibility.”

Ashton’s fluttering heart sank at her words, feeling pushed away. “I know that we really aren’t that close, that I don’t necessarily need to, but I’m still worried about you, and I still care that you got hurt.” His face is red as he pulls into a park’n’ride, catching her gaze before quickly averting his eyes. “Is it okay if I take a look at your arm?” His words are cautious, not wanting to overstep any boundaries or make her uncomfortable.

“That’s fine, Ash.” She twists slightly in her seat to face him more and whisks the knuckles of her uninjured arm over his cheek to bring his attention back to her face. “And, thank you for caring, even if you don’t really have to.”

“Of course, Hylla. I’m not about to just ignore you as soon as we aren’t in public, even if I technically can.” He speaks softly, but with a tone of finality that affirms his words. 

Hylla hums softly in response, taking more reassurance from his words than she realized she had needed. 

He takes his time inspecting her bruises, softly grazing them with his fingers. Ashton sighs, his tone softer when he continues. “I know I wasn’t particularly pleasant when we first met, scratch that, I was a total douche, and there isn’t an excuse for that, but I really would like us to be friends, to be able to enjoy each other’s company if we’re going to be spending so much time together.”

“I completely understand why you acted the way you did that first day; I probably would have reacted the same way if our roles were reversed. You didn’t get a choice in the situation, and I was the person they were forcing onto you, so you lashed out. I’m not upset about you having feelings, Ashton, and I also want to be able to enjoy each other’s company throughout this.” She paused in a way that suggested she wasn’t done talking, but couldn’t bring herself to suggest that their relationship could go further than just friends.

Hylla was snapped from her thoughts when Ashton’s gentle hold on her arm trailed, taking her hand in his, drawing her gaze back to his. “I’m glad we both want that.” He wore a light smile on his face, gently stroking her hand with his thumb as he spoke. “Those bruises are getting kind of gnarly. Want to maybe get some food and head back to mine so I can clean them up?”

His tone is meek, bracing himself from the rejection he feared, expecting her to ask him to just bring her home. Despite her reassurance that she understood, he still was worried he had screwed over anything that could have ever possibly happened between them with his behavior.

“That sounds good.” She squeezes his hand, smiling at him. He sighs lightly with relief, taking her acceptance of his offer as a good sign. With a small, mischievous smile, she mutters, “Feels good, too.”

Ashton barks a loud, sudden laugh and throws his head back, completely caught off guard by the change in mood. He continues to giggle as he pulls back into traffic, heading toward his house. “A pun at my expense? Already?” He trails off into a fit of giggles, his smile growing further. “Oh, you are just gonna love the guys.”

Ashton falters, worried he’s jumped too far ahead of himself, despite the fact that they both knew that she would be meeting the guys sooner rather than later, but Hylla's unfazed. “It’ll probably be even harder for you to keep this from them than it will be for me to keep it from my family.”

Her comment throws him— he hadn’t even considered the fact that he couldn’t tell the guys about the nature of their relationship. “I guess we never did finish that conversation, did we?”

She shrugs off the question, hiking one knee to her chest and leaning against the door. “I don’t really know what else to say. I mean, it’s going to suck keeping this from them, but what more is there to dwell on, really?”

Ashton takes a quick glance over at her, sensing that the situation bothered her more than she was letting on, but decides not to push the matter. “Tell me about them.”

Hylla tilts her head just enough to stare, quirking her eyebrow at his request. 

“They’re clearly important to you, so, tell me about them.” She smiles, shaking her head as she thinks.

“Well, Kendall is the oldest, she’s 28. She loves to tease, and is bossy as hell, but her heart is always in the right place. Micah’s 26. He can be a little protective, but lets me get away with everything because he’s a total softy. Kian’s only twenty, but protective to the point of overbearing and likes following the rules. He loves playing tough guy, and hates acknowledging that I can handle myself. Issac and Lydia are my cousins, but we spent so much time together as kids that we’re practically siblings. Lydia is 27, and Issac’s my age— actually, he’s two days younger than me and I will never let him forget it.”

Ashton smiles as she rambles, listening attentively to her stories with the people she cares so much about.

She trails off in the middle of a story from her childhood, blushing when she realizes they’ve stopped in Ashton’s driveway. “Sorry, I got a little carried away.”

“Don’t be. They sound amazing.” They both exit the car, walking up to the house. “I wish I got to see my family more, but the guys are like my brothers, now.” 

Ashton opens the door for Hylla, stepping in behind her and dropping his keys into a bowl by the door. He kicks off his shoes, and Hylla follows suit before continuing to stand awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed.

Ashton shows her to the kitchen, telling her to make herself comfortable before disappearing upstairs to grab some things for her arm. Hylla perches herself on a stool at his counter, pulling out her phone to see the pictures of them starting to trend.

Ashton returns carrying an assortment of first aid supplies. He chuckles lightly when she shows him her screen, mildly impressed that they’ve already seemed to have identified her, along with several of her socials.

“Twitter really is better than the FBI, aren’t they?” He nods, pulling a stack of takeout menus from a drawer.

“What are you feeling for lunch?” he asks, flipping several of the menus to face her.

She glances up from her scrolling, returning her phone to her pocket. “I’m not picky, but I’m always a sucker for Thai.” She pulls a few menus from the stack, allowing Ashton to pick from those.

Once they’d placed their orders, Ashton sits facing her, inspecting her bruises again. He holds her arm gently, careful not to put more pressure than necessary on the sore area. He rubs a balm over it before wrapping it with a soft ice pack, smiling at her gently.

“You really need to stop feeling so guilty about this, Ash.” Her words stun him, and he meets her eyes again. “This is not your fault, and your guilty face is making me sad.” She jokingly pouts at him, earning herself a giggle.

“I know,” he sighs lightly and sits up straighter, twisting to face the counter, “but I can’t help but feel bad that being around me got you hurt.” He has his own small pout, fuming over the incident.

“It’s a bruise, Ashton. It’s not even that bad.” She moves the compress, poking it harshly to prove her point, but the small wince she makes nullifies it. “Okay, maybe it’s a bad bruise, but I’ll be fine. I’ve probably given myself worse bruises running into tables, so you can stop worrying so much.”

Ashton resituates the compress, holding it there to keep her from moving it again. “Was awful to you that first day, and now this happened. I can’t help but think that you're gonna hate me if this sort of thing keeps happening.”

“I’m not a dog, Ash. A few bad days aren’t gonna train me to hate you.” She chuckles a bit, smiling warmly. “I already told you that I’m not mad about you being in a mood that first day and that this isn’t your fault. You don’t need to be so hard on yourself.” She reaches out to cup his face, rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone soothingly.

Her touch feels natural, and Ashton has to restrain himself from leaning into it. “I’ll try to stop worrying so much, but you need to leave your ice pack on so it actually starts healing,” he teases, placing his hand on her knee, brushing the inside of it with his thumb.

“Deal.”

They remain in a comfortable silence for a bit, enjoying each other’s touch within their own little bubble, until the doorbell rings, startling them both. They jump apart guiltily, breaking their worry free bliss, and they both flush. Ashton sighs lightly before moving to answer the door, already missing her touch.

Hylla readjusts in her seat, trying to process the moment they shared. She ached to return to it, to pursue a romance outside of their contract without regard for the consequences, but she chastised herself, unable to push her worries from her mind. No matter what happened between them in private, they would be forced to regularly see each other until their contract expired, and she wasn’t sure she could keep something like that to herself for so long.

Ashton comes back with their takeout a minute later, firmly refusing to allow Hylla to pay him back for her meal. Once they are both settled with their food, he rekindles their conversation for a third time. “Tell me more about your family.”

Hylla thinks for a moment on what she should start with, surprised at how interested he is. “Well, my dad’s family is from Puerto Rico; They moved here when he was eleven. My mom’s family came over from Southern Europe before the first world war. They’re both deeply connected to their cultures, so we have a lot of strong traditions. Between running the shop and now this, I don’t get to see them half as often as I’d like, but we try to make a point of doing big family dinners as often as we can— which you will most definitely be getting dragged to at some point in the near future. There is no way they will let me get away with not bringing you around more than once, now that we’re public.”

Ashton chuckles, heart fluttering at the prospect of meeting the people that were so important to her. “Well, I’ll give it a week at most before the guys start showing up here unannounced to try and meet you, so I guess we’re even there.”

“Speaking of meeting people, we’re going to need a solid story of how we met because my family will pick up on anything that doesn’t quite match up, so our details need to be on point without seeming rehearsed.”

“The guys won’t necessarily need details, but if the situation seems weird, they’re gonna start asking questions we probably won’t be able to answer.”

“So we need details and a vibe.”

They sit quietly, only the sounds of their chewing disturbing the thoughtful silence as they run through scenarios. They occasionally bounce a few ideas off each other, shooting down the ones that would spark too many questions, before settling on meeting at a farmers market they both occasionally shop at.

They discuss the details of the meeting, occasionally jotting down details to remember, until long after their food has been finished. The conversations strayed frequently, and Hylla longed to hear more about the man beside her, who she suspected was holding something back, giving few details of his own life when she tries to reciprocate his curious nature.

Even after the details had been arranged, their conversation flowed easily, but Ashton remained reserved, worried if he shared too many of his own experiences, he’d lose sight of what he has in common with Hylla. He could recognize so much of himself within her— valuing her connections to her family and culture, the strong sense of creativity she pursued— despite the fact that they led completely different lives, and he clung to that connection, terrified she would lose what little interest in him he hopes she has without it. 

What Hylla does learn about him is mundane, but she adores the knowledge, nonetheless, They exchange random favorites— foods, movies, authors— and other small things, keeping their conversation light until Hylla decides she’s stayed her welcome.

Upon arriving home, she immediately takes Karma for a walk, taking some time to think over the predicament Ashton presented. She’s close with her family, and has never been good at hiding things from them. If one of them directly pointed out something was weird about the couple, she isn’t sure she will be able to keep up the act.

Her worries continue to pester her as she sets things up in the shop for the next morning, and while she attempts to sleep. Eventually, after giving into her insomnia, she pulls a sketchbook from the pile on her desk and settles back on top of the comforter to draw.

She doesn’t pay as much mind to what she’s drawing as she does to blending each part into a single piece. She starts with thin line work, dainty lines flowing to the edges of uncompleted figures, but quickly switches to thicker, bolder marks, all but overtaking the delicate start to the piece. When she comes back from her place deep in her thoughts, and takes the time to examine what she’s done, she is shocked at the wholeness of the piece. Even without the detailing of a finished piece, it seems cohesive and clear-cut, as though it told a story.

The upper half of a wolf vaguely encircles the dainty, loopy outline of a girl holding a flor de maga, a Puerto Rican hibiscus flower, as though using it as a pen. The wolf’s teeth are bared, but its expression is soft and curious as it faces the girl, who appeared to be unbothered by the beast’s presence, focused on the image below them. In roughly the shape of a tiara, vague figures of half sketched people struggle toward a man holding a flag, standing firm against strong winds. The piece bleeds with emotion, feelings of passion, admiration, understanding, and inner strength.

Hylla stays up until the wee hours of the morning, shading and adding details to the piece until she feels as though she’s done it justice. It’s raw, and she doesn’t quite understand why the textures and patterns work together, but everything fits together in a way that satisfies her. Finally, she moves the sketchbook to her nightstand, sprawling out on the bed to get some sleep before she has to open the shop.

~~~

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[writingwithadinosaur]

“Thunderstruck” - Oneshot

“Thunderstruck” - Oneshot

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Tony Stark x Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 1,419

Key: Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, I think that’s all. Let me know if I missed anything!

Summary: You were recently taken in by the Avengers thanks to your ability to control electricity. But you weren’t able to spark friendly conversations with many people right off the bat.

Author’s Note: This was a random idea I had when I was out of town a few weeks ago, and I’m just now getting around to writing it! It was originally inspired by “Sweet Child of Mine” and then “Thunderstruck” came on when I was writing and it made me happy. Hope you enjoy it! <3

As always, huge shoutout to @witchymarvelspacecase for making my crazy ramblings more comprehensible and being a real person with me. <3 

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

A block-wide blackout in the middle of autumn. You at the center of it

You were finally making progress You were brilliant, eased through school. You had plans for more doctorates and making advancements in technology or science or something. And you were on your way. You were currently working on an idea that, if it worked, could replace the need for multiple vaccines, and condense them all one simple, yearly vaccine.

But one small detail overlooked, and your lab partner being the clumsiest person to ever exist had ended with you being exposed to the chemical compound that you were testing.

Thankfully, there was an emergency disinfection chamber nearby that you were able to get to.

“Let just call it a night. We’ll start over tomorrow.”

“I really am sorry, (Y/N).”

“I know. Just… Come back tomorrow, prepared for a long day of focus, alright?”

She just nodded as you grabbed your bag and walked out of the lab, soaking wet, into the rain. You knew you should have brought a change of clothes like you usually did. But you were running late and ignored your routine. At this point, you just wanted to get home.

You were only a few streets away from your place. You vividly remember passing Mr. Polwiski’s Deli, then darkness.

The next thing you knew, you were on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, pain scorching through your entire body. You could faintly hear the paramedic asking you if you knew what happened, or who you were, but you were too busy trying to focus your semi-blurry vision on your body. Your clothes were burned and torn in various places, you saw burn marks through the holes in your clothes, and you felt like you had been stung by a million bees.

Your already labored breathing became panicked when the gravity of the situation hit you, causing your brain to go into a frenzy. The internal pain kept growing, a strangled scream burst from your strained lungs.

“Ma’am! I need you to breathe! I know it's difficult, but you need to try to calm down!” The young paramedic tried to help, but it just made you more unsettled. It felt like fire was coursing through your muscles, unintentionally tensing them up. Your sobbing turned into screaming as blue sparks flew out of your hands, bouncing off the surfaces of various pieces of medical equipment, but avoiding the medical personnel on board.

The next thing you new, you felt the prick of a needle and the sweet embrace of sleep.

After that, your life was forever changed. The chemical compound that you were working on had absorbed through your skin and mutated your cells. It enhanced your body’s natural healing process by 65% as well as “blessed” you with the ability to manufacture and control electric currents. This quickly got the attention of a certain group of super people, and now you were attempting to not only adjust to your new living situation at the Avengers compound, but also your new life as a walking storm.

Being the new kid on the block was never easy. Now take that and add in Captain America, Iron Man, and all of the other Avengers, and you got a whole new kind of “not easy.” You couldn’t find it in yourself to talk to most of them. While they had shown you nothing but kindness and acceptance, you were still nervous about everything. The only one that had been able to get through to you was Bucky. He knew what it was like to be in your position, so he was the first one to really approach you as you were moving in.

The two of you would frequently be sitting together in your room, doing your own work, working on focus and control, or just watching movies. Bucky would sometimes make you move to other rooms so you got more acquainted with the facility and being around the others.

Today was one of those days.

You were working out an idea that you had stuck in your brain while Bucky was watching a movie that you had recommended him. He was just about to get to a good part of the movie when you heard the audio cut off.

“C’mon, (Y/N/N).”

“Where are we going?”

“I need food and you need a change of scenery.”

You learned that arguing with Bucky was useless. He would just throw you over his shoulder and make you move. So you just grabbed your stuff and followed him out of the room. You ended up in the kitchen, sitting at the table while Bucky fixed you both some lunch. He had just sat down to eat, when his phone went off.

“Ugh. Steve needs me to help him with a gameplan. I’ll catch you later, okay?”

“Alright. I think I’m gonna stay here. I have my stuff set up already.”

“Sounds good. You better actually eat.”

“I will. Go find your boyfriend.” You teased. Bucky threw you a look over his shoulder before disappearing.

You quickly realized how quiet it was since everyone was busy doing their work, or on a mission. Reaching for your phone, you hit the music app, and selected the playlist of songs that had been stuck in your head recently.

The sound of the guitar quickly took your mind off of everything expect the project you had been working on: a set of wrist braces that would help control the electrical impulses that your “gift” sent through your body. You had a decent handle on it, but these would act as a security blanket.

You got back to sketching out the details, and brainstorming what materials you could use. “Sweet Child of Mine” helping you ease your mind.

“Oh, oh, oh

Sweet child o' mine

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Sweet love of mine

She's got eyes of the bluest skies

As if they thought of rain

I hate to look into those eyes

And see an ounce of pain

Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place

Where as a child I'd hide

And pray for the thunder

And the rain

To quietly pass me by”

Two things slipped your notice during the verse of the song: You had quietly started to sing along, and Tony had walked in to get his umpteenth cup of coffee. The only reason you realized he was there at all was when he interrupted your train of thought, causing your pencil to scrape across the bottom of your workbook.

“How do you even know that song?” It took a second for you to respond, you weren’t really ready for interaction with anyone else tonight.

“Um… I grew up on this type of music. My sister was into it and forced me to listen.”

“Your sister sounds like someone I could get along with very--”

“She’s dead.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t--”

“It’s fine.” You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to refocus on your schematics. You heard Tony walk towards the table and lean over your shoulder. He picked up one of the various sheets of paper you had spread out.

“What’s this all about?” He seemed genuinely curious, which shocked you.

“Well… It’s an idea I had this morning. Thanks to me being a glorified lightning rod, I was trying to think of a way to protect myself, and others, from any outbursts.”

Tony scanned over the different styles and asked you to explain each one, wanting to hear your reasoning for keeping one element or changing something. You were nervous at first, but when he sat down next to you, and showed how invested he was in your thought process, you found it easier talking to him. After you explained the blueprint you were currently working on, Tony went silent, which made you uneasy.

“So.. Uh… Wha-what do you think, Mr.Stark?”

“First off, it’s Tony.” He flipped through the various papers until he found the one he was looking for. “Second, I think if you combine these two, you got a chance.”

“I’m- I don’t understand?”

“Keep drawing out ideas. I’m sure that brain of yours will come up with a few ways.” He patted your back before grabbing his coffee, leaving you feeling a bit overwhelmed. Before he could get far, Tony popped his head back in the kitchen.

“Come to the lab tomorrow at some point. Let’s see if we can get that doodle to dance.”

Tags - @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @goodnightwife @witchymarvelspacecase @theeactress @sebby-staan @feelmyroarrrr @tomorraw @marvelous-imagining @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @badassbaker @httpmcrvel @reading-in-moonlight @to-the-road 

[xhaotixaesthetica]

College! Jaebum x Kinda Mad Genius! Reader

Starlink Intergalactic Navigator 

You are in: a genetic mutation of Gaia, the dwarf planet 

look at this cute ass idiot ugh my heart

so WE’RE GONNA SPICE HIS AU UP A BIT totally not because I’m already sick of the same reader inserts, just enjoy this as a story and don’t complain pls

in this au you’re an astrophysics and computer programming major, minoring in bioengineering

in other words, you’re smart af

like you’re one of those child prodigy kids

Graduated high school early and took a bunch of AP's and CLEP tests so you’re way ahead and somewhere in between a junior and a senior but since you’re so young, you just say you’re a junior

you literally have the IQ of a genius and a bunch of Ivy league schools got in a fight over you but you were like nah nah i want something fUn so you came to SEOUL WOO HOO

you get A's in everything without even trying but that's OK because it leaves more room for you to do more SCIENCE

currently in a polyamorous relationship between you, Math, and Science

you’re really fascinated by the complexity of the universe but at the same time really into physics and math so when you found out that astrophysics existed when you were like 12, you knew that was it for you

you barely have time to eat, much less be fashionable, so you wear pretty nothing but jeans, huge hoodies, Converse, and a super hero t-shirt underneath (same but just because i’m too broke to dress nice)

with good brains comes bad everything else and you’re a hot fucking mess

clumsy, notes scattered all over the place, writing astrophysics shit in the margins of all your papers and doodling constellations on them while the professor lectures, it’s bad

you’re actually kind of extroverted and hyper but you just focus all that energy into astrophysics so everyone thinks you’re a hermit

you’re not obsessed with video games and comic books specifically, you’re just obsessed with space

like Star Wars, Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, Ender's Game, Prey, Alien, Dead Space, and even Halo, you love em all, cause fuCkinGH spACE MAN same i’m a space gay

you aLwAyS pLaYS THE FUCKIN SPACE OVERTURE ON YOUR PHONE AND WALK IN SLOW MO INTO YOUR APARTMENT AND YOUR ROOMMATE IS LIKE I HAD TO WATCH THAT WITH MY OWN TWO EYES

always writing reminders on yourself but they only help 60% of the time because you’re a hot mess

you can play the harp and the sitar?? the most random ass instruments, you literally have your harp in your bedroom and your sitar in your lab and like they were gifts from one of your cousins and you’re really protective over them

whenever you have a mental block you sit cross-legged and start playing your harp/sitar and chanting OM or the lyrics to We Will Rock You and your roommates are like omg they really are a mad scientist

you don't mind relationships but like no one wants to be with you cause they think you’re kind of fucking insane so you try not to think about it and just blow stuff up in the chem lab

like you’re really excited, you’ll gladly talk to people and you’re really bubbly and happy and friendly but all you talk about is astrophysics??? and you’re not on like level one, no you started reading college level astrophysics books when you were 14, you’re like wayyyy past PhD level so it's like you’re speaking another language

and no one wants to hang out with you like they think it's cute how passionate you are and how fucking just warm and open you are but still no one wants to be around you cause you’re like some sort of mad scientist and they're not interested in what you’re talking about

but you keep a smile on your face and keep to your astrophysics even though you start to think something's wrong with you and start getting kinda sad

aw bby :’(

and tHEN THEY WERE ROOMMATES that's when Jaebum came along

Jaebum is majoring in Ancient Studies and minoring in Greek and he’s Captain of the Football Team

pretty much every male-attracted person likes him but ain't no one going near that boy cause he is T E R R I F Y I N G

wears all black and never says anything and then when you talk to him he just has this resting bitch face on with no expression and everyone's like I’ll I’ljust go now and he just continues reading

he’s always reading with his earbuds in, you bother him it's your funeral

and it's weird cause like he has friends a precious few and ppl know he's not cold with them so why’s he ALWAYS COLD AND APATHETIC TO EVERYONE ELSE LIKE YOU GOOD MATE???

knows he's terrifying and uses it to his advantage

has no problem glaring down people who reach for the same thing at the supermarket or try cutting in front of him at starbuck’s and they near shit themselves

does not give two shits about all the people staring at him all the time as long as they don't talk to him or interrupt his reading

stays at home unless he's at class, practice, or a game

on the Dean’s List, and a massive teacher’s pet

but still, people just like to admire him for his looks and gush about how mysterious he is and that really irks him cause no one wants to actually spend the time to get to know him he’s not even that mysterious, he’s actually a bit of a crackhead so he's like i don't need y'all i have the Gupta Dynasty to keep me company

youngjae and yugyeom rolling their eyes, like HeRe HyUnG GOES AGAIN

knows more about ancient worlds than the current world?? like sometimes mark catches him staring at technology like it's an alien concept and he's like dude you've had a cell phone since you were like 12, when was the last time you had a break from reading that, chill out for a second and come back to modern times

and jb just scoffs like i don't need your modern times and buries his head in the book again but he just wants someone who's able to talk about the present AND the past with him without ignoring one cause he thinks both are really important

anyways one day you were late to an 8am class and you were rushing and dropped some papers and Jaebum came across it and he was like what in ThE HELL IS THIS cause first of all it was almost completely illegible and then when he did manage to read it, he couldn't understand it cause it was real complex math and science shit and he looked at the name and he knew who you were cause you’re the campus genius and the campus crazy

so he hunts you down until he comes across your lab later on in the day and you’re frantically looking through your BILLIONS OF PILES of looseleaf paper and jb's just thinking about how much of a fit jinyoung would have if he saw this tomfoolery

and he handed you your stuff and you were so grateful and friendly and you reminded him of a crazier version of youngjae

he couldn't help but be curious when he saw the really complicated math and science going on on your paper and he was like what's that, how does it work, what's the history

for a full fifteen seconds, you looked at him like he was god incarnate and you like i'M gLaD yOu AsKeD

and you were talking really fast but the way your eyes lit up when you talked about astrophysics and the way the sun from the window illuminated your features jfc

jb didn't believe in love in first sight he swore he didn't

unless it was you

like even if you weren’t conventionally pretty and most people wouldn't even notice you, bummie didn’t care, it was like you were the goddamn sun or something

he stops you in the middle of explaining and he's like look you're going a bit too fast, so could you repeat what you said but just a lil bit . . . slower

and for a long moment, you were stunned jungshook because like this boi . . . this devastatingly handsome boy who blows everyone off and makes them wet their pants in fear wants to hear me rant to him about astrophysics

and he actually wants you to slow it down so he can understand instead of just pretending to listen

and like you may be a genius but JB just broke your brain for a second

but then you jump back into it like yeah sure

and jae honestly finds you fucking adorable like how excited you get about astrophysics and he actually finds himself interested in it and then he starts talking about ancient cultures and greek and you already kinda know everything he's talking about and enjoy the conversation and he's all heart eyes

gets protective over you after like 2 days???

you don't care, you’re just happy there's someone who thinks you’re interesting so you don't even notice him glaring at anyone who talks to you and always hanging around you to scare other guys off

tbh bummie doesn't really comprehend why people don't like being around you cause like??? you’re so fucking pretty and cute?? you took all his uwus reader

only takes like 10 days before JB finds out you’re really affectionate and you’re hugging and cuddling all the time but he actually???likes it

and soon he's the one begging you for cuddles and you’re like ( ^_^) ofc babe lemme just finish doing these calculations right quick and JB's like asdfghjkl did they just call me what i think they just called me

but like you guys are always hanging at your lab and since JB doesn't really talk except with you and his friends and you never talk about anything but astrophysics on the off chance she gets back to the dorm in time enough to talk at all no one knows that you guys are even hanging out

it's not long after that jae asks you out and he takes you to an amusement park and you have a FiElD dAy because sooooooo much math? and pretty colors? and cotton candy? and he's made you the happiest person ever and in that moment when he sees your face he just can't help himself like pls be my s/o and you’re like ASDFGHJKL ARE YOU PLAYING WITH ME RIGHT NOW JFC OFC

and he just drops a bomb on his friends like they're all going out to dinner and he brings you and he's got his arm around your waist and he's just like guys meet my s/o and everyone's choking like S/O We ThOuGhT YoU wErE aRo oR sMtHiNG and for a minute they're so confused because no one even knew jaebum was talking to someone much less the mad scientist person when did this happen

and like they can see all throughout dinner that you’re really fucking strange but it's kind of cute and it makes bummie happy so Welcome to the Family, we have cookies

lol friends? nope, say goodbye to those, everyone is so terrified of bummie and his resting bitch face and them muscles that they refuse to come near you cause you’ve basically got Jaebum stamped on your forehead but that's ok because somehow you became really good friends with his friends and like you have this group chat that jae's not in specifically so they can share embarrassing things for you to tease him about later

but bummie highkey encourages it because if he pretends to get mad, you’ll play your harp for him and he loves that shit

jaebum will knock the living daylights out of anyone who mistreats you or makes you feel bad

like one time yall were walking back after a date and this dude grabbed your ass and was about to open his mouth to say some vulgar shit but he didn’t even get the chance before jaebum LEAPED ON HIM LIKE A FUCKING INSECT AND MOWED HIS ASS D O W N

jae had like two scratches on him meanwhile the dude on the floor probably needed a goddamn ambulance and he just took your hand and continued walking like anyways, like i was saying, no one can give me a valid reason why I shouldn’t get a cat

yall will 10/10 adopt a cat together

well it was supposed to be one but yall were weak bitches, so it turned into 3 same

at first yall rotated the cats between y’all’s apartments but then you were both like let’s just fucking move in together omfg

bam bam constantly breaks into your apartment to play with your cats

you come and cheer jae on at his football games

the first time everyone was SHOOK 

for fuck’s sake, you just learned what a touchdown was when you infiltrated a superbowl party for the food sAME, why tf were you even here

but then they saw jae beam at you and they were like omfg, they’re these people

when they win, he runs up and scoops you into his arms and spins you around, pressing a bunch of kisses all over your face and calling ou his good luck charm and you’re screaming at him for hugging you while he’s sweaty and gross even though you’re laughing and kissing him back

when he loses, you and him go to McDonalds after he showers and you just sit at a table eating while he nuzzles his head in your neck and sulks

reader, i highkey advise you to get a couple tats or a body piercing and not tell him

just have your hoodie off one day so he happens to see the tat/piercing and you’ll see his eyes darken and he’s trying to keep calm like

“i didn’t know you had tattoos/piercings”

and he’s looking down at you so intensely he’s almost glaring

“i do, wanna try and find them all?”

you did it

you activated beast mode

whenever jae sees you upset or sad, he’ll just engulf you with his whole body and you can smell his aftershave and feel his warmth while he puts on calming music and tells you greek myths in that smooth, soothing voice

and when you have your head on his chest, half asleep, he’ll just kind of stop for a second because holy fuuck, you’re so gorgeous and you’re his? how did he land you?? he’s the luckiest guy in the world?

and when you look up, wondering why he stopped talking, you see him looking at you with just this really soft, mushy look of complete adoration and before you can even say anything, he’s like i fucking love you

I WAS GONNA WRITE MORE, BUT I GOTTA END IT NOW, I’M FUCKING SOFT HNNNGGH 

Gaia, the dwarf planet 

[inkypeppergidget]

Oh man, it’s been years since I saw a mutuals only blog that I can recall that all their posts were only open to mutuals all the time, but those are few and far inbetween from what I’ve seen.  SOMETIMES there is a writing prompt or meme that is understandably mutuals only, such as “send a symbol and my muse will tell of a happy/sad/etc memory with your muse”. 

Those have to be mutuals, as that takes prior knowledge of the other’s muse to write accurately for. 

If I get some random werewolf wanting a memory of them and Ink together and I’m not familiar with this character I, the mun, have no idea how to write that. That doesn’t mean you can’t PM the mun of the blog  and ask if you can plot with them. If they say no, inquire what it takes to be a mutual. Usually those folks will be open to plotting something with you, especially since a mun who genuinely just wants to write good content rarely reaches out this way.   There’s other instances, and yeah if I specify a prompt is mutuals only there’s usually a reason like the aforementioned one, or 

whatever I’m doing takes a lot of work and I’d rather do that for friends than randoms 

(I see this with art sometimes, and understandably as a moment of one person being happy seeing their character is often HOURS of work on the other person’s part if it isn’t a quick doodle.) I remember a friend did this, and people kept responding on anon without telling who they were or their blog, and he kept saying, “anon, did you forget I drew you already” and linking back to the first anon they drew like it was all the same person. Was pretty funny. But if all the blog is “mutuals only” and you want to interact with that blog? Send them an out of character PM and ask them what it takes to become a mutual. 

Sometimes a blog goes into mutuals only mode because the mun has little IRL time and wants to hold onto their friends during this stressful time and write RPs with existing relationships rather than write with a bunch of randoms. 

Hoooonestly sometimes I’ll do that as randoms in the past turned me into a content generating machine (i.e. I put forth interesting plot and possibilities for my partner to respond to and instead of adding something interesting for me to build upon my partner ONLY reacts ic to what I wrote, and now I’m stuck in this crap rp while I entertain my partner and they put nothing into it. And then they get upset when I abruptly write an ending BECAUSE I AM NOT HAPPY AND I WANT OUT.) So I get that sometimes a mun is stressed and doesn’t want to deal with that possibility, and would rather keep writing with partners they know will give back writing they both enjoy.  Other times I can understand that a muse is in a certain plot point where they don’t want random people altering their muse’s story. With Ink, when Ink-centric plot is happening, you better believe the major players in that plot and I are talking and planning out of character, usually on Discord chat. Randoms I don’t know I usually don’t have a mun relationship with yet, and sometimes they’ll do sh#t just to have bragging rights later of “yeah I was the one who fed poison to Ink and made their face melt off.” For random stuff on the blog, yeah that happens. When I’m building character arcs and defining a species and telling their backstory, randoms doing random stuff and derailing plot is not what I want. So understandably they’d get blocked from that. Hell sometimes I’ve even been messaged by people wanting to be a part of my big plots- and I see later they just did it because they want the notoriety from it and don’t actually want to put in the work of writing and other stuff that’s hard to do on my own. So day one of the campaign rolls around after they’ve promised to do all this help so their muse can be IMPORTANT in the plotline and they either don’t show up at all, or they show up for the beginning, then disappear because they got their “fix” and now I have a random muse rooted in the plot who is now an obstacle to know what to do with and fill in the plot they were meant to because their mun isn’t writing for them anymore. It’s pretty irritating. So I totally understand muns who say, “I want a reliable writing partner I know for this prompt.”  Rarely do I ever see an entire blog that is mutuals only. 

There’s usually SOME posts or plots that are open,

 otherwise how do you meet new mutuals/friends?

If you really want to write with someone and like their blog? Send them an ooc message. Ask them what it takes to be a mutual and if they’d write with you. 

Odds are if you just talk to them mun to mun they’d be flattered and you’ll be taking your first steps to being a mutual.  If they are the kind of blog that isn’t open to anyone but friends they already have, and refuse to give you a chance- why did you ever want to write with this person in the first place? 

Honestly, blogs that do this are so few and far inbetween I forgot they existed. I don’t really watch the name-grabbers I use to when I first started RPing (i.e. a blog who luckily grabs an easy to remember url like @askink or other mainstream well known characters). Those get massively popular, while their content isn’t any better than other RPers. They get overwhelmed with the amount of people trying to interact with them, and a few even let it go to their heads. If you get a blog like that, take a step back. 

Are you trying to interact with them just because they’re a popular well known blog and you want the validation/attention/notariety of being responded to?  Don’t be that guy please.

Yeah, you can send asks and requests, that’s fine. But don’t be the guy that gets butthurt if they don’t respond or have time to write with you. If you pick a popular blog that gets a lot of asks and you’re one in huge sea of popularity surrounding them, that’s par for the course and you know it. Some of my art friends have blogs that get popular and they’ve had people send them asks then guilt them to respond to those asks- do not do this! This makes you a terrible person, and makes these artists not want to run their blog anymore. They’re not being paid to entertain you, their blog is their place, not a tv channel you can go to to demand entertainment and validation. If you are an artist, don’t let people do this to you. Granted, this is the opposite of the “being shy” the original post touched on. If you’re sending nice messages, and asks not demanding they be answered, yeah sure do it. 

Send out lots of asks to all the blogs you’d like to interact with. They may not all be answered, so be happy in the ones that do respond. Send more to the blogs that responded as they’ll probably be the ones that keep responding rather than tossing your asks at already popular blogs that ignore them.

But don’t be a raging soapy washcloth because they don’t respond. Behind that popular url is just another regular person who usually has nothing to do with the franchise, they just got lucky getting the url OR ALREADY SPEND A LOT OF TIME GENERATING CONTENT so they don’t have time to respond to all the asks and requests they get. There are so many other awesome blogs out there who’d jump on the opportunity to be noticed, get asks, and write plot with you. They’re not popular, no. It’s up to you to seek them out, and they can be popular with you. Help them make great content, and you can be in their chosen circle. If you’re only interested in interacting with already popular blogs that want nothing to do with you, that seems like you need to reevaluate what you’re doing here. Odds are you aren’t one of those incurable fanboys/girls  

Go find them. Love them. Become the mutual you always wanted to be.

[17cafe]

seventeen college au valentine’s date

(with member of your choice!)

so a little backstory

you and him are in the same art class

and you both always make these little doodles that take just a minute while you do other work

they were always super cute and to be honest it made you find him super cute

long story short things kept happening and u two ended up with crushes on each other hehe

and you found out you liked each other hehehe

just one day before it was valentine’s day he got to class before you

which he was very relieved about

and tucked his little doodle for you under a tin of markers that were at your spot

when you got to class you saw the corner of paper sticking out and u were like

“oh wow i wonder who could have done this”

super sarcasm

you look around for him though but don’t see him anywhere

he was hiding behind a corner looking at u kind of sneaky

to see your reaction

but he was too shy to like be beside you when you looked at the doodle

when you moved the tin off of it and picked it up

and unfolded it 

you saw that the drawing was of you and him

and you were both holding this huge candy heart with equally huge smiles

and on the heart had the words “be mine?”

but in the bottom corner of the paper was another drawing

much smaller

of you both eating the candy heart because why let it go to waste

and you laugh then smile

when he sees you laugh he’s like hooo boy okay yes this is good

and he comes up to you finally

you’re actually so intrigued at how good the drawing is though it isn’t a normal doodle and you jump when he puts his hands on your shoulders

so you turn around and you’re smiling super wide and he’s smiling super wide and you’re like aWWWWW and hug him super tight

the other students in the room were going awww too

and some were ignoring u too but hey that’s okay

in response to the “be mine?” on the heart you say “yes do you even have to ask !!!”

he’s like i wasn’t sure! you can’t blame me! you play footsies under the table with the guy that sits across from us

you’re like uh do u really think that means he’s my boyfriend or something??

he’s like yeah

and you’re like hhahhaha !!! and he’s like ahaah

then the teacher is like okay kids sit down

and class starts

later on after school you stay a couple extra minutes to finish your assignment because you were almost done!! thankfully art was last class of the day for you

he stays with you of course 

after a little while it was just you and him left because the other students all rushed outta there and the teacher left to go bake some clay

you bring up the footsies thing again and you start ranting

not angry ranting but just ranting nonstop

and he literally out of nowhere was like hey...and pecks your lips real quick so you stop talking

you actually gasp and put your pencil crayon down before leaning and kissing him back but on the cheek

he blushes SO HARD

he grabs your hand and bag and drawing and just pulls u out of the room and ur like WHAT are you doing

he doesn’t say anything and pulls you to the library

and sits at a secluded table and it’s so sosoososooo sweet

he just holds your hand and plays with your fingers and he just asks about your day and kind of mumbles things sometimes that u ask him to repeat

and it’s always something like “oh.. i just said you look cute when you make that face..”

the smile and faint blush never leaves his face as you guys talk with each other.. until one of the library workers is like hey we’re closing get out

now its an hour and a half since school ended and u guys are lke woah what

but he’s still holding onto your hand and grabs your bag for u again and leads you outta there

and there’s nobody in the hallways so u guys just wander around in the school and keep talking

but soon your phone rings and ur like whoop! i know what that is gotta go home 

and you pout because you love spending time with him…

but he’s like “no that face is too pretty to pout”

boom your mood is instantly brighter

and he just smiles because he Knows and he’s like alright which way

you’re like ????

he’s like which way to your home

and he obviously walks you home

of course before you open the door to go inside he kisses your forehead.. and he’s like I’ll see you tomorrow right?? it’s valentines day you better come to school :((

and you’re like yes of course i will see you tomorrow!! and he grins and winks and says “tomorrow it is then”

when you go inside and close the door you just sigh and squeal and that dork is jumping around as he walks away and hops all the way home wow he’s such a happy boy

so tomorrow comes aka ~valentine’s day~

art class is right in the morning 

and neither of you have afternoon classes !!

he got up early to look good for u.. he did his hair how you like it and wore a button up shirt with these nice black pants ooo

he got you candy hearts like the drawing and some flowers but shh you don’t know yet

also he drew another picture last night but wait for that ok

he came early because he wanted to be there before you again

he’s checking his hair and breath and making sure his shirt is all nicely resting with no wrinkles or anything

and he’s waiting in the art room beside the door when you come in

you don’t see him n hes like yes my plan worked

he silently follows you and waits until you sit down and whispers “happy valentine’s day~~” and holds the flowers and candy and folded drawing out in front of you and ur like WOAHH

OH BOY

HE PUTS ALL THE STUFF ON YOUR TABLE AND LITERALLY JUST. SPINS YOUR CHAIR

and kiss e s you

and it’s short but passionate and like it sucked the life out of you that was so unexpected

and he pulls back at looks at you all dazed and smiles

both of you are so red

he turns your chair back around and tucks you in before he takes his seat next to you and points to the flowers because he doesn’t want you looking at him he is TOO SHY

“do you like them?? they aren’t valentine colours but they reminded me of you~” because there’s yellow flowers mixed with the pink

and inside u are a total mess like crying but a good cry with heart eyes..

he’s giggling like crazy and you unfold the drawing finally and this boy

“im glad you like the flowers because–”

he drew your faces from side angles and your noses are touching and like the other drawing you both have those big scrunchy smiles

and you CANT you just hug him so tight and wrap your legs around him too because your chairs are against each other like one long chair and just

the other students coming in now are all smiley and some “awww” at you guys and you pull away but

he opens the candy container thing and picks one and brings it up for you to read before putting it in your hand

it’s one that said “be mine?”

more people are smiling and cooing at you guys and you hide your beet red face

he hides his face too but sees you doing it still and whispers in your ear

“you okay?”

you nod but still hide your face and he rubs your back and leans his head on the table right beside yours and hes trying to look at you

“lemme see that pretty face? pleeease?”

soon enough when class starts though he goes and gets the paints and brushes you always use & your project and brings everything to you

he gets to work but wraps his leggies around yours and you’re like ??? but he just keeps doing his own thing

u let it happen no questions just smiles

at the end of class he cleans up all his and your stuff for you too :’) 

and you assume he just didn’t bring a bag or anything today because he has nothing with him

he just picks up all of your stuff and says

“we’re going out to get lunch today!”

and you’re just like ok sunshine!

he’s like o no i should be calling you that...

so you’re like “well why didn’t you”

“dang u right.. i’m sorry prince/ss” and he looks around once again seeing practically nobody in the room then kisses your cheeks like 10 times

all this luck of being nearly alone in a public place wow

you guys go to this small casual restaurant about a block away

you to pick a table as he orders and pays in advance because he knows it’s a good place they never mess up

you come back and ask “what did you order for us?”

he smiles at the word “us” and looks down shyly 

doesn’t respond and picks up where you left off from the conversation after school yesterday

he lightly takes hold of your hand and stares at you so admiringly as you talk

the food all comes soon and ok are you ready

spring rolls with the sauce in a heart shaped dish

sandwiches cut in the shape of a heart

red drink with heart straw

dessert was a cupcake with pink icing and a bit of ice cream in the shape of a heart too

and you were like wo w they’re really in the valentine’s spirit!! and he was like hehe yeah

but really he had to request it and pay extra for all that but it was worth it because he loved when you giggled and smiled so much

when you guys finish eating and talking and get up 

and when you’re at the door just about to leave the waiter comes up with one last thing

a heart balloon!! and hands it to you and u look at your boy

he shrugs and he’s like idk where that came from

you’re like well i do you goober and peck his lips and he’s like heHEEe

he caresses your cheek and kisses you back but you pull away kind of quickly because this is a public place

after leaving the restaurant you guys just walk around the neighbourhood talking and laughing and sneaking lil kissies in here and there

you end up laying in the field by your school and again luck is on your side because nobody else is out there and it’s a bit chilly but sunny and nice

so it’s just you guys on the grass

holding hands and he sings this little song he made for you after getting over his shyness about it

and it makes you fall so much harder

you tied the balloon to your wrist but somehow it came undone

and at one point the balloon flies up and you yell !! and he jumps up and you do too and jump onto his back and you touch the ribbon but it gets away :((

you huff and you’re so sad and lay limp on his back n in a soft voice he’s like “baby it’s okay hey it’s okay”

extra cuddles and kisses as u pretend to stay sad and say it was the most special balloon because he got it for you

tickles you a little so you laugh and man

keeps kissing u so much he can not get enough

they’re always so soft and warm just so delicate

it’s overwhelming because you’ve never really kissed before and now so many in one day !!! but it’s exciting!!

at one point you’re kind of on top of him attacking him in kisses to “get back” at him n you bring your hands up for better balance and end up tickling his sides and he jumps

you’re like >:))

continue the tickling and “revenge” kisses and omg

even though he’s laughing so hard all you hear is silence because you’re just focused on his face and how purely happy he seems and it’s like wow.. i caused that

but you end up laying side by side fiddling with each others fingers

you see the dot of the balloon way up in the clear sky

you two just spend hours at the field sitting and talking and sometimes getting up and running away from the other as they threatened to tickle you 

soon enough it’s already getting dark?? you two were so caught up in each other that you didn’t even realize it

he thought dinner plans were too formal as you two just became a couple and you already went on the cute lunch date !! so he walked you home before it got too dark

you started rubbing your arms because you got cold

you had a jacket on already but he put his coat over your shoulders as well

when he dropped you off he got a little pouty

and you kissed him to make him smile again

of course he did

and of course he held your hands as he looked at you while you talked

he stood outside the door with you for a long time but then you got too cold and got a shiver

and he was like oh no okay go inside

he walked home in the dark and he was a little scared but that didn’t matter because he was so head over heels for you

when he got home he checked his phone and saw a message from you

but even before replying he called his mom and told her all about you omg

he couldn’t help himself

this... angel boy

likes you so much 

he will always do anything to make you smile 

and always protect you and help you and support you 

and love you 

and he knows you’ll do all the same

[ma-sulevin]

The Use in Being King

Day 2 of @alistairappreciationweek is all about Alistair as a king. In my self-indulgence AU, Alistair breaks up with Sophie Amell after the Battle of Denerim and ends up ruling Ferelden alone for a few years. Here he’s dealing with the pressure of being king, the stress of Teagan, and a still-mending heart.

He’s had lots of practice keeping a straight face when trying not to fall asleep in council sessions. The trick, he’s found, is not to blink too much. Blinking makes him want to keep his eyes closed, and he’s promised Teagan he won’t fall asleep in the middle of another meeting, not after the first time.

Another trick is to pretend to take notes and just doodle little mabari all over the paper instead. The scribe takes the real notes, and Teagan takes better ones than Alistair does even when he actually tries.

It doesn’t usually matter. The issues are almost always trivial, or ones he just needs to sign. He takes more of an interest when it comes to the Wardens, or to the alienage, and at least they listen when he puts his foot down. It took them a while to realize he was actually going to be the king and not just a puppet.

But sometimes… he wishes he was just a puppet.

He calls the meeting to an end when it’s clear no more work is going to get done, and the council files out with only minimal grumbling. Teagan remains behind, as is his way, waiting until they’re alone before he brings up the same thing he always does.

“Have you looked at the dossier I gave you?” His tone suggests he knows what the answer will be, but Alistair gives him his best unimpressed look and answers anyway.

“Haven’t found the time,” he says and grins when Teagan barely manages to suppress an eye-roll.

Teagan still sighs. “You--listen, it’s been long enough, Alistair. Ferelden needs a queen, it needs heirs, and you have to stop dragging your feet and be a man about this.”

Alistair’s grin vanishes as quickly as it came, replaced by an ache behind his eyes. It always seems to come when talking to his uncle--especially about Ferelden’s need for a queen.

Just because Teagan is right doesn’t mean he has to be happy about it.

“Just look at it, please. The Cousland girl would be a very good match for you, we think, and she’s--”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Alistair demands, voice sharper than usual. It makes Teagan swallow whatever else he was going to say, eyes widening and cheeks turning pale. It’s Alistair’s king-voice, the one he rarely finds he has to use.

It lets everyone know he’s ready to be serious.

“Er--” Teagan hedges. “Myself, of course.” Another pause. Alistair grits his teeth together and feels his headache growing stronger. “Eamon. The rest of the council--”

Alistair rubs at his forehead for a moment before running his fingers through his hair. It makes the front stick up a bit, out of the style from that morning, and he ignores the way Teagan frowns at it. “I’ll look at it later, Uncle.”

Then he turns and walks away, leaving Teagan -- and his notes -- behind. The door slams behind him, unintentional, but he can’t bring himself to feel bad. He lifts his chin and lengthens his stride, his shoulders square enough that even the boldest of nobles won’t stop him if they see him.

He’s tired of being king. So tired. This is nothing like the life he imagined for himself when Duncan recruited him to the Grey Wardens, nothing like the life he imagined for himself when he first fell in love. This life is nothing like the one he wants.

He’s nearly jogging by the time he makes it back to his room -- his chambers, too big to really just be called a room -- and those doors slam closed too. He shucks the fine clothes expected of him as king and slips into more comfortable, more simple, trousers and tunic. He laces up a pair of sturdy boots and leaves his rooms a mess behind him.

He keeps his head down this time, but he still walks quickly. He finds people are less likely to notice him when he dresses like a regular person, though it’s becoming less reliable the more times he tries it.

No one stops him as he leaves the main part of the castle, and he makes his way to the stables without interruptions.

He stops just inside the door and takes a deep breath. He lets it out with a smile and makes his way through the hall around to the back.

Here, away from stray breezes and curious strangers, is his favorite part of the whole city. He’s been working on breeding and training more mabari to add to the army, and though he hasn’t taken one for himself yet, he still loves to come watch the little ones play.

He picks up speed and then slides to a stop, dirt clouding around his feet, when he sees that he isn’t the only visitor to this place. A woman stands before him, her elbows resting on the half door that keeps the puppies in their stall, her chin in her hands. Her dark hair is long, spilling over her shoulder and blocking her face from him.

She doesn’t look up until he starts walking again, his footsteps echoing dully around the stable. She jumps and stares at him, eyes impossibly wide, and she hurries to stand straight. She fumbles into something that’s half curtsey, half bow, and Alistair struggles not to sigh.

Instead, he waves his hand dismissively. “None of that.” She freezes, head still bowed, and then she stands up straight and clasps her hands behind her back. “I see I’m not the only one who enjoys watching them play.”

She relaxes immediately, a wide smile springing to her face. Alistair’s eyes drop to her dimples, then -- against his will -- to trace down her body. She’s dressed in riding clothes, in men’s riding clothes actually, that look rather fetching on her. He tears his gaze away, but she’s already turned back to looking at the pups.

He moves to stand next to her, a respectful distance away, and mimics her posture. He props his elbows on the door, leaning down, and rests one foot behind him on the toes of his boot. The mabari mother glances up at them with tired interest, but dismisses them as harmless and lays her head back down. One of the puppies pounces at her, landing across her neck, and she heaves a great sigh that makes the woman giggle.

Alistair glances over at her again, smiling when he sees the soft expression on her face as she watches the pups play.

She doesn’t look familiar to him. The Denerim citizens aren’t supposed to be able to just wander into the castle, especially not this late in the day, but he didn’t get word that they were going to have any visitors -- did he?

He forgets to look away from her as he’s searching his memories, and she glances over at him with her lips twisting into a small smirk.

“I used to have a mabari,” she offers finally, giving him that bit of information instead of her name or anything that would help him identify her. She looks back down. “Oliver. We sort of grew up together, and he…” Her voice catches, and she clears her throat before trying again. “He died during the Blight.”

She’s frowning now, and Alistair’s heart seizes in his chest.

“Oh--I’m, I’m so sorry,” he stammers. She looks back at him, eyes wet but cheeks dry. “I didn’t, uhh…”

She smiles again, and he relaxes somewhat. “It’s okay,” she says, softly. She extends one hand as though to comfort him, but quickly pulls it back as her cheeks turn a lovely shade of rose. “It’s been a few years, but I still miss him.”

Silence falls again. Alistair stares down at the pups, still so young. One is sleeping on his back, snoring, little paws up in the air where he fell in the middle of wrestling with his brothers.

An idea springs, not quite fully formed, into Alistair’s mind. These are too young, but…

“Here, look.” He grabs for the woman’s elbow but releases it before he has time to get embarrassed. She follows him easily enough, deeper and to a different stall, where six older mabari pups rest without their mother. They’re in a little pile, all snores and big ears and wagging tails, and they don’t perk up until Alistair starts to speak again. “These are old enough to be imprinted.”

The woman freezes. She stops breathing even, just for a moment, then she turns her whole body to face him. “No.” The objection leaves her lips in a gasp even as her eyes begin to shine. “I -- you can’t.”

Alistair fights back a laugh and presses a hand to the center of his chest. “I can’t? No one else has told me that.” She bites her lip, wavering, so he pushes a little more. “What’s the use in being king if I can’t give away mabari to beautiful women?”

She turns even pinker at that, but he seems to have won her over because she nods rapidly.

“I can’t guarantee anything, but…” he steps back and opens the stall door, pulling it back enough so that she can slip inside. He closes the door behind her, trapping her with the puppies, and she immediately drops to her knees and extends her arms.

The pups erupt into activity, scrabbling all over each other to reach the new human. They’re all a pretty uniform brown color, black noses and inquisitive brown eyes, little stumps of wagging tails all ready to be petted.

She scoops them up and coos to them, kissing their little faces when she can pull them close enough. One is trying desperately to get her attention, little yips leaving its mouth, its front paws up on her shoulder. She scoops it up as soon as she sees it, holding it like a baby and rubbing her face against it.

Alistair leans against the door and smiles, chin resting on his hand, watching her cooing over the pup. Drawn by the noise of voices and little barks, the kennel master emerges from wherever he spends his nights. He nods a greeting at Alistair and comes to stand next to him, looking down at the strange woman.

She gazes up at them with bright eyes, a question on her face as plain as the hope that tints her cheeks pink and makes her lips twist up at the corners.

The kennel master grunts at her. “Looks like she’s chosen ye,” he mutters. If Alistair hadn’t spent so much time here, he’d think the man annoyed. The woman blinks at him, her eyebrows starting to draw together. “Ye’ll have to take her with ye now or there’ll be no comforting her.”

The woman stands up, the other puppies scattering from her sudden movements, the one in her hands still licking at every inch of skin she can reach. She clutches the puppy a little closer, letting her front paws rest against her shoulder, and turns to Alistair.

“Thank you,” she breathes, voice serious.

He opens his mouth to brush away her thanks, but the kennel master interrupts by shoving a bag of supplies at the woman.

“Collar, food, bone,” he says, voice gruff to hide the sadness that comes from saying goodbye to one of his mabari. The woman takes the bag and slings it over her shoulder, mumbling thanks and praise as Alistair steps away and lets her out of the stall.

The pup starts to squirm as soon as the woman starts to walk, and she struggles to contain her for a moment before smiling apologetically. “I need to get her settled in,” she says. She looks from the kennel master to Alistair and back again. “Thank you.” She dips another little half-curtsey half-bow, the dog gives a little yip, and then they disappear together.

Alistair watches her go, then turns to the kennel master. “Who was that?”

The older man starts, then frowns. “Why would I know?” He shakes his head and turns away from Alistair, shuffling back to wherever he’d appeared from in the first place.

Alone, again, Alistair runs his hands through his hair and pulls lightly on the strands. He should probably just… go to bed.

---

“Did you read that dossier last night?”

Alistair’s right eye twitches at Teagan’s words, both because of the irritating reminder and at the answer he knows he’s going to get in trouble for: “...no?”

Teagan sighs and rubs his temples where his hair is already graying, but he doesn’t look surprised at all. Just… resigned. Tired, with lines around his eyes when he looks back up to meet Alistair’s bland expression. “Well, it’s too late for that now,” he grumbles, and Alistair’s eyebrows shoot up.

Has Teagan given up? Has Ferelden accepted that he’s going to die on the throne -- sooner rather than later, thanks to the taint -- alone?

He clears his throat and shifts in his seat, trying to distract that train of thought before it makes him want to forget whatever Teagan has planned for him and climb right back into bed.

He almost misses the rest of Teagan’s explanation: “...she’s here now, waiting to meet you.”

“No.” Alistair doesn’t hesitate. He knows he isn’t interested.”

Teagan stands a little straighter. “You don’t have to marry her today, Alistair,” he says, voice sharpening. “You just need to meet her and Teyrn Cousland, eat breakfast, and then we can send them right back to Highever if you want.”

Alistair resists the childish urge to whine. If he’d been asked before if he wanted to meet the teyrn, he would have given an unequivocal no. But since they’re already here, it would be rude to ignore them. It might even cause some sort of political scandal that would involve apologies and gifts and a lot more work than a simple breakfast.

Teagan sees the moment Alistair gives in and claps his hands together. “Excellent. They’re already waiting.” He grins, an annoying little expression that Alistair wants to wipe away.

He doesn’t.

He just follows behind Teagan through the hallway to the lovely hall with the large fireplaces that they use for smaller dinners -- and, apparently, breakfasts. Two soldiers stand guard on either side of the door, and they both bow low before opening the double doors to allow Alistair and Teagan to pass through.

A conversation is already taking place, hushed tones between siblings that Alistair can still clearly hear.

“You shouldn’t have brought her.” The man, Teyrn Cousland -- Fergus? -- hisses, annoyance and exasperation clear in his tone.

“I couldn’t very well leave her with the maid,” the woman says, sounding more amused than Fergus, and Alistair actually freezes mid-stride at the sound of her voice. Teagan bumps into his back and makes a little huffing sound at the interruption. “And, anyway,” she continues after a pause, “he gave her to me.”

Teagan pushes at him again and Alistair finally starts moving, aiming for the head of the table but keeping his eyes on that woman from the night before. She and Fergus stand quickly, and as Alistair moves to be able to see their faces, he sees the mabari pup sitting at attention in one of the chairs.

His face breaks into a wide smile, and when he looks up he sees Fergus and the woman both bowing to him.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, your majesty,” Fergus says, and stands straight. He glances at Teagan, then back to Alistair. “May I present my sister, Ophelia Cousland?”

Ophelia. Ophelia. Oh fee lee ah.

She shoots her brother a dirty look, not at all concerned with propriety in front of the king who waved off her curtsey the evening before. She’s wearing a dress today, a fine one from what he can tell, but he finds he prefers her riding clothes from their last meeting. The dress looks wrong somehow, and when she smooths her fingers over the corset and smiles back at him, he realizes it’s because she’s uncomfortable.

“Lia is fine,” she corrects, still smiling. Teagan stiffens a little and clears his throat at Alistair’s side, but Alistair ignores him.

“Lia,” he echoes, and her smile grows, showing him her dimples once more. He looks down at her mabari who perks up a little under his attention, cocking her head to the side and letting out a tiny bark. Even Teagan has to smile at that. “It’s nice to see both of you again. Does she have a name yet?”

Lia’s face turns that lovely shade of pink again, but she doesn’t look away as she answers: “Princess.”

Alistair can’t help the little chuckle that burbles out from the center of his chest. “A fine name,” he says, still smiling, and he can’t help but think that maybe -- just maybe -- this isn’t the worst plan Teagan has come up with after all.

[Ophelia/Alistair masterpost]

[burclay]

Be Held -- Chapter 5

“No one would think you were okay, B.”

Buffy stuck out her tongue at Faith. “At least I’m cute.”

ao3 chapter 1

The dreaded Scooby meeting did come, of course. After Buffy showered, she brought her food outside to find Kennedy talking to Xander and Giles, and as she came closer, she could tell that they were talking about what to do next.

“What about Cleveland?” Xander was saying.

“If we replace the Watcher’s Council in England,” Giles answered, “we will be able to send Slayers to every Hellmouth there is.” He paused when he noticed Buffy. “Hello, Buffy.”

“Hey,” Buffy said, joining the circle. “Is this the part where we realize we can’t actually sleep for the next three years?”

“Looks like it,” Xander said.

“Where’s Will?” Buffy asked.

“Still asleep,” Kennedy said. “That spell took a lot out of her.”

“Where’s Faith?” Xander asked.

“In the shower,” Buffy said. “Probably avoiding this conversation.”

“Actually, I’ve already spoken with Faith,” Giles said. “I’ve asked her to take a role in educating young Slayers. We have no clue how many there are going to be, and some of them will be coming from difficult and dangerous lives.”

Buffy nodded. “Like Faith.”

“Exactly," Giles said. "We’re going to have to organize, however." He turned to Xander. "Which is why I feel that we should go back to England.”

“That’s why?” Buffy asked. “Nothing to do with how much you miss scones?”

“What’s a scone?” Kennedy asked.

“It’s a British thing,” Xander told her. “Like crumpets, or Queen Elizabeth.”

“I do not want to go back to England because I miss scones,” Giles protested. “Or crumpets, or Queen Elizabeth, for that matter. I simply believe that we will be able to make use of the Council’s extensive resources and the foundation that already exists.”

“Shouldn’t we spread out?” Buffy asked. “We need experienced Slayers everywhere, right?”

“You and Faith should stay central,” Giles said. “As the Slayers with the most experience, we will need you to teach younger girls, and perhaps to step in when things get dire.”

“I’ll go anywhere,” Buffy said. “I’ve gotten over the idea of being able to choose.”

“Your life is yours, Buffy,” Giles said. “Perhaps you should consider taking a break before we start reorganizing.”

“I can’t,” Buffy said. “Not with all these new girls. Maybe when the new Slayers have some experience. Faith can’t teach them all herself.”

“It wouldn’t be just Faith,” Kennedy said. “I mean, I don’t have much experience as a Slayer, but I know stuff, right? Lots of us know stuff.”

Buffy sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I would do.” She looked at Giles. “I think I have to stay with you guys. I hate it, but I have to keep going. I have to help.”

“So, is England definite?” Xander asked.

“Not necessarily,” Giles said. “We will have to speak with Willow first, and Faith. We haven’t had long to recover.”

“Think there are any vampires near here?” Buffy asked. “I think Faith’s getting restless.”

“Just Faith?” Kennedy asked.

“Slayer’s gotta Slay,” Buffy sighed. “Seriously, I would love to just be able to kick back and watch some bad movies or something.”

“Could do some group training,” Xander said. “Get all the girls together, teach them to use their strength.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Buffy said. “I bet Faith’ll be in.”

“In for what?” Faith’s voice came from behind Buffy, and a moment later her arm was snaking around Buffy’s waist. “You can’t be already making plans?”

“Just to do some group training with all the girls later,” Buffy said. “So we don’t all get too restless without anything to Slay.”

“Yeah, I’m in,” Faith said. “Girls won’t know what hit ‘em.”

“No hitting,” Xander said.

“You know what we do, right?” Kennedy asked. “It’s mostly hitting.”

“If we don’t do something to keep these girls active, there’s going to be hitting,” Buffy said. “Trust me, Xander. You want us to do this.”

“Plus, you know, lots of girls bouncing around,” Faith said. “Sounds like your paradise.”

Buffy stared at Faith. “Ew.”

“Seconded,” Kennedy agreed.

“Just telling it like it is,” Faith protested.

“Can we talk about something else?” Giles asked. “Anything will do.”

Kennedy grinned, looking over Giles’s shoulder. “Hey, Willow!”

Buffy turned her head, looking past Faith. Willow was walking towards them, looking far more chipper than anyone had the right to be.

“Hey, Ken, everybody.” Willow stepped around Buffy and Faith to get to Kennedy, putting her arm around Kennedy’s waist the exact way Faith had done to Buffy minutes before. Suddenly conscious of this, Buffy took an uncomfortable step away from Faith. She could feel Faith’s eyes on her, but she ignored it.

“We were just talking about what to do now,” Buffy said. “Since the big evil is gone and all.”

“What, no one new’s shown up yet?” Willow asked.

“I think we’re allowed a day off,” Xander said. “Just the one, though. We’ll be looking out for something coming at us tomorrow.”

Everyone laughed.

“Wow. When did that become funny?” Faith asked. “I mean, I knew I was messed up, but I thought the rest of you were okay.”

“Did you really?” Buffy asked, looking at Faith. “In your heart of hearts?”

“Yeah, good point.” Faith grinned a glorious grin at Buffy. “No one would think you were okay, B.”

Buffy stuck out her tongue at Faith. “At least I’m cute,” she said, turning back to the rest of the group. “So, if we continue this conversation, are we going to come up with anything new?”

“Probably not,” Giles said. “But we all need to be thinking about the next step. I, for one, don’t want to stay in this motel much longer.”

“You got that right,” Faith said. “I give it one more night before the girls revolt.”

Buffy looked around. Most of the girls were in various rooms, but a few were in the parking lot, looking through shopping bags and chatting with one another.

“We should clean that up,” Buffy said, gesturing at the bags.

“We should keep the clothes in the bus,” Faith said. “In case the girls want them. Is it unlocked?”

“I don’t actually know that much about buses,” Giles said. “Can they be unlocked?”

“The driver’s got to get on somehow,” Xander said.

“I’ll figure it out,” Kennedy said, peeling away from the group. Willow went with her, holding her hand.

Buffy started grabbing shopping bags, hanging them on her arm. Faith followed, taking the full bags from Buffy and bringing them to the bus, which Willow and Kennedy had indeed gotten open. A minute later, all the bags were on the bus, and Buffy leaned against the yellow metal and pulled Faith next to her.

“What do we do now?” she asked. “And don’t say we have to watch bad reality shows anymore, because I think I’ll explode.”

“Think the room’s big enough to spar?” Faith asked.

“If you want to explain to the front desk that we killed their lamp, sure,” Buffy said. “I guess fights in the parking lot are frowned upon.” She looked around. “We really do have to get out of this motel.”

“We’ll find somewhere to go,” Kennedy said.

“Possibly England,” Willow added. “Lots of room in England.”

“Have you been there?” Faith asked.

“Yes, actually,” Willow said. “I spent a while on a very nice farm. There were horses.” She paused. “I’m actually not the biggest fan of horses. But it’s the thought that counts.”

“So,” Kennedy said, “what’s going on between you two? Because my lesbidar is tingling.”

“Your what?” Buffy asked.

“She’s making fun of me,” Willow said. “And being rude about things that are really none of her business.”

“It’s okay,” Buffy said, grabbing Faith’s hand. “Isn’t this the sort of thing I’m supposed to tell my best friend about?”

“Hey,” Faith said. “Don’t I get a say?”

“Sure,” Buffy said. “Say something.”

Faith looked at Willow. “I’m gay for your best friend.”

Kennedy snickered. “You ever need tips, let me know.”

“Tips on what?” Buffy asked.

Willow pushed Kennedy. “Stop it!”

Faith laughed. “Don’t worry about us, Kennedy. We’re doing just fine.”

“I need new friends,” Buffy groused. “Maybe even a new girlfriend.”

“Too bad,” Faith said. “You’re stuck with me.” She slung her arm around Buffy’s shoulders. “Chosen two, remember?”

Buffy looked around for Giles and Xander. She didn’t see them, so she let herself kiss Faith’s cheek.

“Can’t forget.”

She looked back to Willow and Kennedy, who were giving each other a decidedly knowing look.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Willow said.

“I called it weeks ago,” Kennedy said.

“Faith wasn’t here weeks ago,” Buffy said.

“Feels like weeks,” Willow said.

“Fair enough,” Faith said.

“Do we get to do group training now?” Buffy asked. “I can’t just sit here.”

“I’m in,” Faith said.

“Me, too,” Kennedy agreed.

“Not for me,” Willow said. “I’m no Slayer.”

“You’re free to watch,” Kennedy said. “I’ll get the girls.”

Training with one Slayer had always been fun. Training with twenty Slayers was astounding. Twenty people, moving with power and synchronicity, all following Buffy and Faith, all drawing from the same energy, was beautiful.

“Imagine when we have hundreds,” Buffy murmured to Faith, forearms locked in a choreographed combination.

“Doubt we’ll have them all in the same place,” Faith answered, throwing Buffy’s arm to the side and kicking her. They each reset their feet.

“I think I like leading them,” Buffy said, attacking.

Faith blocked. “Me, too.”

Buffy kicked. “Good to hear.”

They reset their feet.

That night, Buffy was the good kind of exhausted, the kind of exhausted that came from safe exercise and not a fight to defend the fate of the world. She ate the food Giles had gone to get while they were training, and she took a good long shower, and then she pulled on a random T shirt and stretched out on the bed while she waited for Faith to do the same.

When Faith got out of the shower, Buffy was on her stomach and doodling on a notepad she had found lying around. She looked up at Faith, in a loose shirt and wet hair, and sat up, putting her doodle aside.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Never better,” Faith said, sitting next to Buffy.

“Really?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s not saying much.” Faith sighed. “I just keep thinking about the girls who died, you know? All those Slayers. Their energy has power. But--”

“There could be more,” Buffy said. “I know.” She wrapped an arm around Faith and pulled her close. “That’s why it’s hard being in charge. Even when you save the world, you lose something.”

“Yeah. We should do something,” Faith said. “You know, for all those girls. A memorial.”

“We should. When we get settled we can put something together.”

“Yeah.”

A moment of silence. Faith laid her head in Buffy’s lap.

“So what do you think about England?” she asked.

“I’m not wholly opposed to tea,” Buffy said, fingers twining through Faith’s hair. “I mean, Giles likes it, so I might as well try it.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s far from home,” Buffy said, “but home isn’t an option anymore.”

“You know,” Faith said, “we could hang out at Angel’s hotel for a bit. He’s chill, and he’s got rooms.”

“We should suggest it to Giles tomorrow.”

“I’ll call Angel in the morning.”

“Cool.” Buffy leaned down. “Has anybody ever told you how soft your hair is?”

“I don’t let them get close enough,” Faith said.

They stayed like that for a while, Faith’s head in Buffy’s lap, Buffy’s hands in Faith’s hair, until Buffy leaned over and turned out the light and laid down, pulling Faith to a more comfortable position. Suddenly, Faith rolled over to the other side of the bed, facing away from Buffy.

“What’s wrong?” Buffy whispered.

“I don’t know,” Faith’s voice said. “I’m not good with the hugging.”

In the darkness, Buffy could see her curled in on herself.

“Thanks,” she said.

“For what?” Faith asked.

“Not running.”

“It’s no big, B.”

But Buffy, rolling to face away from Faith, thought maybe it was a bigger deal than Faith would ever admit.

“Night, Faith.”

“Night, B.”

Buffy fell asleep quickly. She woke up to an empty bed and rumpled covers.

[imperialotakubot]

PENO- Prototype Transcript

(The first thing we see is a pair of three friends on a boat, a sparkly, superhero-looking girl, a feline/human hybrid wizard and a neon-colored purple boy telling them a funny story)

???: Then, ignoring me and Mom's warnings, my dear ol' Dad found the racoon under the trailer and his flannel shirt was never the same again!

(The other two laugh)

???: Dude, you tell the best stories!

???: Yeah, you should be a comedian!

???: I should, shouldn't I?

???: Yeah, yeah!

???: *Looks at his watch* Say, since it's lunchtime, what do you want, folks?

???: A cheeseburger.

???: *Holding a fishing pole* Sushi.

???: In that case friendo, me and Gem are gonna go get some fast food at a joint somewhere since I'm really craving hotdogs right now.

???: Sounds good, I'll guard the boat!

???: Good.

???: See ya!

(The wizard rowed the boat to shore so the other two can step out, leaving him alone for a bit)

???: And now, for some "me" time. ^__^

(He hummed as he opened up a can of magic, glowing worms and when he tries to put it on the hook, be accidentally pierces his finger)

???: Ouch!~ whoops...

(He plucks the hook off his finger and magically fixes the wound in his finger with a vital of a neon yellow oil he dabs on the said-wound, instantly healing it)

???: Good ol' hyper-frankincense.

(He sets up the bait properly and casts it into the water~ a few seconds later, a large ball of light quickly shot out of the water and onto the boat)

???: GYAAA!! *in his head* This is just like the great potion-mix up all over again!!

(He took a closer look as the light faded to reveal a girl with red hair and a white dress curled up in fetus position)

???: Oh?

(The girl woke up, stretched out and yawned adorably)

???: Hello there, what's your name?

???: BabyDoll.

???: That's cute, it really fits you.

BabyDoll: *Blushing* Thanks again, you're too kind~ and your name is?

???: My name is-

(Wish's two friends return)

???: Wish, we're back!

???: How about that cruise-line food?

Wish: *To BabyDoll* That's my name!

Wish: I got something even better than sushi, friendos!

???: Oh?

???: And who is that?

???: Gem, Ted, this is BabyDoll.

BabyDoll: Hello.

Ted: Hi!

Gem: Hey there, what brings you here?

BabyDoll: ....I am searching for somebody.

Ted: *Notices how childlike she seems to be* Is it your Mom?

BabyDoll: If my Mother was a wanted thief and part-time internet troll, then yes.

Wish: Oh, my!

BabyDoll: But in all seriousness, I need to go, fast, before he steals yet another precious artifact! *she is about to run until Ted speaks up*

Ted: Wait, maybe we can help you...

BabyDoll: You can?

All Three: Sure!

BabyDoll: Thank you for your offer.

Gem: So who is this person exactly?

BabyDoll: His name is "Charlemagne Chartreuse" and for his crime sprees involving stealing the crown jewels of powerful figures across the world, hacking countless computers and Rick-Rolling the great Erin of the East during one of their speeches~ he is branded as Public Enemy Number One.

Wish: He sounds like a real wild card...

Gem: More like a pest.

Ted: Did he ever go to prison and just happened to break loose?

BabyDoll: Nope~ he's super elusive and after countless tries of catching him, all authority figures have failed miserably to even see him in real life since 1998, the year he tried to hijack that giant red robot....oh wait that might have been a year earlier.

All: Woaaaaah....

BabyDoll: After learning about him on the news, I was determined to find him~ no one thought that a mermaid princess at such a young age could actually be able to even nearly catch a thief but somehow, I did, once....when I was a little girl stumbling about in the dark, I saw him for myself, trying to steal my parent's crowns and I since I knew they  where gonna be unhappy about their stuff being missing, I simply punched him in the gut and yelled for my parents about a creeper in the throne room; but when the whole nation learned about my rare encounter, they believed I was lucky enough to come across him again so they granted me the body of a superhuman powerful enough to finally catch him, beat him at his game and get him out of the galaxy's hair forever.

Gem: So when do we go looking for this guy?

BabyDoll: News reports have speculated him arriving in the museum tonight at 11pm sharp to steal the legendary golden anchor so we're gonna hide in the nearby artifacts and keep a look out for him, then when he shows up, we quietly sneak up on him and break all his bones so he won't steal or hack anything again!

Gem and Ted: Cool!

Wish: Sounds dark and a liiiiittle complicated, so maybe we should freeze him?

BabyDoll: What if he thaws out?

Wish: What if he goes to the hospital to get an operation?

BabyDoll: Touché, pussycat.

Ted: It's settled, we should do both!

Gem: Wouldn't it be smarter to throw him in jail....on top of all three of your suggestions?

The Other Three: *Beat* Yeah! :D

(We cut to much later where we see them entering a museum, juuuust before it closes)

Manager: Thank you for touring our museum, have a nice time.

Gem: Thanks!

Ted: *Whispers* So when do when do we start hiding?

BabyDoll: In about 15 minutes, enough time for us to find the golden anchor.

Wish: Good thinking.

Gem: There it is!

(Gem pointed to the anchor on display, fawned over by a crowd of people)

Ted: In all of it's glory, too.

Wish: It's beaaaaauuuutiful!

BabyDoll: I wonder if it was a gift to a powerful figure...

Gem: Seriously, they wasted all that gold for a freaking anchor?

BabyDoll: Alright, that's enough of the commentary, we gotta hide fast!

(They spot a huge vase and squeeze inside of it, but Wish popped out since admittingly it wasn't that huge~ ^^')

Wish: *To the Vase* What am I, chopped liver?

(He spotted a statue of your typical Pieta piece)

Wish: Perfecto!

(He put 2 variants of magic dust on Mary's robes that made it as if it was actual fabric so he could fit snug underneath and keep an eye out for Charlemagne but moments later, he still hasn't shown up!)

BabyDoll: Where the booger is he supposed to be?

Ted: Yeah, it’s half-past midnight, what's taking him so long?

Gem: Maybe he had to take a not-so-quick stop at the little boy's room?

BabyDoll: Maybe it was just a wild rumor blown out of proportion, sorry I had you guys caught up in this ruse, we should just go home...

Ted: Don't feel bad.

Gem:  It was kinda fun hanging out with you today, even if we didn't get to catch a thief.

(They got out of the vase, but ended up getting stuffed into a duffel bag, where they found Wish)

Wish: Guys, Charlemagne is in the building!

BabyDoll: We can tell.....KAMEHAMEHA!!

(BabyDoll blasted herself and her friends out of the bag and into Charlemagne's face)

Charlemagne: AAAAAAARGH, I CAN'T SEE!

BabyDoll: Call it karma, Charlie Brownish-Green!

Charlemagne: It's you, the little twerp who ratted me out to the king and queen~ you'll never be able to catch me, ever!

(BabyDoll grabbed Charlemagne's ankle)

BabyDoll: I can!

(And then she bodyslammed him)

BabyDoll: And I will!

(Again...)

BabyDoll: I can!

(And again~ you probably see where this gag is going.)

BabyDoll: And I will!

(Wish got his elements together and casted a frost spell on Charlemagne, freezing him into a giant block of ice)

Charlemagne: *In his head* And to think, I thought I'd never met a popsicle I never liked.

Gem: Hey wait, how do we get out of the museum?!

Ted: Easy!

(Ted pushed the cold turkey into the duffel bag from before and attempts to smash a nearby window with him until the rest stop him)

All: DEAR GOD, NO!

Wish: If only I brought the right materials for us to phase out of the walls...

Gem: Actually we could ask one of the museum guards nicely to let us out!

Wish and Ted: Okay!

BabyDoll: And how do we know none of them fell aslee-*She spots one of the guards shaking hands with Gem*....Very well. :3

(Cut to the police station, where the gang present the bag to a cop at the local station)

BabyDoll: Man, I wonder how hyped my folks are gonna be when they hear about this!

Gem: Yeah, we're heroes!

BabyDoll: Thanks guys, I couldn't have done it without you...

Cop: Yup, it's Charlemagne alright, come take a look-'n-see.

(They are shown a crude doodle of a leprechaun-man exclaiming: "You'll never catch me Lucky Charlemagne!!" and holding a cereal box with Charlemagne's stuffed inside grinning with a drill in his hand)

Ted: ....Maybe I should have gotten that hole in the bag patched up.

(And the chaos continues...next time)