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elyaequestus · 5 months ago

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Saddle

A short story (~1600 words) set in the Knight and Angel AU. See my other post if you want more context though it is possible to be understood as a stand alone.

Illiad stared at Daisy’s saddle as if it were mocking him. He had already oiled the saddle, finished all the other preparations for riding and the only thing that was left to do was the actual saddling. And saddling was just another task that required two capable arms instead of one.

It had been three months since his shield-arm broke after a sword fight with the Chief Librarian Mephiston, and those months passed at a glacial speed. If someone had asked him to describe a ‘chief librarian’ before his encounter with Lord Mephiston, he would have described an elderly lady, friendly face with pinned up grey hair.

Not in a million years would he have described a towering, angular man with a haunted look in his eyes who solely dressed in red and black finery. He would have thought of a mortal woman, not an arch mage who depended on blood to prolong his lifespan. Nor would he expect a chief librarian to be a warlord who lived in a fancy castle and he could certainly not have imagined being taken in as a squire. Thát only happened in the sappy romance books he used to read. Those very same books also failed to address how it was like to live above your station along with the overall awkwardness of not quite fitting in.

Daisy pushed her head against his chest and with that, she pushed him once again out of his thoughts. He looked around to see whether there was any chore he could do before he was going to face the inevitable. The scraping of her hoof betrayed her annoyance at him and that he better be quick about it.

“I know Daisy, I know. I am stalling, but you knew that already, did you not?” hushed Illiad softly while stroking her brushed mane. Daisy was not having it and pushed back harder, forcing Illiad to take a step backward. He was not afraid of her, far from it, but she could be insistent if she chose to be.

“Alright, alright. I will ask the stable hand to help with saddling. No need to rush me,” said Illiad before stepping away from her and out of her stall. The moment he was out of her stall, he checked whether his riding clothes had collected any stains and far as he could tell, both his doublet and breeches were clean which meant that he looked presentable. Illiad threw a look into the stall next to Daisy’s and saw how miss Lucia had nearly finished brushing Victus, the horse large enough to carry his Lord. He had asked whether she could help with preparing Victus and with her still busy meant that he had to look for someone else.

He removed his mantle from the hook next to Daisy’s stall and thick, red velvet slid through his gloves and Illiad once again stared at the material, mesmerized by it. As a Knight of the Ordo Equestus he had been by no means poor. He was well armed, well dressed and well housed. Velvet, along with the color red however… that was out of the question. He still had not understood what he, a deserter of Lord Dawnstone and still a Knight from the Ordo Equestus, was supposed to offer to the Chief Liberian of the Blood Angels.

Their goals happened to temporarily align because Lord Mephiston was interested in the answer to why his Brothers were at risk for the unrelenting Madness. The Madness seemed to be related to the presence of Blood Angels but what that relationship actually was muddled further by the day. Well, there was that and the fact that he had been foolish enough to challenge the Chief Librarian for a duel and managed to survive it with only a broken shield-arm.

Daisy blew hard at him again from the other side of the door and Illiad was forced to admit two things two himself. First, his mind was every bit the disorderly mess that Lord Rhacelus had made it out to be and second, he needed to get a move on. He wanted to be ready before Lord Mephiston arrived at the stables.

Before Illiad had the chance to find assistance, the massive wooden stable doors were swiftly rolled open with a thundering noise. Illiad felt his heart jump to his throat and instinctively reached for his sword on his hip and shot a thought to the Dawnbringer. The door opening revealed the harsh outline of silhouette of an impossibly tall figure contrasted against a clear blue sky behind him.

The figure did not move and when Illiad blinked his eyes and his eyes adjusted to the sharp light outside. His heart jumped for the second time in his throat and flinched away from his sword as if it were on fire.

“Gr-greetings Lord Mephiston,” stuttered Illiad while preforming a hasty salute as his eyes adjusted to the sudden bright light.

“Greetings, Little Knight. I see that your combat readiness requires little further refinement,” said his Lord with a voice quiet as the whisper of a turned page. Illiad heard a pause in his sentence and he tried to steady his already shaking hands while preventing endless apologies from tumbling out of his mouth. He knew that the faintest threat of pulling a blade on a Lord, regardless of the situation, was a mistake at the very least.

“I do wonder why you did not pull your blade,” said Lord Mephiston and those piercing blue eyes seemed to stare straight into his soul. The temperature dropped by several degrees with that look alone. Anyone who had worked with the Chief Librarian knew that having his full attention was unnerving at best and straight up terrifying at its worst. Illiad swallowed his fear away to the best of his ability and answered, “You… did not move, my Lord. If there had been an enemy, they would charge in and I did not want to risk harming an innocent,” answered Illiad with still shaking hands.

A silence formed between them and Illiad saw the beginnings of a frown on his Lord’s face yet he could not tell who or to what that frown was directed. After a moment of deliberation, he shook his head and saw how the dark feather attached to his wide brimmed hat delicately swayed with the movement.

“Very well. I assume you came early to prepare Daisy for our outing today?” said Lord Mephiston with slightly more warmth in his voice and Illiad could only feel an infinite relief for the change of subject.

“I did my Lord. Daisy is almost ready; I was on my way to look for a pair of capable hands to help with placing the saddle. The rest should be nothing but a breeze,” answered Illiad with what he hoped that came across as calm and collected. The pinch in his cheeks told him that he must have been wearing that same stupid grin as he often did around Lord Mephiston. Dawnbringer preserves him, why had nothing gone to plan in the last three months?

“At least you managed to find those capable hands. Come, I will assist you with readying Daisy. I would apricate your assistance with Victus afterwards,” came the thinly veiled order and Illiad knew that arguing against him would be pointless. He had overheard enough one-sided debates to know that Lord Mephiston simply did not budge from a decision nor shied away from manual labor. Instead of arguing, he opened the stall door, allowed his Lord to enter and followed suit.

There was an uncanniness when he saw Lord Mephiston moving towards Daisy. The length of his Lord dwarfed Daisy to the size of a pony. Hell, the tip of his own flat cap barely reached his Lord’s collar bone. The countenance of any Blood Angel was refined and fluid in a way that his mind refused to accept. It was like he could only watch with a slack jawed expression his Lord was able to move so refined yet covered as much distance as he did.

Daisy seemed enthusiastic to see Lord Mephiston and the moment she sniffed at one of the bags attached to his belt, Illiad knew why. Illiad saw his Lord’s lips and saw how her eagerness to ride reduced her to a calmer state. He stroked her once before he reached for the saddle and carefully placed it on the prepared pad.

Their interaction could not have lasted for longer than half a minute yet it felt like time had managed to stretch itself to crawl. Illiad blinked again and forced himself into motion.

“Thank you for your assistance, I will finish up here and join you soon,” said Illiad with the confidence he could muster. His Lord simply nodded at him and left him to his chores. The sounds of the stables returned to him and Illiad sighed of relief before getting to work.

Illiad found more joy in the task of fastening buckles than he ever thought possible. Having both his splint and sling removed did much for his mobility and confidence. He disliked how his Lord would hover over him and teasing remarks of his fellow squires of being an ‘one armed Joe’. He sighed and adjusted Daisy’s halter before he decided he was finished for the moment.

“Illiad?” asked Lord Mephiston. Illiad followed the sound, looked up in the direction of Victus his stall and saw his Lord towering above the walls of the stall. He was undoubtedly already mounted on Victus and only then did he notice that his Lord’s wide brimmed hat. It made out of the same red velvet as their breeches and doublets were while his long blonde hair billowed out underneath it. The symbol of the Blood Angels, a golden winged blood drop, pinning the dark fluffy feather in place. Even from this awkward angle his Lord looked downright regal.

“What is it my Lord?” said Illiad while straining his neck to look up at him.

“I appreciate your initiative to request Lucia’s help. I am about done, how about yourself?”

Illiad brought the reigns towards the saddle, placed his foot in the stirrup and mounted as well. He landed comfortably in his saddle and for a brief moment he allowed himself to enjoy the sensation of holding the reigns with both his hands. He threw his Lord a smile and said,

“Lead the way,”

#mephiston #knightcore #Knight and Angel #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #AU #Like #really AU #romantasy #enemies to lovers #they try so hard #horse and rider #short story #this has been living rent free in my head since august #I love them so much

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slytherinwh0re · 5 years ago

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Fresh linen, daisies, and a hint of honey

Draco Malfoy x female reader AU

Warnings: SMUT (18+ minors dni), a little fluff and maybe a swear word or two?

Summary: Where Draco has a crush on a girl and becomes her partner for a potions assignment.

Masterlist

*Draco’s POV*

The things I would do to that girl if she would just give me the time of day. I’m not quite sure why it happened, one day I noticed (y/n) walking down the hall with her friends and ever since I can’t seem to shake the image of her from my head, it’s no question she’s beautiful.

I have plenty of girls throwing themselves at me but why isn’t she? I mean I am Draco Malfoy.

The witch has never even glanced in my direction and I know she knows who I am, we’ve had many classes together over the years and well, everyone knows who I am. I would never say it out loud but it truly bothers me that (y/n) seems to be the only person in Hogwarts who doesn’t care about being in my presence. It makes it much worse that I think I may even have a tiny crush on the girl.

***

There she is, walking into our potions class right past me like I don’t even exist. I have to stop myself from staring at her for most the class. The girl makes it so hard for me to concentrate and she doesn’t even know it, luckily I’m godlike at potions or who knows what my marks would look like.

I’m not sure what it is about her that pulls me in so much. (Y/n)’s easily the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen but I don’t think that’s the only thing keeping my eyes on her. She’s also very kind, always smiling at every twit she comes in contact with and she seems to have this air around her that just reels you in.

“(Y/l/n), since you’re struggling so much you’ll work with Malfoy.”

Did I just hear Snape correctly?

I see her pick up her belongings and make her way over to the empty seat right next to mine. As soon as she sits down all I smell is fresh linen, daises, and something sweet. She turn to look at me with a small smile on her face and stretches out her hand.

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n), we’ve never properly met.”

I look at her hand, a bit shocked at first but after a second I’m taking it into my much larger one. Her skin is soft.

“I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.” I smirk at the pretty girl in front of me.

“I know.” She smiles wider. “I’m sorry in advance for how bad I am at potions.” Her cheeks turn pink and she turns back towards the front, listening to the rest of Snape’s instructions on our assignment. We had a week to figure out how to make amortentia, a powerful love potion.

As the class was coming to an end (y/n) turns back to me “So I was thinking we could actually start the assignment tonight? I could meet you in the library once my classes are over for the day?”

“Sounds good to me (y/l/n), I’ll see you later.” I wink at her and start heading to my next class.

***

Finally classes are over, all I could think about was how tonight would go and I may be slightly excited to see (y/n) again. I walked to the library as quickly as possible and to my surprise she was already at the entrance looking slightly disappointed.

“Hey (y/l/n), what’s with the long face?”

“It seems everyone had the same idea, there isn’t a single work table open.” She has the cutest little frown on her face.

“Well if you’re okay with it, we could always go to my dorm. I have a private one, being a prefect and all.” I like the idea of having her in my room but I wouldn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. She seems to think about it for a second and then shrugs her shoulders.

“Lead the way Malfoy.”

Once we get to my dorm we start setting up all the different ingredients and materials we’ll need on my work table. I could be imagining it but I swear I catch her glancing at me every once in a while out the corner of my eye. Not that I’m any better.

After the third time the potion explodes she lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Hey it’s okay, we still have all week to figure it out.”

“I know I just wish I wasn’t so useless at potions, maybe then we would’ve made a little progress.” She’s pouting.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re a way better partner than Crabbe or Goyle.” She starts to laugh and I can’t help but smile at how beautiful she looks. Once she settles down she still has a little smile on her face and I feel good knowing I’m the one who caused it.

“I should get going, it’s past curfew.” She says starting to put away the materials but I lightly grab her hand to stop her.

“You could just leave everything and we could work here from now on.” I scratch my head, nervous to hear what she says. She smiles and nods her head in agreement, picking up her bag from my bed.

“Well I should go.”

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your room.” I think I see her blush but it’s too dark in the hallway to be sure. We make our way to her room in silence, the only sound is our quiet footsteps as we approach her door.

“Thank you for walking me back Draco.” My breath hitches in my throat, no one calls me Draco other than mum and father but it sounds like velvet coming from her lips. I must look as stunned as I feel because then she quickly adds, “I mean Malfoy.” (Y/n) looks so nervous thinking I’m angry but in reality I just want to hear her say it again so I just shake my head.

“It’s okay, you can call me Draco.” This time I’m positive I see a blush on her cheek.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, have a good night (y/n).” I smirk at the blushing girl.

“Goodnight Draco.” Before I even know what’s happening she stands on her tiptoes, grabs my shoulders and plants a short kiss on my cheek, with a little smirk of her own she turns and disappears behind the door.

I smile the entire walk back to my room.

***

When I walk into potions the next day (y/n)’s already sitting at the table I usually sit at. As soon as she sees me she smiles brightly making me smile back.

“Hi Draco, we still on for today?”

“Yeah of course, you can just come to my room whenever you’re ready.”

“All right, I’ll probably change into comfier clothes before heading over.” She says, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in anything other than her school uniform and robes.

***

I’m laying in my bed waiting for (y/n) and I can’t help but think about her kissing my cheek last night. What did it mean? I decided she was probably just being nice but I wouldn’t hate it if she did it again.

Finally she knocks on the door and I open it up to see her clutching her books to her chest, smiling, as per usual. Once she steps in my room I see she’s wearing jeans and a comfy looking black tshirt, even in such simple clothes the girl outshines everyone.

Once again we worked for hours on the potion and still no progress. However I really enjoyed myself, hanging out with (y/n) was more fun than I could have imagined. She’s funny and so sweet, I don’t know that I could ever grow tired of being near her.

Just like last night I walked her back to her room and to my pleasure she kissed my cheek again, this time a tad closer to the corner of my mouth.

***

The rest of the week went the same, she’d come to my room, we’d work on the assignment, I’d walk her to her room and then she’d kiss my cheek, a little closer to my lips each night. Now it’s Sunday and we have to turn the potion into Snape tomorrow.

“Draco I think we finally did it! If I put in this last ingredient and it doesn’t explode we’ve done it.”

She drops in the last ingredient and the mix starts to steam. (Y/n) squeals in delight and throws her arms around my neck but before I can even move she let go and starts doing a happy dance around my room making me laugh.

“Go smell the potion before you hurt yourself.” I tell the dancing girl. She makes her way over to the cauldron and takes a big whiff, making my heart pound against my chest.

“I smell apples, expensive cologne, and maybe mint?” I can tell she’s confused. “It smells exactly like you Draco. What does that mean?”

“Amortentia is a love potion, whatever the potion smells like to you is the smell of what, or who, you find most desirable.” I sniff the potion, looking right at (y/n) who’s bright red at this point. “For instance I smell fresh linen, daises, and a hint of honey. Sound familiar?”

The beautiful witch is lost for words as I get closer and closer. When I finally reach her I pull her small body flush against mine, putting my face in the crook of her neck and giving it a feathery light kiss.

“You’re an exact match.” I whisper in her ear making her shudder. I start to pepper light kisses on her neck making her moan softly.

“Let me show you just how much I desire you (y/n).” I pull back to see her reaction. She puts her arms around my neck and pulls me down until her lips are an inch away from my ear.

“Kiss me already Draco.”

It takes exactly one second for me to have her pressed against me again, this time with my lips on hers. I start walking us forward until the back of her legs hit my bed and she falls back, the sight of her laying on my emerald sheets has my pants tightening by the second.

She moves so she’s kneeling on the bed, eyes level with mine. She starts unbuttoning my uniform shirt, her (y/e/c) eyes never looking away from mine. Once she has my shirt all the way off she puts her small hands on my shoulders slowly moving them down my chest until they reach my abs making me groan, her hands are so soft.

I reach for the hem of her shirt, pausing to look at her for permission. She nods so I push the shirt over her head, revealing a black lace bra.

She moves one of her hands behind her back and unclasps the material around her chest, removing a strap from each arm and finally letting it fall to the floor by my feet. I take her in for a while, not quite believing that the girl of my dreams is allowing me to be with her this way.

“You’re beautiful (y/n).” With that my mouth is back on hers, our bare chests pressed together. I skim my tongue on her bottom lip asking for permission when I feel the little minx smirking into the kiss, keeping her lips sealed. Two can play that game, I bring my hand down on her ass causing her to gasp, allowing enough room for my tongue to tangle with hers.

I lightly push her back onto the bed, immediately climbing over her. I start laying kisses down her neck, sucking on the skin, wanting her to remember who made her feel this good. I go lower until I reach her jeans, once I unbutton them I tap her hip so I can slide them off her long legs.

“Are you sure about this love?”

“Hurry up Malfoy.” She demands.

“Yes ma’am.” I hook my finger in her underwear pulling them down as slow as possible just so I could watch her squirm. I haven’t even touched her and she’s already soaked, the thought makes me smirk as I settle in between her legs.

I start kissing the inside of her thighs, placing them behind my shoulders. I leave small marks as I get closer to her core.

“Draco, please. I need you to touch me.” Fuck, that was hot.

“I want you to watch (y/n), if you look away I won’t let you finish, understood?” She nods her head vigorously, eyes locked on mine.

I lick a bold stripe up her slick folds making her grab my hair and let out the sexiest moan I’ve ever heard. This girl is driving me mad and she barely even touched me.

I slowly start tracing figure eights on her clit making her squirm, I put one of my hands flat on her stomach to hold her down, with the other I circle a finger at her entrance before sinking it into her. Her eyes never leaving mine.

She moans my name and I’ve decided I would do this everyday if she allowed me, just so I could hear my name come out her mouth like that.

I sink another finger into her, thrusting them faster as her legs begin to shake. I can tell she’s close, she’s having a hard time keeping her eyes open.

“I’m gonna c-” she let’s go before she can even finish her sentence. She throws her head back screaming my name as I flick my tongue over her. When she comes down from her high I pull my fingers out and she watches as I lick them clean, a small smile on her lips.

I get off the bed taking my pants and boxers off, my dick hitting my stomach. I grab a condom from my drawer but her hand stops me before I rip it open.

“Let me do it.” (Y/n) grabs the condom from my hand and rips the foil open with her teeth, slowly rolling it onto me. Feeling her soft hands on me makes me hiss.

“Are you ready?” I line myself up at her entrance, when she nods her head I push myself in. She’s absolutely soaked. Her legs wrap around my waist as I hold her body as close to mine as possible.

“You feel so bloody good.” I moan into her neck as her nails dig into my back. Her little whimpers encouraging me to go faster.

I grab one of her legs and pull it over my shoulder, the new angle making her scream. I smirk at how thoroughly fucked the sweet girl below me looks as I wrap my hand around her delicate throat, her tits bouncing up and down with the force of my thrusts.

I push her leg down and flip her body so she’s laying on her stomach. I don’t even have to say anything, she’s already lifting her hips off the bed and parting her legs so I could fit inbetween them. I’m going to marry this girl one day.

With her ass in the air like that I can’t help but smack it before slamming back into her. (Y/n) buries her face in my sheets as I reach around to rub her clit.

“I’m close Draco.”

“Cum for me love. Let go, I’ve got you.” And that’s all it take for her to be pushed over the edge. Her walls tighten around me as she moans my name, my thrusts become sloppy and I’m seeing stars as I cum into the condom.

Once I get myself cleaned up I go back to the bed and pull the tired girl close to my chest, kissing the top of her head.

“Let me take you on a date tomorrow.” I break the silence.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x you #draco x reader #slytherin #request something #harry potter #Dracos POV #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine #draco fanfiction #draco #malfoy #harry potter smut #hp smut

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bluefirewrites · 4 years ago

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'A Floral Fixation’- Juke Florist AU Part 2

Continuation of my last post about Flower Delivery Girl!Julie where she works at her family's flower shop, The Petal Pushers, and ends up making regular deliveries to Luke.

Note the title is silly. Does not allude to anything else :)

Julie has no clue how one favor for a friend could lead to all of this.

Ever since her brief stint as a singing telegram as well delivery girl, she’s now playing this... game? Yeah, game is the appropriate word for it. This ‘game’ with Luke Patterson.

And it would go like this:

There would be a delivery for Luke Patterson, Julie would drop it off, wondering why yet another flower arrangement is being delivered to a 17 year old boy on what seems to be on a regular basis, he offers her a flower, she declines, then leaves.

Julie's only the messenger, she doesn't see who keeps ordering them for Luke or if Luke's ordering these for someone. She doesn't check the card.

Or she would if there is one. There would usually be a card with each order. Tía nowadays just hands over the flowers with a telling arch of her brows and Julie instantly knows she's pedaling those to Sunset Curve's garage.

But she’s convinced that it really is Luke calling in and making the orders because every delivery she makes to him is always different and every time she would give it to him, he would always ask if they were her favorites.

Julie found the whole thing amusing, toying with him. But she had made numerous attempts in the past to get him to stop. She couldn’t imagine what kind of strain this would have on his wallet (flowers ain’t cheap), and she didn’t plan to string him on like that. It wasn’t fair.

But Luke Patterson is determined.

Why? No clue. By her deeming it a ‘game’ implies that there is a winner. Some sort of prize when they reach the end.

Whenever that is.

Maybe she doesn’t want it to end so soon. Not when these deliveries may be an excuse to go see him after school. She doesn’t stick around though. She is on the clock after all.

In the meantime, she’s good to play. And when Luke Patterson manages to guess her favorite flower (there’s no chance), she will accept it when offered to her.

So far, it’s been sunflowers, hydrangeas, chrysanthemums, and many other kinds of flowers.

This time, as she pedals up to the garage, it's zinnias in her basket.

And this time, the rest of the band is there.

Julie knocks on the door again and Luke's the first one to reach her. He leans against the entryway, taking the bouquet from her, picking one flower, and tilting it in her direction- the usual dance.

"Zinnias. Tell me that I'm right,"

"Hmm..." she makes the move to take it and Luke brightens...

Only for her hand to land on his forearm instead, where she gives him a couple of pitying pats.

"Nice try," she smirks, swiftly turning on her heel and walking back to her bike.

She could hear Alex and Reggie jeer at Luke's dumbfounded expression, 'ooooh'-ing at her trick.

Luke, after shooting his friends a glare and tossing the bouquet at them, he catches up to her as she mounts her bike.

"I'm getting close, aren't I?"

"What makes you think that?" She ensures the rest of her deliveries are secure in the back and front, pretending not to know what he's talking about.

"You're not a dainty flower girl. I know that for sure. That's not who you are."

Julie squints at him, "We haven't started talking until now. How can you say that 'know' me?"

"I heard you sing," Luke says. That makes her bristle slightly. "Trust me. I know everything I need to know about you from that. And with that powerhouse of a voice? No way you'd be a daisy or a daffodil."

Julie tries not to smile, not wanting to give any indication that he was heading in the right direction. The compliment, however delivered in his own Luke way, nearly makes her grin. Yet, it’s the singing part that reminds her way she’s been keeping the boy at arm’s reach and not outright telling him her favorite.

She and music have a complicated relationship at the moment. Her singing the first time she was here had been a one off. If Luke’s expecting her to belt out songs constantly and be as passionate about music as he is, then he’ll be sorely disappointed.

And Julie’s done disappointing people. She’d rather do something new. Even though a really cute guy is humoring her with these antics.

“You know there’s over 300,000 species of flowers?”

“352,000″

Julie raises an eyebrow.

“I research,” he proclaims proudly, rocking on his heels.

Wow, he’s really pushing this.

“What are you getting out of this, Luke?”

“Maybe I’m just very interested in... flowers?”

“Uh-huh,” Julie purses her lips, reading between the lines, “Flowers. Right.”

“And I’m gonna continue to feed that interest... as long as it takes,”

“Or as long as your allowance can take it. Do you even have a job?”

“I work at the diner. But,” he sidles up to her, “If you’re so concerned about my funds, then maybe give me a hint? This can all be over quicker if you’re so eager to get rid of me.”

The shit-eating grin on his face makes her roll her eyes. This boy...

"I guess..." Julie debates internally, "I guess you can cross small flowers off," she ends up admitting.

"Ha!" he jumps, "I was right!”

“Still not the right flower though,” she reminds him.

“Nah that's a victory for today and I'll take it,"

She shakes her head at him, "You’re ridiculous,"

“See you next week then?”

"Oh my god, Julie goes ahead and embarks on her bike, “More business for us, then. Be seeing you, Patterson.”

She rides down the street is about to turn the corner when she hears faint yelling from behind her.

"Your voice does sell more flowers!"

Stopping by the neighbors yard and looks back, "What?”

It’s Luke, standing in the driveway still. He cups his hands and shouts, “I was right!”

“What?” she answers back.

Now that does it. And she breaks out into a laugh, throwing her head back as she does. Luke Patterson- what a clown.

Julie promptly bikes away, and when she returns to the store, Tía clocks her smile immediately and asks about their favorite customer.

“An idiot, as always,” Julie reports back.

A cute idiot.

Tía hums something Julie couldn’t comprehend. Then she returns to pruning the flowers. Julie helps her.

“Well... whoever that young man is. He must have a really special girl in his life. To be ordering this many flowers.”

“Yeah... I guess,” Julie agrees, absentmindedly, focusing more on the task at hand.

“And I hope that girl knows just how special she is too,”

“Yeah- wait. Huh?”

Julie doesn’t get anymore out of her aunt that day, just knowing glances as if she’s meant to be in on this inside joke, but she isn’t.

Oh well.

And when she spots Luke the next day at school, he breezes past her, smiling, hints of floral scents radiating from his person. Much like how the shop would smell.

“Mornin’, Flower Girl,” he greets, tipping an imaginary hat her way.

“Morning, Diner Boy,” she shoots back, taking satisfaction from how thrown off Luke looks by her response.

He recovers and shoots her a wink, “Touchè”

Hey! If he knew what her job was, then she should too. And use it to her advantage. Maybe go to his work and tease him there, pester him about his favorite order, maybe and not be a passive player in this game they have.

Now wouldn’t that be a fun idea...

Tagging: @blush-and-books @lydias--stiles @thedeathdeelers @ruzek-halstead @pink-flame, @ourstarscollided, @nottheleastbrave, @echocharm17618 @smolfangirl @garc-i-a @simp-for-julie-molina @teenagepeanutbird @ifitsallyoudo @fandomscraziness22 @writerownstory @heademptynothoughts @writeineveryemptyspace

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #happy anniversary!#jatp anniversary #juke #jatp drabble #flower delivery girl! Julie #mention of Diner!Luke #julie x luke #luke x julie

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snelbz · 4 years ago

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I'll Be Seeing You {6}

Nesta x Cassian, 1940′s AU

Collaboration with @tacmc.

Summary: After Cassian gets injured in the war, he’s taken to a war camp to be cared for until he gains enough strength to return to his battalion. While he’s there, he falls for a nurse that couldn’t care less about his title and doesn’t put up with his bullshit. Once he’s healed and the years pass by, he finds that there’s only one thing he wants to remember from the war, and she’s only a letter away.

Trigger Warnings: war

Chapters will be posted every Monday.

Word Count: 1696

IBSY Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta had no idea what had happened.

She was shaken awake in the middle of the night by one of the night nurses, quickly hurrying her out of the tent she shared with a few other nurses in hushed tones. She pulled her robe around her tighter, the nightgown she wore was perfectly fine with the warm fire crackling in the hearth, but in the crisp autumn air, it left her shivering.

As did the reason she’d been awakened in the middle of the night. One of her patients she’d been solely residing over had taken an unexpected turn at some point in the evening. Infection. Fever.

She felt shaky and hollow as she pushed through the tent flaps. She knew it made her a horrible person, but she couldn’t help but pray it was anyone except—

There were two nurses hovering beside Cassian’s cot and she thought she was going to be physically sick.

“What’s happened?” Nesta asked as she approached. It had been meant to have been firm, direct, but it came out shaky.

“He was sleeping peacefully, but then he started to stir and groan,” Claire explained. “When I came over he was drenched in sweat. I checked the gunshot wounds on his back and the burns. There were no bandages. I’m not sure how he had gotten them off—.”

A ringing in Nesta’s ears drowned out the rest of Claire’s words, but it didn’t matter what the nurse said, Nesta knew the cause of Cassian’s downfall.

It had been her.

She had been cleaning his wounds when the soldier had been rushed in earlier that morning, had left Cassian to help. When the soldier had died, Madja had ordered Nesta to go clean up and she had left the tent…

It had all happened so fast.

She had lost a life, and it distracted her from her thoughts, her further duties.

She had never gone back to finish cleaning and bandaging his wounds.

And, of course, Cassian had said nothing.

“I didn’t know what to—.”

Nesta cut Claire off, shaking her head to try and clear her thoughts. She knew she was to blame, but wouldn’t alert Claire to that knowledge. “He needs a dose of penicillin, maybe two, depending on how far the infection has spread.”

Claire nodded, the other two nurses having moved on to check on other patients, most of whom slept peacefully. When she kept standing there, nodding, Nesta snapped, “Now, please.”

She blinked and was off, hurrying to the medical cabinet in the center of the tent.

Leaning down over his bed, Nesta placed a hand on either side of his face. “Cassian?”

His skin was hot, clammy and he was covered in sweat. She swore quietly. He felt like he’d been lying in front of a furnace for a few hours.

His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t rise to consciousness.

Claire returned, a syringe in one hand and a glass bottle in the other. Nesta took it, surprised by how steady her hands were. She felt as if they should be as shaky as her breathing had become, but she quickly and efficiently administered the dose, holding a small piece of gauze over his arm where she’d stuck him.

“Should I… Would you like to go back to bed?” Claire asked. “I can watch him while I make my rounds.”

Nesta shook her head as she sat down in the chair next to the cot. “No, I— I need to stay with him.”

Claire hesitated, but nodded and excused herself.

Nesta would wait with him, would keep him company, because it was all her fault.

She told herself that was the only reason, but as she reached up to brush his damp hair back, she knew she was only fooling herself.

But fool herself, she would.

This was war. He was a soldier. Aside from being completely inappropriate, considering she was his nurse, one should never get involved with a soldier.

It often only led to heartbreak.

His face was flushed, even though his lips were bloodless, and he looked so…frail. Even when he’d first been brought in, bloody and burned, he hadn’t looked so helpless. Nesta couldn’t look away from him.

She knew no one else was around, knew the other nurses may have been nosy and curious, but they would give Nesta this privacy. And because of that she reached out and took his hand, gently holding it in hers.

Was it really just earlier in the day that he’d held her hand after coming to check on her after that poor soldier had passed? The thought, that he considered her feelings more important than his own healing, had her fingers tightening around his.

I could see myself loving a woman like you.

She tried not to think about the thrill his words sent through her, then or now. It was highly inappropriate, especially considering they barely knew each other. But there was just…something about him. She reached out with her free hand and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. Still clammy. Still burning up.

Again, his eyelids shifted, but they didn’t open. The penicillin would keep him down for a while.

She wouldn’t be sleeping, though. Not any time soon.

With a defeated sigh, Nesta took the book off of the small table by Cassian’s cot. He had read a little more that afternoon, it had seemed. He was nearing chapter six, and Nesta couldn’t wait to see his reaction to the coming chapters.

Especially in regards to his beloved Daisy.

She opened to the page he was on and took out the leather strap that marked it. It was old and worn, and she found herself wondering how long he’d had it, how long it had held his hair back. She wondered how long he’d had long hair. She assumed always. It was hard to imagine him with short hair.

It just wouldn’t look right.

He stirred on the cot before her, and Nesta’s eyes jerked up to him, but he still didn’t wake. She watched him for another moment, making sure he was sleeping peacefully, then looked back down at the scrap of leather in her hand.

It occurred to her how little she knew about him then. She knew about his mother and lack of a father, but he’d mentioned brothers. Were they blood or was it more in a camaraderie sort of way? And who were they? Did he love them the way she loved her own sisters?

Perhaps she had been selfish thus far, in asking so little about him. Usually the man never shut up, was always making sarcastic remarks with his raunchy humor, and now as he lay unconscious, she wanted him to speak.

She wanted to ask him questions.

He mentioned Velaris, but Nesta had only been there once as a child and didn’t remember much from it. She wanted to ask him about it, ask him what it was like growing up in the famous City of Starlight.

She wanted to ask about those brothers of his, if he had any other siblings, and how his mother, who had never married, survived it, living in the world that they did.

She wanted to ask if he’d ever had any pets, what his favorite subject was in school, if he’d ever broken a bone or climbed a tree for fun or been in an airplane.

She wanted to know where this scrap of leather came from that she had been fiddling in between her fingers for far too long.

Eventually, she rested her head against her own arm, still holding onto his fingers in one hand and clutching that strap of leather in the other. It didn’t take long before she was asleep herself.

A few hours later, a firm hand on her shoulder had her jolting awake. She sat up quickly, finding Madja standing behind her.

Standing, she cleared her throat, releasing Cassian’s hand, still holding onto that piece of leather. “Madja, I—.”

A gentle smile was on the old healer's face. “You should get changed, Nesta.”

Glancing down at her open robe and nightgown, Nesta blushed and nodded, before replacing the strap of leather in the book she’d leant to him.

The sun was up, but the chill in the air told her it hadn’t been for long. She hurried across the camp to the tent she shared with a few other nurses. Quickly changing, she tied a fresh apron around her waist and was surprised to find Madja standing outside the tent as she emerged, still braiding her hair back.

“Walk with me,” she said, and took off, not waiting to see if she followed.

Nesta couldn’t help but feel like she was a child about to be scolded.

“There is no rule stating you can’t have feelings for your patient, Nesta,” she said, glancing over at her.

Nesta blinked, not expecting her to be so blunt. She immediately went on the defensive. “I don’t have—.”

Madja gave her a look that told her the woman knew she was full of shit. She went on. “This isn’t a formal job. There is no rule book saying you can’t fraternize with others. He’s very handsome, and it’s clear he’s taken quite a shine to you. But remember where we are, what we’re doing. Why we’re here.”

Nesta nodded, hesitantly.

She knew.

The soldiers came in, they healed, and they left, went back to war.

And that’s exactly what Cassian would do, Nesta was fully aware of that fact. There was no romance, there was no happily ever after, not when it came to war.

“I just want you to be careful,” Madja continued, her voice gentle. “I have seen young women, time and time again, fall for men who did not come home. It is okay to feel for another, my dear, but you must remember the risks.”

The risks. It was a long list.

“I was not planning on anything happening between myself and the Major,” Nesta said, at last.

Madja’s smile was soft. “That’s always when it happens, Nesta. When no plans are made.”

#snacmc ibsy #i’ll be seeing you #snacmc collab #nessian ibsy #nessian #nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta x cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #1940s au

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phanfictioncatalogue · 3 years ago

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Concerts (2) Masterlist

part one

Appreciate the Sound (ao3) - moomer

Summary: Basically, Dan is mute and Phil is in a punk band. Dan is a huge fan, mainly cause he’s in love with Phil, but also cause he likes music as a form of communication. Dan goes to a concert and is forced (but not really) by Phil to come sing with him on stage but Dan doesn’t realize what he’s supposed to do until he’s already up there and phil doesn’t know dan can’t speak.

everything about you resonates happiness (ao3) - ziphan

Summary: dan and phil in their fifth muse concert

Guiding Light - danalingphil

Summary: Dan struggles through a condition causing him to lose his eyesight, and Phil helps him cope and learn to love life again.

Ice Packs and Coffee Cups (ao3) - rainbowchristy

Summary: As part of the emergency staff for London's biggest concert venue, Phil knew how to manage a huge range of problems. When a certain brown-haired boy turns up unconscious, Phil doesn't think much of it, well, until the boy awakens, that is.

Luminescence (ao3) - manchestereyes

Summary: Dan never expected Phil to notice him. Sure, maybe he'd glance at his sign and laugh, but not even in his wildest dreams did he imagine actually getting called up onstage to do the one thing he'd dreamed of for years. But what happens when a simple kiss unexpectedly turns into something more? And what about Dan's acting dreams, pushed aside so he can study law, but now suddenly taking center stage again? Musician!Phil/fanboy!Dan AU

Shine so bright (ao3) - AmazinGhoul

Summary: In a world where on your seventeenth birthday your eye color changes, Dan is about to get his 'soulmate color' but things can't be too easy.

starlight, i will be chasing a starlight. (ao3) - commonemergency

Summary: Dan and Phil see Muse in 2010, Dan thinks too much of how certain songs remind him of certain people, but it's okay, Dan is just content that he gets to sleep next to Phil.

Starstruck - paradisobound

Summary: Phil attends all of Dan Howell’s concerts. In fact, he makes it a rule to even record every one he goes to. You could say he was in love with Dan Howell and in fact, that wouldn’t be a lie because he’s actually Dan’s fiancé. Too bad Dan’s fans see him as the creepy guy at Dan’s concerts.

Thanks To The Mosh Pit - multifandomfanfics

Summary: While at Reading Festival, Dan gets caught up in a mosh pit. Phil, a medic there, is the one to sort clean him up.

Voice of My Soul (ao3) - howellperfect

Summary: “your voice perfectly suits the melody of my my soul.” soulmate!au, where Dan is aware that Phil and him are made for one another. he attends Phil’s concert, hoping to tell the latter about it.

What You're Missing (ao3) - analester

Summary: prompt from anonymous: "Phil is a REALLY famous punk singer. He has taken over the world with his talent. Him and Dan used to date but Phil's 'rock lifestyle' was too much for Dan to handle so Phil chucked him. A year later, Dan's friends get VIP tickers to a Lester concert"

Who the Hell is Long John Silver? (ao3) - goldfishsunglasses

Summary: Dan and Phil meet in line at a Pride festival. They’re faced with protesters, and decide to stage a little protest of their own.

You Kill Me (In A Good Way) (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Punk!Phil as a singer who meets pastel!Dan at a gig.

Your Biggest Fan - dxnhowell

Summary: Phil is in the middle of a world tour with his rock band Killing Daisies. They’ve only been on tour for a couple of weeks now and it’s their first time touring in America, so they are still getting the hang of things. One night, their tour bus breaks down in the middle of nowhere. Luckily, someone passes by who’s willing to help them. This someone just happens to be their biggest fan.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #concert masterlist #concert #band #musician #singer

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wiltingofthewhitelily · 4 years ago

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{Hetalia Platonic Ships Week 2021} Day 7: Free Day - Iceland & Latvia

A/N: Submission #7 for @hetaliaplatonicshipsweek!

Aaaaand the last day! I was originally planning to do Canada and Cuba (a platonic pairing I just adore) for this day until I realized I didn't actually have any solid story ideas for them :')

Sooo I chose Iceland and Latvia instead, because I imagine the two to be pretty good friends. This is just a high school au (bc as many of y'all know I'm a sucker for them) that I came up with one day while sitting in class lol. You can choose to see this as taking place in the same universe as the fic I wrote for family week (the Anko Family submission for Day 5, Embarrassment) if you wish, bc everything lines up pretty much to a T. Also, my demiboy Iceland hc is back, so he/they pronouns again.

Also, here's the reference for human names again (though most of these characters are only briefly mentioned):

Emil - Iceland

Raivis - Latvia

Leon - Hong Kong

Michelle - Seychelles

Mei - Taiwan

Lili - Liechtenstein

Ok, I hope you guys enjoy!

»»————-　➴　————-««

Being a librarian's aide at a high school wasn't nearly as bad as it appeared on the surface—well, at least for Emil it wasn't. It was always nice and quiet (for obvious reasons, since it was a library), and it allowed him to get out of a couple of boring classes which he didn't even need to take since he'd already received all the credits for them. Plus, the librarian herself was always very nice and even gave him free coffee and donuts from the teacher's lounge on most days. So, needless to say, Emil actually liked being her aide very much.

It wasn't even that much work, honestly. Not that much work at all. Usually just stacking returned books back on the bookshelf and taking out papers from the printer and giving them to students and teachers. Emil didn't have to interact with too many other kids as there were only a couple of other aides—a senior girl who was the librarian's secretary, and a boy named Raivis who Emil was pretty sure was a sophomore. Raivis basically did the same tasks as Emil, placing books on the bookshelf and whatnot.

Raivis was a curly-haired brunet who was very short for his age, barely even coming up to Emil's shoulder; he had a round boyish face that added to his middle-schooler look. Though he seemed to be a pretty quiet kid, just like Emil, since the two worked together they evidently had to communicate with each other sometimes—and honestly, Emil really enjoyed talking with him. He seemed to have a lot of the same interests as Emil—video games, indie music, hell, he even liked science fiction novels too—and a similar personality to them. Emil wouldn't exactly consider themselves close enough to Raivis to consider him a friend, probably just a very good acquaintance; however, they definitely saw the potential for friendship. It was there.

Sometimes Emil wondered if Raivis even had any other friends, as they'd never seen the boy really talk to anybody else. They wondered where he sat at lunch and tried to recall countless times if they'd ever seen him at lunch with anybody else (at their school, all juniors and sophomores had the same lunch period, so Emil knew that they had lunch with Raivis).

Anyway, on one Thursday morning Emil and Raivis were in the library, organizing books in the—what do you know—science fiction section. They had set their uneaten donuts and coffee on a nearby table and were just talking and laughing among each other, as well as sharing some of the good books they'd found that they happened to have read in the past. Emil made a mental note of all the reading suggestions Raivis had given him. I'm gonna have to check out those books when Mrs. Newman lets me pick some out again, Emil thought to himself (Mrs. Newman referring to the librarian). Another perk to being a librarian's aide was that they got to pick out more books than the other students, about three to five every other week.

Everything was going okay until these two boys who Emil had never seen in the library before casually walked up to the table that had the two's donuts and coffee and sat in the chairs.

However, Emil just kept their attention on Raivis, who was laughing as he told them about this one dystopian book, holding it up so Emil could see. "Yeah! And the best part is when—" Raivis stopped talking abruptly when he noticed the two boys there; his eyes grew wide and he got a...scared look on his face? Hurriedly, he shoved the book back in its spot on the shelf, averting his eyes from the boys and holding Emil's arm loosely, trying to guide him away from the section they were at. "Um...how about let's go sort out the encyclopedias," Raivis suggested quickly.

Emil cocked his eyebrows, now very confused. "But what about our food?"

However, Raivis didn't respond and instead continued to try to push Emil away from the boys.

"Hey, short stack!"

Raivis visibly cringed at the voice of one of the boys. This prompted him, as well as Emil to lift their heads up. One of the kids was cackling annoyingly, while the other one had carelessly taken a bite out of one of Raivis' donuts.

Seeing this latter action immediately caused Emil to furrow their eyebrows. "Hey, what the heck?" they said sternly. "That's Raivis' food."

The kid who'd eaten Raivis' donut snickered. "Yeah, no shit, Dad."

"Emil, just leave them alone..." Raivis said quietly, still holding onto their arm.

Emil ignored him and, though his heart was pounding nearly out of his chest with nerves, he continued to try to set the two boys straight. "I'm going to tell Mrs. Newman if you two don't stop," he threatened.

The other boy, who'd started to drink Raivis' coffee, set his cup down and made mocking jazz hands. "Ooo—Mrs. Newman. I'm so scared," he said sarcastically.

Emil shot the two one last glare and went up to the front of the library to do what he'd just said he would do—tell Mrs. Newman. As he began to walk, he heard the sounds of pounding footsteps, splashing, and then a high-pitched wail that could only belong to one person. Emil whipped his head around and gasped. The kid with the coffee had dumped the entire beverage onto Raivis' head; it was dripping from his hair, and onto the floor.

Now simmering with anger, Emil stomped up to the two kids—he was about to yell something until he heard one of the boys snort loudly and then run up to place the now-empty cup of coffee into Emil's hand. The ash-blond didn't have time to be too confused; he was much more concerned for Raivis at that moment. He prepared to yell at the two boys to get the hell out (he honestly didn't care at that point that they were in a library) before he heard a voice behind him: "Hey! What are you two doing?"

The teens all looked toward the voice and saw Mrs. Newman standing there, hands on her hips, her expression very angry looking—though not at Emil and Raivis, rather at the boy that'd spilled coffee on Raivis' head, as well as his friend.

The two boys, though they'd just mocked Mrs. Newman a mere few minutes prior, stood there, scared, until they glanced at each other briefly and then dashed out of the large library doors. Emil smirked internally as they saw this. Now they're afraid, huh? they thought to themselves.

Mrs. Newman stared at the boys like a hawk as they ran out into the halls, but once they were out of eyesight she turned to Raivis, her face instantly growing from full of anger to full of concern. She walked up slowly to the boy, gently placing her hand on a part of his arm that'd been untouched by the coffee. "Oh, sweetheart," she said, "I'm so sorry that happened to you."

Raivis shrugged his shoulders slowly, his face looking so solemn, so pitiful. "It's fine..."

The tall blonde woman turned to Emil then. "Honey, will you take him to the office to get a fresh change of clothes?" she asked. "He will probably need to use one of the showers in the gym too...can you walk with him, please?"

Emil nodded instantly. "Yeah. Sure thing."

Mrs. Newman smiled back. "Thank you."

Soon, the two teens were walking off to do just that. Raivis was very quiet all the way to the office—which Emil could understand one hundred percent. Poor kid must've felt so embarrassed. He decided he wouldn't make the situation any worse for him and kept his mouth shut, too. They swiftly went to the office to get some spare clothes and then got the clear to go down to the gym bathroom so Raivis could wash up.

The two got to the gym and were standing in front of the door to the bathroom; Raivis glanced up at Emil, his face a little pink. "Um," he began, holding his hand out a little, "could you give me the clothes?"

"Oh, yeah," Emil replied, handing Raivis the sweatpants and t-shirt.

Raivis nodded his thanks and headed on in. After he shut the door, Emil just decided to sit against the wall and wait for him while he showered and changed.

Nearly thirty minutes later, Raivis finally came back out. Emil looked up, put his phone back in his pocket, and then stood up. "How was it?" he asked the sophomore.

Raivis sighed deeply; his eyes were very close to watering, even though he looked and smelled as fresh as a daisy. "Um...okay I guess," he answered, voice quavering a little. "There was a lot of coffee on me."

Emil nodded, but tsk-tsked. He began to walk out of the gym, and Raivis followed close behind. "Who even were those kids?" Emil asked.

Raivis shrugged, looking down at his toes. "Eh, just some kids from my grade. They're jerks."

Emil bit his lip. "Seems like it. I can't believe they put that coffee cup in my hands like they were trying to frame me or something," he said. He laughed, a bit bitterly.

Despite himself, Raivis managed to chuckle a little. "Yeah. Don't they know Mrs. Newman has cameras in there? She could've checked them if she really wanted to."

Emil snorted. "I know, right?"

It was silent for a moment afterward, with Raivis gulping loudly every now and then. Emil turned their head, noticing this. He cocked an eyebrow, concerned. "Are you okay?"

Raivis (who Emil could tell now was definitely on the verge of crying) sniffled and rubbed at his face. "Yeah," he answered, voice hushed. "It's just...thank you, Emil. No one has ever stood up for me like that."

The boy's voice was so sincere that Emil had to grin. "It's no problem—really."

"You're a great friend," Raivis added.

Emil's heart was warmed at that—they didn't know if it was just the way he said it, or the knowledge that he actually thought of them as a friend. He answered warmly nonetheless. "Thank you. You are too."

Raivis glanced at him and gave the most genuine smile Emil thought he'd ever seen on the younger teen.

"Hey, where do you normally sit at lunch?" Emil asked Raivis, just out of curiosity.

Raivis' smile fell a bit. "Oh...well, I normally just sit outside," he said quietly.

"Alone?" The word seemed to echo in the empty hallway, though it might've just been Emil's imagination.

Raivis nodded a bit solemnly. Emil grew the same solemn expression for a moment before asking, "Hey, would you like to sit with me and my friends at lunch?"

Raivis looked up then, eyebrows shooting up. "Really?"

Emil nodded, cracking a small smile. "Yeah. I sit with my best friend, Leon, and then my other friends, Michelle, Mei, and Lili. Leon's really cool; Michelle and Mei might seem a bit...much at first, but they're really nice and cool too."

Raivis' expression slowly began to brighten the more he heard Emil talk, until he paused. "...Are you sure that's okay? I wouldn't wanna ruin your guys' lunch..."

"Trust me, you won't," Emil assured instantly.

The sophomore paused for a minute, as if thinking. "...Okay. I'll sit with you guys."

Emil grinned. "Good. I'm sure they'd love to meet you."

The two continued to walk back to the office to get passes for their next class in comfortable silence, the content feeling one feels after finding a new friend overwhelming both of them.

#hetalia #hetaliaplatonicshipsweek #hetalia event #hetalia fanfiction #fanfiction #aph iceland #hws iceland #aph latvia #hws latvia

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keriwi1 · 4 years ago

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Hazbin Hotel/Helluva boss story ideas

So, I saw some people posting similar idea pools like this here, so, here we are. The ideas for fanfics I have, but I don’t know when or if I'm gonna make them. So basically if you see the one you like you may adopt it. This will also help me see with one you would want to see me write.

Angels of Hell series

Show me Heaven

Antoine, the son of Alastor always felt out of place in Hell. He didn’t like to sin or even misbehave. What’s more he didn’t look like any other demon he knew, with his whithe fluffy wings and soft light fur, or that shining disk floating above his head. He just knew there was something to him, they kept it a secret, but didn’t quite understand what. That was until he noticed that he resembles the weird creatures that come out of the Tartarus sky every year and decided to follow them when they exit Hell.

There he meets Uriel, a beautiful young Archangel who thinks he may have lost his memories since he doesn't know what Heaven is.

Main ship here: OC X OC

Characters: OC male, OC female, various angels oc’s, Alastor, Niffty, Deerie, Angel Dust

Genre: Romance, comedy

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The boss

After years of waiting it’s finally Annabelles turn to become the next mafia boss. But before that, she had one last thing she must do - kill her father, Angel Dust. Will she be able to do it?

So… a very important thing to know here is, Annabelle was raised by Don Henroin , who grew to love her enough to make her his heir (skipping Arachniss all together) and he taught her a lot of wrong ideas about life so is pretty much the villain of her own story. I really like Annabelle as an OC, and even have a design for her, but I don’t know if the story isn’t too dark.

Genre: Drama

Characters: Angel Dust, oc

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Pushing Daisies Au ( No title so far)

Alastor is a pie maker with quite a few secrets. First secret being - He can bring a person back to life with his touch. Thanks to this talent he brings back his old crush, Charlie who unfortunately doesn't know who killed her. Or fortunately since it was him. Oh, my… Didn't I mention Alastor's other secret was being a serial killer?

Main ship here: Charlie x Alastor

Characters: Charlie, Alastor, Mimzy, other HH/HB characters

Genre: Dark comedy

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( No title so far)

Don Henroin can have whatever he wants since he is a mafia boss, and this time he wants Vaggie. He forces her family to sell her to him as his bride, and make her live with him and his three kids, Arachniss, Angel Dust and Molly. But the young demoness starts to have feelings for his youngest son instead.

Main ship here: Angel Dust X Vaggie

Characters: Don Henroin , Vaggie, Arachniss, Angel Dust, Molly

Genre: Romance

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

Verosica’s secret

When Blitzo left her, Verosica life was a mess, but she found strength to made a name out of herself. Now she is the biggest pop star in the world. When she met him again, she was fully ready to destroy him, but the old feelings came back. She also found out Blitzo adopted a daughter, no surprise, he always wanted to have kids, she was the one who didn’t. But she kept his child anyway…how will she tell him?

Main ship here: Verosica X Blitzo

Characters: Blitzo, Verosica, Millie, Moxxie, Loona, oc

Genre: Romance, comedy

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

Circus Au

There's many workers in Lucifer’s grand circus. The owner's daughter, Charlie, is a belly dancer. Stolas works as a magician, “the Owl”, alongside his daughter and ' 'lovely assistant'', Octavia. Stella is a living target with a knife throwing act alongside Striker. Blitzo is a (very unhappy) clown, who wants to leave and start his own business with two other clowns Millie and Moxxie. Alastor is the animal tamer , Alastor and Spider twin are acrobats and ther is many, many more.

Stolas finds himself really unhappy with where his marriage currently is, so he starts a romance with Blitzo… and with Charlie.

Main ship here: Stolas X Blitzo, Stolas X Charlie, other ships are possibilities too, If someone would take this story concept I would be ok if they change the main ships.

Characters: various HH/HB characters

Genre: Comedy

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Romantic getaway for six

Charlie feels guilty for having romance with Stolas, but she also has no intentions to break up with him. So there's only one solution for them to feel less awkward. She organises a romantic getaway for herself, Stolas, Vaggie, Stella, Blitzo and Verosica to make them all fall in love with each other and starts a happy polyamory relationship. Things get real awkward and fast.

Main ship here: Stolas X Blitzo, Stolas X Charlie, Stolas x Stella, Charlie x Vaggie, Blitzo x Verosica, and Charlie aiming to make more

Characters: Stolas, Charlie, Vaggie, Stella, Blitzo, Verosica

Genre: Comedy

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As seen on TV

While at home, being sick and binge watching, Barbra finds a weird channel that seems to be runned by demons. Unable to turn it off, she accidentally summons one of them.

Now she is stuck with Vox in her home. And the mismatched duo is not getting along well.

Characters: OC, Vox

Genre: Comedy

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Mom? (working title)

Alasor is well known to love his mother. He won’t shut up about how much he was her favorite baby boy. Only thing is… he has no recollection of her. All of it was just a lie to cover for a lack of any memories. So one can only imagine his surprise when a doe demon comes to his doors and claims to be the mother he always dreamed about.

Characters: OC, Alastor

Genre: Mystery

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #helluva boss au #fanfic ideas #hazbin hotel au #ideas for adoptions

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claudiasjeancregg · 4 years ago

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we can find each other this way, i believe

for the tww flowershop au, created here!!

for ariel and bianca, and everyone who’s helped create this lovely universe<3

title from Come and Find Me by Josh Ritters, a song @aerielz introduced me to that we both now think should be this au’s anthem. seriously, listen to it.

Toby opens every morning, bright and early. Comes with the job of owning the shop, he supposes. But still, it wouldn’t be unreasonable for Sam to relieve him of the duty for once.

He hears a shuffle at the door, keys jingling, and looks up without a word.

“Morning, Toby!” Donna breezes in, all sunshine and cheerfulness even at 6 AM— she’s exactly who people expect to work at a flower shop. He is decidedly not.

“Hey, Donna,” he mutters, lost in thought. Something’s happening this morning, something big that’s lying in the back of his mind, almost close enough to remember but just out of reach.

“Is there- do we have a big order we’re doing today?”

She frowns. “No, not that I know of, at least. Why, do you want me to do something?”

He shakes his head, giving her a sideways look. “Aren’t you busy enough?”

“Yeah, I really am,” she sighs, dropping her keys on the counter and jumping onto it, like his remark had been some invitation to vent. It had not been, as a matter of fact.

“I love my job, don’t get me wrong. But Josh doesn’t let me do anything! I’m stuck working on bacon in the back-“

“Bacon? Is that some tattoo shop slang I'm not aware of? Or— Donna, please don’t tell me it’s a sex thing.”

Donna gives him a petulant look, eerily similar to how his older sisters looked as kids when they hadn’t given what they wanted. “You’d think so, but it’s actual bacon. They seem to think I’m training to be a butcher, not a tattoo artist.”

Toby lets out an uncharacteristic laugh and sits next to her, mind filled with images of a future Donna with dyed hair and full tattoo sleeves.

She shoves him off the counter. “What?”

“Come on, it’s funny! You’re Donna Moss, you really want to work at a tattoo parlor?”

She turns her head firmly, staring straight at him. “Yeah! Yeah, I do. I want to work everywhere and learn everything and not just be Donna Moss, the blonde ditzy girl who can’t stick to a major.”

Well, he can understand that. Donnatella Moss is an interesting girl, the opposite of what he had expected to find in someone as— well, as blonde and sweet and young as her. But ever since she had walked in, incessantly asking questions about his shop and practically begging for a job, Donna hasn't stopped surprising him. She’s eager to learn everything about everything, flower meanings and proper bouquet arranging and the ins and outs of running a small business. She’s a business major— well, sort of. He said that tentatively because Donna had changed majors over and over again through the years he had known her. But this one seems like it’ll stick. She has a knack for business, enough of a knack that she had been able to talk herself into jobs at two stores on the same block.

As much as Toby judged her at first, he has to admit that she knew what she was doing. And he doesn’t want to lose one of his best employees— not that he would ever tell her that— but he isn’t about to hold her back from something that for some reason, she seems very interested in.

“Okay. Then I say do it. If that’s what you want, the shop can operate without you.”

“Uh, you know I’ve already been working there, right? I don’t need your permission for everything, you ass.”

The combination of Donna’s snark and the ridiculously big grin on her face almost makes Toby laugh.

“Hey, I’m still your boss. I should have gotten rid of you when I had the chance,” he groans.

“I mean, I already have a job lined up! It’s been like two weeks, I’m sure they’d take me full time if I asked—“

“Shut it, Blondie.”

“Don’t call me that.” She rolls her eyes, but the whisper of a smile on her face gives her away. “Speaking of working at a tattoo parlor—“

A smile grows on her face as Toby shifts uncomfortably in his spot.

“Donna, I swear—“

“Oh, don’t even try and deny it, just tell me how you're going to woo her.”

“Woo her? What is this, one of your Cary Grant movies? This isn’t the 1930s.”

“Um, Cary Grant was the 1940s. Well, and 50s. And I know what year it is, the year doesn’t matter,” she says with a bright smile, pushing herself off the counter and landing solidly on the tile. “Every girl wants to be wooed, Tobias. You work at a flower shop, she’s upstairs, give her a rose or something!”

“God, it’s like I haven’t taught you anything. A rose is nowhere near the most romantic flower, it’s too cliche,” he mutters. He’s barely listening to her response, though, too busy imagining what would happen if CJ knew the full truth behind the bouquets he gives her every morning. His gift for her every single day, love and adoration and strength, placed delicately in a vase and arranged to perfection. And she still thinks it is just a decoration for her shop, a way to brighten up the waiting room in between the burly guys and terrifying girls who frequented the tattoo parlor. CJ had no idea what the flowers really meant.

Donna grabs a handful of blood red roses, camellias and carnations from the shelf— a handful that had probably been painstakingly put together and shelved by him, or Sam, or Ginger, or even Donna herself two days prior— and threads one through her hair with a concentration and precision Toby envies. She holds the rest out to him with a knowing look.

“Sometimes cliches are cliche for a reason.”

A retort dances on the tip of his tongue, a retort that will surely remind Donna he isn’t about to take romantic advice from a woman whose only experience is with douchey ex-boyfriends and her new boss— the boss she had pined after for years, long before she had been given a job.

But he doesn’t get a chance to answer before the old bell rings on the door, pulling him out of his thoughts. Toby looks up— and in less than a minute, he’s finding the customer the exact right flower to give to a new neighbor (forsythia, for anticipation of good things to come, apple blossoms, for good fortune, and peppermint, for cordiality).

It reminds him of the flowers he gave to CJ when she first moved in, after they met for the first time. He still remembers the way she looked, walking into the shop, her ever-present grace and fire shaking him to his core. The customer leaves and he’s left to stare at his wall of flowers, nothing to focus on but Ginger and Bonnie’s quiet whispers in the storeroom and the pounding rhythm from the deafening music upstairs. He only sits for a minute before his mind drifts back to thoughts of CJ.

And in a second, like someone had whispered it into his ear, he remembers exactly why today was a big day. Six months ago, she had started her tattoo shop. Five months and three weeks ago, he’d seen her face through a glass door and his heart had practically stopped. She said she likes surprises— a small detail that’s managed to stay in his memory for all these months, like a diamond buried in sand waiting for someone to come along and lift it out. And if his father had been able to charm her with flowers, so can he. He’s a hell of a lot more likable than his father. But that isn’t the point, Toby reminds himself. The point is to celebrate his friend’s victory. If there was ever an occasion for flowers, this is it.

He decides to create a bouquet that reminds him of her— daffodils and dahlias and daisies, gladiolus and ivy and yellow jasmine and kennedia. He doesn’t dwell on what they mean for too long, the sentiment behind the flowers obvious to him but hopefully not to anyone else. His plan fails in a remarkably short time.

“Hey, boss— well, that’s a very romantic bouquet,” Ginger points out with a curious glance, poking her head out of the back room.

“Boyfriend or crush?” Bonnie adds on as she hugs her girlfriend from behind.

Toby doesn’t answer. He’s too busy trying to think of a way to get out of this conversation— apparently, the sentiment was obvious to everyone. The downside of working in a flower shop was that the romantic flowers never went unnoticed. They all know the bestsellers, of course, the red roses and tulips and orchids, typically bought by a regretful boyfriend who they all knew was going to be dumped in 2 to 6 business days. But a bouquet like this either means a customer had done a hell of a lot of research, or someone in the shop had picked the flowers themself. So, in a few seconds, Toby’s private, meaningful bouquet is about to become everyone’s business.

“I don't know,” he mutters. He can’t even think of a feasible lie— he’s too busy trying to calm his heartbeat that’s pounding in his chest, faster than the most enthusiastic drummer in a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade.

“Uh, I think it’s a crush,” Ginger notes. “Gladiolus and daffodils? Seriously—“ She shakes her head, the amused reaction of someone in a happy, stable relationship who had forgotten what it was like to be one of the lonely hearts. “—It screams unrequited love.”

Toby’s head snaps up at that. “Love?” he sputters. “That’s just- I don't know. I think it’s just a crush.”

He’s showing all his cards, now, and one of the girls is bound to figure out who put together the bouquet in a minute or two. But he doesn’t care. He turns around, about to walk to the cashier and hoping no one stops in.

“So,” Donna steps into his path with a knowing glance, the glance of someone who’s very obviously been listening this whole time. “You made the bouquet, right?”

“Donna—“

“Oh!” She lets out an excited squeal and throws her arms around him, before realizing exactly what she was doing.

“Donna,” he sighs.

“Right. Sorry. But is this-“ she lowers her voice. “This is you wooing, right?”

Toby lets out an exasperated groan. But she’s right, of course. This is, in some twisted way, his idea of wooing. Donna spends the rest of her shift giving him tips on what to say to CJ while simultaneously filling orders in the storeroom, a combination that leads to more than a few mistakes on her part.

But eventually, she leaves, and he’s left with a too-long lunch break to contemplate how to give CJ the gift. They’re just flowers, he reminds himself. Don’t make it weird, Ziegler. But his gift is more than just flowers, it’s a reminder that there’s someone rooting for her. A reminder that he’s proud of all she’s done in this past six months. Well, that’s what he hopes it’ll be.

Toby hears the bell ring and looks up— for once, he’s not expecting to be CJ. But it is. She stands outside and meets his eye with a careful glance, more anxious than usual. This is the moment he’s been waiting for, he thinks as she comes in.

“I got you coffee,” she says without a greeting.

He can’t stop staring at her. God, she’s beautiful. Tattoos dance down her back like battle scars, tangible reminders of her strength every time she walks into a room.

“Thanks, CJ.” Donna swoops in with an easy smile and gives Toby a nudge, silently telling him to stop staring like a pervert and to say something. Or maybe her look said none of that, and he was just projecting.

“You’re- uh, thanks for the coffee,” he says abruptly, turning back to the task at hand.

“It wasn’t for you.” She smirks as she says it, eyes dragging over his body in a way that made Toby feel like a live wire. He can feel her eyes sparking with electricity as she watched him stock the new shipment of flowers.

God, she makes him act like such an idiot.

Toby can't imagine what CJ must think of him, the owner of the shop downstairs who has a huge crush on her and couldn’t form more than a few sentences when she was in his line of sight. She’s just so strong, so pretty— not that beauty is all that mattered to him, but it’s practically impossible not to notice her deep brown eyes and hair that flowed down her back like a cascading waterfall. And her grace, the way she commands all the attention when she walks into the room, how she is sharp but never cold, never mean. And her genius amazes him— he isn’t one to be overly complimentary of another person, but she’s taken a part of the building that hadn’t had customers in years, and turned it into a lively, successful tattoo parlor. He knows they’ve only talked a few times in the months since she had started her shop, but her very presence brightens up his store.

She is like a sunflower, light following wherever she goes.

And maybe she has no idea who he is, beyond someone she talked to occasionally who brought her flowers for her shop. But for some reason, he still finds himself desperately wanting to know more about this woman with a million tattoos adorning her arms, this woman who knew his father and loves Donna as much as he does and has turned a lifeless corner into a booming business. He wants her, and it feels inevitable, a predestined fate that was sealed the moment he first saw her.

CJ leans her arms on the counter and lets her head fall. He isn’t sure what to do. So he doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t press, just pulls out a chair and motions for her to come sit in it. That lifts the awkwardness out of the room, thankfully, as she collapses into the chair next to where he’s working. They sit there for a while, just like that. And then he feels her breath on his shoulder and suddenly can’t think of anything but how good she smells, and how easy it would be to turn around and pull her closer. She’s like a magnet, this woman. It drives him crazy.

“Toby?” Her voice is soft, delicate, nothing like the steely way she usually speaks.

“Yeah,” he swallows, preparing to answer a question about why he acts so weird whenever she’s there.

“What’s the bouquet for?”

He turns around and follows her eyes to the bright bouquet of flowers still on the counter— the bouquet he made for her less than 20 minutes ago.

“You,” he manages to say. Her eyes widen, a delighted smile growing on her face. “I mean, it’s your sixth month here. I figured you deserved a gift for the shop’s anniversary. I know it’s not much, but—

“No.” She stops him, hands over her heart like he’s touched her deep inside, in a place behind her walls and behind her cool facade, the place where her strength lives. It pulls on his heartstrings, the thought of her choosing to trust him with that. It lights him up inside— the thought that he made her happy, even for a minute, hits him in a place he didn’t know was able to feel so deeply.

“I- really? I mean, thank you, it’s beautiful.”

“So are you.” He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. Who said stuff like that? He isn’t some cheap hack trying to pick her up at a bar, he’s her friend.

CJ’s eyes are wide as she tries to pick out the meaning of his words. He worries he stepped over the line, ventured into the unknown territory they have yet to allow inside their newly-forged friendship.

“Well, you certainly are a gentleman,” she laughs a little bit. It didn’t feel like a joke. The air between them is taut, filled with more tension than a magnetic field. CJ leans in, just a little bit. And suddenly Toby wants nothing more than to lean into her, to pull her close and show her how much he had meant his words. But instead, he pulls away. She was like the sun, and he knows that if he leans in, they will collide. They will burn bright and flame out in an instant. She matters too much to him for it to be a fling, and right now, that was all they would have. Toby grabs the bouquet and holds it in between them.

“Here,” he breathes, hoping she’ll stay for a while longer but also knowing that if she does, his resolve will crumble in a second. “Congratulations.”

CJ gives him a cautious, slightly confused, smile— “Thanks.”

She takes it from his hands, fingers brushing as he lets go. She blushes, the pink on her cheeks complimenting her black camisole. He watches her go, the bell ringing as the door slams shut. He hears it again a few minutes later, a few customers filing in to fill the stretch of emptiness that happens in the hours when he’s the only one in the shop.

He doesn’t love CJ. He barely even knows enough to like her, but that is something that happened without him even noticing. Like a wave crashing against the shore, he didn’t realize until he was drowning in it. CJ Cregg is an enigma, a woman who can make anything happen and does, a woman who makes him feel like he’s breathing in electricity.

Life’s a funny thing, Toby thinks. No one ever sees the big things coming, until suddenly your estranged father is dead and you’re the sole owner of his flower shop.

It’s startling, how much the last year has changed him. The thing he always was ashamed of growing up, something he never quite understood as a kid, has somehow become his solace. It’s grasped onto his heart, this lively little corner of DC, and refuses to let go. He even finds he’s minding the shrill bell above the door less as the months go by, and the silence more than more. A customer walks in, and Toby rises to help him. He pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind— his unnecessarily morose self-reflection can wait. He has a job to do.

#ahhhh i did it!!!#i’m sure there are many mistakes but. here you go. this is obviously for the #tww flowershop au #tww #tww fic #my fic #fic tag #cj x toby #aleena writes #okay guess i’m doing this!!

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yellowocaballero · 4 years ago

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Realized how much sense it makes that Deisha, the s!5 version of Jon, is the part of him that holds trauma. It's really interesting because trauma really is a weight around the neck of the characters of tma, dragging them down and twisting them into monsters--and yet Jon's trauma also is a major factor in him opening up, needing other people, and ultimately drop his cold shell in canon. His trauma is the source of his monstrosity, but also his empathy for other people, which is like one of the only things stopping him from being a complete monster in s5. No wonder Deisha is s5 jon, rather than jon--she carried the trauma for him. It's really interesting in how it's a push and pull, where trauma is a big root of the most objectively monstrous and objectively most human things about jon. Even more so how he pushes much of the monsterhood and negative effects of trauma into strizlx--brings a new meaning to "the owl made me" in his intervention.

Idk just dudddeee the number of lenses you can use to look at jon and co. in this fic...like how did you keep all of this straight when you wrote it????

(Your daemon au is living rent free in my head.)

Hey uh, this take is better than any take I have about that story, and it’s a more in-depth and astute reading than I knew about or intended, so...wow? Holy shit this is such an interesting take. I’ve never thought about this, but the text supports it.

The topic of “Jon’s trauma is what makes him a good person” is one I’ve hit upon in another story, The Crow’s Funeral. There, he basically has the power and demigod status of S5 Jon, but he’s amnesiac and he’s never experienced...trauma. So he’s an all-powerful, childish shithead. I think Jon is someone who has been constantly victimized by powerful people, relentlessly, and he knows how terrible it is. He knows how much it hurts. He hates how he’s been turned into someone with the power to victimize. And he doesn’t want to inflict that pain and hurt onto anybody else. Jon’s been hurt, so he knows how horrible it is to be hurt, so he doesn’t want to cause hurt. It’s such an important part of him.

But I also enjoy, as you said (I vibe with you very hard), how TMA is willing to have someone’s trauma just turn them into an asshole. Everyone in TMA is an asshole. I’m careful to write every character as an asshole, because they’re just little Jenga towers of trauma responses and PTSD. As I say a lot - “sometimes trauma doesn’t make you into a woobie who flinches a lot and has panic attacks, sometimes it just makes you an asshole”. And a take that I used for Jon in Hope Etc, which is a little out of character but that I just had to include because it’s what I resound with, is that feeling of...fuck you. Resentment, anger, bitterness. Why me. If you want a monster I’ll GIVE you a monster. It happens, a little. It doesn’t make him a bad person, it makes him a human person under the worst circumstances possible who makes bad choices because every human is weak. As Strix said (and this is understated, but it’s a line that is kind of essential) - “It’s hard to be a good person in the Magnus Institute”. It makes him do the worst things imaginable to people, but the reasons why are painfully human. I explore this a lot - my story Martin and the Dream Boy JUMPS out with “Jon as a supervillain who is a supervillain because his pain crushes him” - but I think this story literalizes that. This story literalizes every metaphor. That’s why I wrote it jaskldf.

So bringing this characterization into daemons - Deisha is Jon’s “emotional” self. This isn’t true for every character (Basira and Daisy as counter-examples), but it’s true for Jon. Children trauma responses are different from adult ones, in this fantasy world an in real life, but I think so much trauma as a child pre-disposed Deisha towards severe trauma responses as an adult. Also true in real life.

Jon, when traumatized, becomes kind. He also does crazy shit. So that’s Deisha. I’ve never thought about it this way, and you’re more intelligent than I am, but...yeah! It’s only briefly mentioned, but Jon’s paranoid breakdown manifested in Jon still being pretty functional, but Deisha was self-harming, having the paranoid episodes, acting aggressively and confrontationally, and just being neurotic. Which looped back into Jon and stressed him out immensely. (Jon is so upset in this fic he kind of mentally glosses over how their relationship hadn’t always been good, which I only mention in passing). So that Dark Dust swirls, and swirls, and swirls...

And eventually you end up with the person who trauma made, which is Strix. And the awful little thoughts and feelings and impulses and bitterness and resentment that trauma made, which is Strix. And you end up with the Beholding and the monstrous impulses to feed and devour, which is Strix. And you’re so weak and tired and depressed and lost that, when these thoughts become so overwhelmingly powerful, you’re too tired to resist. You don’t WANT agency. You don’t WANT choices. You “know” all of your choices just ruin your life, you never make a good choice, all you make are bad choices. You just want to have no choice. The Owl made him.

Jon’s weak. That’s kind of what I like about him.

Thanks for reading and the SUPER insightful comment!!

#me reading this ask and your previous comment: maybe they should write this story instead?#my writing

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sxfterhearts · 5 years ago

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40. [8:59 am]

➳ pairing: mark x reader

➳ genre/warnings: fluff, coffeeshop!au, barista!mark, side!jackson,yugyeom (being silly)

➳ word count: 2,038 words

➳ summary: “I made this for you”

➳ author's note: for @strxwberri-milk 💖 i truly truly appreciate you!!! :”) and thank you for indulging me with your story hehe i hope something similar to this happens to you 🤭

➳ inspired by: (no one asked but) the bookstore in hear, here!!

You were early.

On regular meetups with your friends or even your dreadful 9ams, you would be running at least fifteen minutes behind schedule.

Today, however, you were early.

Therefore it goes without saying that meeting your Chemistry lab partner in the café he worked at to discuss your upcoming report was anything but a regular meetup, especially because said lab partner is none other than Mark Tuan, also known as the intelligent, introverted shooting guard who mostly stuck to and looked after his group of six other basketball jocks. Or your crush for the academic year, for short.

Taking in a nervous breath of air, you reached for your phone and began to type.

[08:59] Me: Hey, I got here early. I’ll go inside first and save us a spot.

Your feet tapped against the pavement as you stood beyond the café doors, your fingers gliding across the screen as you began typing another text to describe your outfit, just in case he couldn’t spot you amongst the sea of café patrons. It’s busy on Saturday mornings anyway, you rationalised your decision to double text, who cares, right?

[09:00] Mark: Yellow jumper and white Converse??

He had beat you to it. Your fingers halted its motions, staring intently at the panic-inducing typing bubble.

[09:00] Mark: I like your outfit :)

[09:00] Mark: And good morning!!!

It took all the self-control you had within yourself to not jump into a little happy dance right in the middle of the street. Calm down, Y/N, your inner voice rang clearly through your fuzzy thoughts, it doesn’t mean anything. Don’t overread his texts. Don’t overthink. Don’t –

“So,” A deep mellifluous voice broke you out of your daydream, its owner’s head poking out of the doors with his signature charming smile as an invitation. “Are you going to come in?” Your ears not failing to pick up the slightly teasing lilt in his tone. “Or are you going to stand there?”

For a few moments, you slowly tilted your head up, staring at Mark with a mildly shocked expression. Mark, with his fluffy permed hair and neat barista outfit, a white button up, black apron and a tiny bowtie around his neck. Mark, holding the door open for you, welcoming you into the humble establishment with a guiding hand. “Ah, Mark. Hi.” The words awkwardly stumbled out of your lips as you stepped inside. “Thank you.”

It felt like you were stepping into another universe, eons away from the quiet neighbourhood beyond the double doors. The café was situated a distance away from your home, hence why you never visited until now, despite many of your classmates’ recommendations of the café for group study sessions. Being more of a library person yourself, you couldn’t imagine being able to focus in a place where customers were constantly entering and leaving, and people were allowed to talk over one another.

This café, you realised, was different. Its white-bricked walls were lined with shelves upon shelves of novels, with colourful volumes of all shapes and sizes on display. Most patrons seemed to be preoccupied with their own reading or chatting quietly amongst themselves, mindful to not disturb or distract others with loud noises. The atmosphere was peaceful; serene. The only audible sounds were the rhythmic whirring of the coffee grinder or the low whistle of the milk steamer, which didn’t bother you at all.

“What can I get you, Y/N?” Mark asked in a practiced manner. You followed him deeper into the café and admired its interior, which strongly resembled a bookstore. While you were busy perusing the selection of CDs behind the counter, you felt a clipboard being thrusted into your hands. It was the menu. “Should I choose instead? It’ll be a surprise.” He offered, noticing how your eyes glanced over the paper repeatedly, never settling on a single item.

“Yes, please.” You were simply spoilt for choice – there were one, two, three, eight choices of coffee beans and over ten varieties of tea! “I’m not picky. I like coffee and sweet things.”

“Breakfast?” Mark asked. You shook your head. “Leave it to the capable hands of the experienced barista. Go take a seat at the table by the window, I’ll join you real soon.”

Heeding his words, you made your way towards the French windows, but not before browsing through a table full of literary classics. As you sat down, you decided that this quaint little book café was not a bad place to study after all.

Which reminded you, you made the thirty-minute commute here to discuss the results from your Chemistry experiment. Pulling out your notebook, your chest was filled with the same pang of disappointment as yesterday when you found out Mark left early for an away game and was unable to join you for the experiment. He sent you a text full of apologies and pleading eyes emojis, the first one you received from him after exchanging numbers. It took you another three or four exchanges to realise that the real Mark was very different to the Mark you thought you knew. Who would’ve thought the boy you had only admired from afar, the one who always seemed to watch over his friends wordlessly, blending seamlessly into the background, would’ve been such an enthusiastic texter? He had thrown in a generous dash of emojis, a sprinkling of GIFs and one too many exclamation marks, which never failed to pull amused smiles out of you.

“Finally decided to change the flowers on that table, hyung?” A male voice questioned mockingly from behind a nearby bookshelf.

“About time he did…” Another voice chimed in.

“Shut up, Jackson, Yugyeom.” You heard footsteps approaching you and looked up from your neatly-drawn results table to catch a glimpse of the playful glare Mark shot at his co-workers-slash-best friends. You began to wonder whether your girl friends frequented this café due to the favourable ambience or the attractive baristas.

You gave him a little wave as Mark stood in front of you and set down the serving tray. Your eyes feasted on the stunning array of goodies it carried – a cappuccino with a stunning Rosetta pattern and heavy dusting of chocolate powder, two slices of chocolate mud cake, a plate full of scones, jam and cream, and a butter croissant. The small jar of fresh, seasonal blooms in the corner – roses, daisies, chrysanthemums, daffodils and buttercups in shades of white and yellow immediately drew your attention. They complemented the shade of your mustard jumper perfectly.

Mark carefully positioned the flowers on the table before offloading the rest of the tray’s contents. “Flowers for you, Miss Y/N.”

The more you were around him, the more he surprised you. You fought hard against the blossoming heat on the apples of your cheeks, reminding yourself again to not overthink his words. Perhaps he’s just like that with every girl he talks to, you figured, there is no way he’s flirting with me.

“Surprise!” Mark exclaimed, moving onto the seat directly opposite yours. “I got a little bit of everything, so I hope you brought your appetite with you. There’s our signature chocolate mud cake, super rich and moist, wonderful scones and homemade strawberry jam, and our flaky butter croissant. Oh! Here,” He pushed the large cup of coffee towards you. “I made this for you. Try it!”

His brown orbs sparkled and twinkled as he eagerly watched you pick up the hot beverage and place your lips on the cup. A strong whiff of fragrant aroma drifted into your nose as you took a sip, your tastebuds instantly flooded with the creamy deliciousness of the coffee. You may be biased, but it was undoubtedly the best coffee you’d ever had. “It’s really good!” You finally said after several long sips. “Why is it so good?” You wondered aloud to yourself.

“Because I made it with care and love.” Mark answered without missing a beat. Upon hearing his bold declaration, you halted all movements and simply stared at him, steadily swallowing your coffee and feeling the warm liquid travel down your throat. “It also helps that we only brew the finest coffee beans and use the highest quality, imported full cream milk. A matchmade in heaven, really, I – ” He paused, noticing your unwavering stare. “Sorry, am I boring you? It’s just that, I really do love my job and I love talking about it and I’ve also been told I talk too much when I’m nervous. Sorry.” Mark cringed, frowning apologetically while visibly shrinking into his chair.

“No! No, not at all. Don’t say sorry. Actually, I like hearing you talk. As in, you sound so passionate just then. It’s just, it’s nice to hear you talk?” You wanted to facepalm yourself. Perhaps you should just dig a hole in the ground and hide in it forever. At least that way you would never have to face him ever again.

“Is that so?” Mark sat up a bit straighter, the corner of his lips pulled into a wide, heart-stopping smile. The tiny pair of adorable canines poking out of his mouth were all too distracting. “Well, why don’t you dig into your breakfast while I run you through what I’ve done so far for the report? Try the croissant first, it’s a good one to start on, fluffy and light. Alright, I stole the titration results from Youngjae’s group and used it for the calculations.” He quickly pulled out a pile of papers from his apron’s pocket while you savoured the sweet pastry. You had to admit, you never expected Mark to get any work done after his game last night. His hardworking attitude and dedication amazed you. “I wrote out the hypothesis and the matching observations for each reaction, pretty straightforward. There’s also the equations at the other side of the page, here, along with the calculations. They were a bit of a pain and I am this close to finishing up but unfortunately there’s still two more left. I can finish it while you’re eating, though, no big – ”

“Mark,” You called amidst a small, polite mouthful of cake and a light giggle, pausing his lengthy monologue. “You’ve done so much already. Leave some work for me too! This is a group project, remember?”

“Ah, right. Sorry.” He apologised sheepishly, a hand coming up to rub against his neck, embarrassed. “I guess I just wanted to make it up to you. I feel really bad about leaving you alone yesterday, Y/N. I wish I was there, with you. I would choose to watch solutions turn purple with you over playing ball any day of the week.” Mark admitted sincerely.

“Why?” You breathed. Your brain had started to get ahead of itself and pieced together the clues he’d left. Apart from his voice and your drumming heartbeats, your ears blocked everything out.

“Because I want to spend time with you.”

“Like… right now?”

“Well – ”

“Hyung! Mark hyung! Hey,” Yugyeom came running towards your table in a hurry. “Sorry to interrupt your date but,”

“It’s not…” You started, your tone shy and your eyes refusing to meet Mark’s.

“Date, study date, whatever it’s called. Sorry, Y/N, but I have to steal Mark hyung for a moment.” Yugyeom turned towards said boy. “It’s an emergency. Jackson dropped an entire crate of teacups, they’re all broken.”

“He what?!”

“There was a bee, apparently! I don’t know, ask him! He got scared and freaked out.”

Mark closed his eyes and took a deep breath, suppressing his urge to bust out a string of profanities in front of you. Once he felt reasonably calmer, he faced you. “Forgive me, Y/N. I have to go clean up after a child. I’ll be back, okay? In the meantime, make sure you eat up.”

You nodded vigorously and motioned for him to go, understanding the urgency of the situation.

“I’ll bring you another coffee later!” Mark called over his shoulder, to which you responded with two thumbs up.

A date? You thought to yourself. I guess it is a date, after all… The sweetest of smiles brightened your face as you gazed fondly at the flowers, now viewing them in a new light.

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yongiefilms · 5 years ago

Text

JUST ALWAYS.

STARRING: zhong chenle and reader

GENRE: fluff; best friend!au

WARNINGS: lawbreaking; excessive mentions of teasing; though the rest is complete friendship goals

PLOT: trust your best friend to know every detail of your life, even that one embarrassing time when you blabbered about your idea of a perfect date. but also trust him to be the one to fulfill every wish you ever had, even ones you thought would never come true.

RUNNING TIME: 2.7k

DIRECTOR’S NOTE: putting out fluff before every fic i drop is just pure angst because it is coming and very soon...but enjoy this cute scenario as my parting gift for you all (even if there will be possibly be a few more fluff fics after this, though don’t take my word for it). also shoutout to @dvrlingrenjun for always reading through my fics at ungodly hours of the day.

zhong chenle was your best friend since birth. you did everything together. there wasn’t a time when he wasn’t with you. you were the inseparable duo, the partners in crime, and one half of a whole. that was you and chenle. the best of friends, but not lovers like many assumed you to be. though that was never a problem, for it a topic of discussion that was never addressed, yet fully comprehensible to you both. it was a pure and friendly relationship, something that would sustain for years to come. he was there every step of the way and who says he wouldn't continue to be?

when you both were learning to ride bicycles, who was there? chenle. when you got your first tooth pulled, who was there? chenle. when you scraped your knee on the asphalt after running around the playground, who was there? chenle. for each and every memory.

he was always present, simply growing to be your best friend. sure you had others, consider the boys he befriended at the start of high school, but they didn’t mean nearly as much to you as he did.

you could tell him anything. do anything. there was no judgment, just absolute enjoyment. that’s the way it always went and it was why you knew whenever vacation rolled around for the two of you, it would always be the best time as long as you were with him. he planned new things every day, always making an effort and this time he said it was a surprise. nothing new, but you couldn’t help but be anxious at what he had planned.

so when he had picked you up from your house, several doors down from his own and drove to the outskirts of town, you knew something was up. he had parked at the entrance of a restricted zone and told you to follow him through the clearly broken metal fence. you had no choice but to do as he said, especially when you were losing the day fast. yet it wasn't as bad as you presumed it to be, for he led you to an expanse of a field littered with various types of flowers and plants and a very tall hill that could be seen clearer as you walked forward.

he ran straight towards the hill without glancing back to see where you were, too excited for his own good.

“come on!” he exclaimed, calling your name in the process. he was in a hurry for who knows what reason, but that didn’t stop him from making sure you were doing just fine on your own.

when he turned his body around he saw you were struggling to make your way up the steep hill after running to catch up to him. you were huffing and puffing every so often. your legs felt like jelly and you were not even halfway to your destination. it just proved how out of shape you were, well partially at least. why he decided it was a good idea to come here at nearly seven at night when the heat felt worse than it did during the day was beyond you, but it was one of the things you admire about him—your best friend since day one. he was always filled with unpredictable and undeniable fun, making your days brighter with just a grin along with his contagious laughter. you were grateful for him and his sense of adventure, but not right now when you felt you were going to collapse any second.

he rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath some phrase in mandarin before carefully going down the hill to where you suddenly stopped. one wrong move and he would tumble down the dewy grass so he had to be cautious. one of you had to make it out of this alive and you were hoping it was him considering you needed the most help.

he finally reached you after some delicate movements, where you stood relatively close to the start of the hill.

he chortled at you and your exasperated expression, one with your lips pursed together and your eyebrows furrowed. your skin was flushed from the heat and he could see some beads of sweat glistening on the top of your forehead as well as on your temples, just waiting to fall.

you weren’t kidding from being out of shape but it was mostly the humid heat emitting from the sun that was the cause.

he clicked his tongue and shook his head then proceeded to latch his hand onto your wrist to tug you up the hill since you clearly couldn’t do it yourself.

“you can never do anything without me huh?” he questioned with a quirk of his brow.

you sheepishly smiled at him and mumbled in reply, “possibly but don’t let it get to your head.”

his piercing laughter rang in your ears a second time and he trotted forward without responding, though you knew your statement added to his ever-inflating ego.

after several long minutes and repetitive stops because let us be real he had more energy than you, more strength in his legs, you had made it to the top of the hill that overlooked the cityscape of your small town nestled in between the mountains. the scenery was beyond beautiful leaving you starstruck for you never quite saw it in this light, literally. the sun was beginning to set beyond the horizon, the warm colors starting to fade into the darkness of the night. some lights of the homes in the distance were sparkling and the usual sound of cars was drowned out by nature’s bliss. a breeze could be felt that cools you down in moments, brushing against your face and his own, his hair ruffling ever so slightly.

but it wasn’t only the scenery, it was also him and what laid before you. you had guessed he had come upon the flowery hill before he had come to your house to pick you up. for the picture mimicked one you would only see in movies. a red and white checked blanket was laid on top of the dark green grass without any wrinkles in sight and was held down by a huge brown wicker picnic basket. additionally, juxtaposition to the basket, was one of your favorite novels of all time, little women by louisa may alcott, with a bouquet laying on top. you could make out some small white daisies in the bouquet, your favorite flowers something only he would know.

everything just appeared to be perfect.

his hand had dropped from your wrist as he took steps forward to sit on the blanket, leaving you to admire everything in front of you.

your eyes were wide and filled with shock, but you managed to let a soft smile slip onto your face as you focused on him.

zhong chenle amazed you. he always did.

he tilted his head, waiting to see your next move, and then patted the spot next to him, silently asking you to join him.

you shook your head to get out of your trance and strode forward, sitting down criss-cross applesauce right next to the boy in question.

“chenle...” you spoke. “what is all this?” you let out a little guffaw, a teasing tone dripping from your words. “did you do this all for me?”

he gave you a deadpan look and you had to hold back the giggles from escaping your mouth. “don’t think too highly of yourself now.” he reached over to lightly push you to the side, the laughter bubbling up from your throat.

“but in all due seriousness, it’s a picnic can’t you see?” he put his arms in front of him and made a grand gesture towards everything before you.

your cackles halted to a stop and you huffed in response, rolling your eyes at his remark. trust him to be smart with his retorts, always trying to be one step ahead while ruining the zest in the process. silence encompassed you both as you just stared at each other, but then a beam broke out on his face, his eyes transforming into little crescents. he let out a small cough to clear the air as it was now your turn to give him a deadpan stare, but it was hard when his next words warmed your heart.

“anyways...while we are having a picnic that i obviously did for you, it isn’t for no reason. do you remember that time we were just absentmindedly discussing our crushes or something like that? it was a while ago, so i am not sure if you remember, but i do.” his hand was twiddling with a piece of grass as he had twisted away from you, refusing to make eye contact. “you told me this idea you had for a perfect date. one where your partner would prepare a picnic for the two of you, specifically with a home-cooked meal and the two of you would watch the sunset while having a view of the town. you said it was basically the dream date and the person that would do this for you would have your heart.” he let out a taunting snicker and finally raised his head to gaze at you again. “imagine that, but since you clearly haven’t had a date in forever, i thought why not?”

you were about to punch his shoulder from his not so kind jab at your love life, but he jerked away just in time before continuing. “might as well put my clearly romantic side to good use. as you can see i clearly did a fantastic job if i do say so myself. i think i got the whole lovey-dovey thing down.”

you hummed in acknowledgment though you weren’t going to give him the benefit of the doubt, well not entirely at least. “sure you do,” you let out a scoff. “but lovey-dovey? buddy, need i remind you we are friends?” you furrowed your eyebrows and glanced at him weirdly, though you were being lighthearted rather than serious.

he nervously chuckled and cleared his throat, afraid you caught onto something, but he knew it was all in good mirth. however, that didn’t calm his beating heart.

his nerves were still haywire, yet he managed to place his right palm over his chest, near his heart. “did you…” he took a sharp inhale of breath. “just friend zone me?”

you hit his chest playfully. “shut up. you’re so annoying sometimes, lele.”

he gave you a toothy grin, bumping his shoulder with your own. “it is my job after all.”

another roll of the eyes. “unfortunately, but i really can’t believe you remember what i told you about my idea for a perfect date. it seems so long ago…” you trailed off, lifting your eyes to admire your town, the faint glow of the sunlight reflecting across your face.

“i always remember things involving you.”

your heart stopped in your chest at his bluntness, the evident embarrassment coursing through your veins. sometimes it astonished you how chenle never had a filter, always speaking his mind, yet with it came the fact that he sometimes did not know what he truly said. right now was one of those countless times, albeit you knew he meant declaration, especially when it came to one of his closest friends.

you could hear the shuffling besides you. chenle was obviously trying to set everything up by opening up the basket and taking out all the goodies he had prepared for this “romantic date.”

you whipped your head around to see what he was doing with making so much noise. at that moment he had managed to take out two perfectly plastic wrapped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, placing them on two paper plates he had taken out seconds before. his hand reached in the basket once more and he took out two apple juice boxes, putting them right near the sandwiches.

your titters rang loud, startling chenle in the process as his head abruptly jerked up.

you brought your hands up to your mouth to try to stop the chuckles from coming out, the sound becoming muffled. he raised his eyebrows at you, trying to figure out what was so funny. instances went by before you had finally become quiet and dropped your hands in your lap.

“chenle you can’t be serious. what is this? an elementary school meal?” you threw your head back, placing your hands flat on the checkered blanket to keep your composure.

“hey! elementary meals were good. don’t slander them.”

you brought your head forward, raising your hands up in the air for defense. “okay, okay.” your beam was wide viewing his clearly offended expression. “though i know you can cook so it came as a surprise. i am just a bit confused is all.”

he sighed loudly, leaning back on his arms. “yes i can, but i was on a time constraint so i couldn’t hone in on my cooking skills today, okay? sorry to disappoint. though if you think about it this is technically home-made.”

“you’re not wrong, but hey i will take what i can get.”

“thank you for your generosity.” he let out a scoff then reached to the side of the basket and picked up your favorite book, thrusting it into your hands. “now here, i couldn’t forget to bring it.”

you ran your fingertips across the cover, turning it over in your hands to admire every inch of the novel even if you had seen it a thousands times before.

he poked your shoulder blade to capture your attention amongst your state of admiration. he held out the bouquet of flowers you speculated he had picked from the flowery field surrounding the hill and you put the novel to the side, taking the flowers from him.

“wow i guess i can’t deny you are a little bit romantic,” you jeered at him.

he whirled his head away, the tips of his ears growing slightly red. “now shut up and let’s watch the sunset...please.”

you let out a long breath. “fine, but don’t forget we have to eat too.”

he rolled his eyes, handing you the plate with the peanut butter and jelly sandwich along with the apple juice, which you gladly took from him after placing the bouquet down. “obviously.”

so that is how you spent the rest of the evening, like the perfect date you had in mind years ago―watching the sunset and eating a homemade meal even if it was something straight out of the elementary school cafeteria, while sitting atop a hill that encompassed the whole town.

when the light of day finally faded away, you cuddled close to your best friend, seeking some sort of contact even if the coolness of the night was rarely felt.

he didn’t even think twice before putting his arm around you, tugging you a little bit closer to him. when he did so you placed your head on his shoulder, rotating away from the now dark sky to peer up at him with puppy dog eyes.

you spoke so gently that if anyone managed to pass by the two of you right then, they wouldn’t be able to hear you from the barely evident sound.

“hey lele?” you question.

he hums in return, still observing the twinkling lights of the town and stars.

“thank you for today. i enjoyed our little friend date, definitely was like i imagined it to be.” you released a small giggle. “a perfect date indeed so thank you for doing this for me.”

he turns his head down to glimpse at you once you finish talking, his gaze filled with fondness. he then shifted slightly and placed a kiss on the top of your head, murmuring his next words.

“you’re welcome.” you could hear the smile in his voice.

you looked straight forward, no longer locking eyes with him and whispered into the night,“i love you.”

his melodic laughter filled your ears. “yes i know.” he paused, murmuring right back. “but i love you too.”

you held out your pinky finger, raising it slightly so he could clearly see it among the increasing blackness.

“always and forever?” you asked.

he hooked his pinky with yours.

“always and forever.”

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baekberrie · 5 years ago

Text

heal me - bbh

✨Genre: Romance, angst, fluff, hearing loss and outcast au (if that makes sense)

✨Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Everything surrounding you started seeping into brighter colors the first time you saw him.

It wasn't a particular day. The sun was hiding behind fluffy clouds painted in streaks of gray, the breeze fluttering the curtains by the big windows felt colder than it should have been in the mid of May. While the adorable daisies were eagerly starting to pop in the grass, it was hard to grasp the spring with such unstable weather. Your gaze was lost in the immensity of the sky, it was one of those days. Those days who blended in with the rest, those who were blurry whenever you tried to recall them- and you- you just existed, sitting by the desk in the classroom while people walked past you, sat in their seats and acknowledged each other. You were there and yet it felt as if you were just invisible. A sigh pushed past your lips as you mentally encouraged yourself. It was going to be another of these unbearable days, treated like you were absolutely nothing more than dust, but you knew you were going to make it until the end of the day, like always. While the sun was up, you allowed yourself to show only one expression, only when you were in the safety of your home would you finally let the loneliness overwhelm you. You let it take your breath away from your lungs and spill from the edge of your eyes, into small but infinite tears.

The ringing bell was just a distant sound while you tried your best to swallow the growing lump in your throat. Thinking about how lonely you felt would always end up in you hurting your own feelings. But for the first time, you didn't have to calm your own frantic heart, for when the teacher entered with a new student next to him you totally forgot about what was going through your head. It had been a while since a new face had entered this class. In fact, you had memorized everyone's face and names on the very first day, while you were sure that no one even remembered yours. The boy looked tall next to the teacher although his height was just average. Your heart skipped a beat, there was something that struck you when gazing at him. It wasn't his incredibly intriguing droopy eyes, nor the way his brown hair fell so beautifully down his face. And although you were taking notice of all of these things, it was neither the way his smiley-like lips pronounced his name or how his voice was the most melodic sound you'd ever heard.

"I'm Byun Baekhyun, please take care of me." He introduced himself shortly and you found yourself slightly flinching when his orbs pierced right into yours as he spoke. That, that was what struck you. You had never seen this boy before, and yet- as no one had ever done in many years, he hadn't looked just past you, right through you as if you weren't there. Instead, he had held your gaze while his serious expression had shifted into a gentle smile that you had never had directed to you and you just could not comprehend it, nothing of it- that someone had just acknowledged you, although in the most minimal of ways. It might be something completely irrelevant for anyone, but you couldn't just help the swelling heart inside of your chest, how it trembled so eagerly that you felt it rub against your ribs.

As if a sheet of paper splashed with watercolor, you felt yourself absorb its colors and slowly but surely you became a part of the world you were living in, and no longer a mere wallflower.

The second time you shared contact with him was a good amount of days later. You had to admit, his mere presence had made your life so much more interesting, it felt as if you had discovered a new book that you just knew you were going to love, and perhaps, you had become more eager to live it. Every morning you would wake up with anticipation buzzing through every inch of your body. It was a feeling that you couldn't help, nor did you know how to handle it, the curiosity that bloomed within you as if flowers in the wild. Were you being odd? It wasn't like you followed him around or anything of the sort. You contented yourself with stealing glances at him in class, and little did you use the excuse that he was answering the teacher to stare at him a little more freely.

It was lunch break for everyone, and just like any other day you were wandering in the gardens of the school while taking tiny bites of your only sandwich, trying to make it last longer although that didn't sit too well with your hungry stomach that wanted all of it right away. It was when you saw him sitting in your usual spot that you completely forgot about your empty stomach and the half-eaten bread in your hand. Baekhyun who was sitting on the grass underneath a tree with his eyes squinted to his notebook and his hand scribbling away while surrounded by small daisies looked like a beautiful photograph, and you would've taken one if you didn't stand religiously by privacy rules.

You did feel extremely timid but still fought against the feeling and willed yourself to take a step into his direction, and one more, one more, until you were standing behind him. You were to be surprised when you saw that he had actually been drawing. His hand moved incredibly skillfully across the paper as he quickly drew lines here and there, picturing the small flowers proudly peeking from the grass. Only when he extended his index finger to smudge the coal on his drawing did you notice the pretty shape of his nails and fingers, and for a short moment, you felt slightly jealous of his unfair beauty. It was strange that he hadn't noticed your presence behind him yet, and to be frank, you would have never imagined that you could ever be capable of speaking to a stranger first, but there was an urge in your chest. You really wanted to know the reason behind your sudden eagerness toward someone that had simply graced you with a smile.

You swallowed before crouching down so that your heights were the same, for a moment, all you could do was chew nervously on your lip.

"Your drawing is very pretty," You finally managed to breathe out and all you could make out for a moment was how your heartbeat echoed like loud drums in your ears. But soon enough it was confusion taking over when the boy did not budge the slightest. You frowned as the confusion morphed into slight hurt and thousands of doubtful thoughts clouded your mind. Perhaps you had been too hopeful to believe that a little smile had been more than a mere coincidence. He probably meant nothing with that, he was not the least interested in what you had to say. Teeth drilled into your lip as you stood up to leave, the embarrassment washed over you like a bucket of ice-cold water, crawling into your chest and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to try and lessen the feeling.

"Did you say something?" You immediately spun around with your eyes widening when Baekhyun suddenly called out to you, only to see him plug something into his ears. Hesitantly, you nodded, taking small steps closer to him.

"I said that your drawing is very pretty." You repeated while desperately trying to hide the insecurity in your trembling voice, crying inwardly for how your it cracked in the middle of your sentence. Baekhyun's questioning expression had like that one time, softened into a smile that made his eyes disappear into small, twinkling crescents as he muttered a shy thanks and rubbed his neck.

"I'm sorry if it seemed as if I was ignoring you, actually I..." The boy trailed, reaching out to his ear and picked the hearing aid off it, mustering it to you. A loud gasp left your lips and you couldn't be more ashamed for having assumed so many things about him without even knowing better.

"I have an extreme hearing loss, and well," He chuckled, "sometimes these things get uncomfortable so I take them off." He owed you no explanation, and yet there he was, being extremely friendly at the same time as extremely oblivious to the fact that you had in head your dragged him to the same corner of toxic people that were in your class. Regretfully, you imagined yourself dragging him out of that corner and apologized.

"Uh, no, actually I am sorry- I..." To your surprise, he laughed without even letting you finish your sentence. You had no idea what he found so funny, but the warmth in his voice felt like the sweetest medicine for your wounded heart. His chuckles faded into thin air and as soon as it was over, you found yourself wanting to hear more of it.

"Sorry for what?" He shook his head, "It's okay, it happened a long time ago, it's not a sensitive topic." he explained calmly, fearlessly keeping the eye contact. Compared to you, he wasn't scared to hold other people's gaze as he spoke.

" Do you want to see my drawing?" Baekhyun offered a closer look at his masterpiece and somehow, even if your legs were by now jelly, they held your weight as you took the remaining steps towards him and squatted down to see his art.

It was beautiful, but you couldn't help but think that his expression full of joy as he showed you was too, and more.

✨✨✨

If your life had been interesting in the first days of his arrival, right now, you believed it had turned into the most magical film- for one meeting with Baekhyun had turned into two, into three, until it became every day. At this point, you were sure nothing could ruin the happiness making your heart beat louder at the sole thought of spending your day next to him.

Underneath that big tree in the school's garden, was the place where the two of you would be together at every opportunity. The spring was bringing such lovely warmth and gentle breezes that caressed your skin in the most comforting of ways, it was a must to take part in it by sitting outside. Not many words were exchanged during those moments, and although you had grown so addicted to the sound of Baekhyun's soft and low voice, you didn't mind the peacefulness in the shared silence. In the end, you couldn't be more thankful to his sole company, sitting next to him like this was enough to curl your lips into a smile you had never known you were able to muster.

Baekhyun's back leaned against the tree just like yours, and you couldn't help but feel extremely aware of the fact that his shoulder and arm were pressed lightly against yours. But that wasn't merely it, you might have been a loner for a long time but you knew what physical contact was. You just couldn't understand the tingles taking place in your body, the extreme heat forming in that one spot where your arms brushed each other. Your favorite book was now aimlessly open in your hands as you couldn't recall when it had become so completely uninteresting. Little did you know, it was a certain someone stealing every single spotlight there was to claim. Like a sun drawing every sunflower to its brightness, he was.

The wind was softly fluttering his hair that was now a bit too long and would sometimes cover his chocolate eyes. Since both of you had opted for no talking, the boy had removed the hearing aids from his ears and let all of his concentration go to the new sketch that he had started. That was how it would usually go, Baekhyun sketched while you read your book. But this time, there was nothing you could do to hold back the extreme urge to look at him that was crawling underneath your skin. It was like his figure was magnetic and your eyes would restlessly pull to him no matter how hard you attempted to get a hold of yourself and stop staring.

At one point, you found yourself completely defeated as you leaned your cheek into your palm and succumbed to part of you that didn't want to do anything but observe him and his features that you had seen a million times by now. Though, multiple times you had been proved wrong. Baekhyun was like a painting and every time you'd look at him there would be something new for you to discover. This time there was another tiny mole on the side of his nose that entered the small constellation he already had.

While you were in a daze, Baekhyun had eventually felt your intense stare on him and so he turned slightly around to meet your gaze. As his questioning puppy eyes suddenly came into your view, you flinched back like a deer caught in headlights. Great. Couldn't you have been a little more obvious?

The boy cocked his head to the side questioningly, curiosity swam in his orbs and you could only cower underneath the intensity of his gaze. Biting your lips, you avoided his eyes and shook your head frantically, trying to dismiss the fact that he had caught you staring. The heart was crashing nervously against your ribs while cold sweat was prickling under your clothes. Heat gathered on your cheeks which did not go unnoticed by Baekhyun whose lips curled into a fond smile while his pretty hand reached out for your warm cheek. His fingers and gave it a short caress, his fingertips soft as feathers tracing your skin, making your blush turn from pink to scarlet as you froze completely in your spot.

"Liar," He whispered playfully.

Oh, how your heart was running ahead of you without giving you the chance to catch up.

✨✨✨

Pain.

A dazing pain traveled from your spine up to the back of your head after that someone had accidentally pushed you into the metal lockers. It ached, to the point of black spots appearing before your eyes. Your lips twitched at the pulsating sensation of bruises forming onto your skin while a groan pushed past your lips. Normally, you would have fled from the scene as quickly as possible, only to suffer alone in the school's bathroom. Though not a single muscle in your body induced you to run away as all you felt was a fit of overwhelming anger that heated the blood in your veins. Eyes searching for whoever had done such an unfair thing to you, a yell made its way from your throat.

"Hey! What the hell was that!?" You breathed out, nostrils flaring, "Can't you see I was walking here?" Sure, you knew you blended in with the crowd, to this day, you had never blamed anyone for bumping into you. But you were tired. So tired of it, of pretending to be fine with it. The person merely shrugged their shoulders while muttering a meaningless apology underneath their laugh.

The lump in your throat grew and your teeth drew blood from your lips when you suppressed the loud sob that threatened to erupt. It wasn't the fact that they had physically hurt you, but the completely unfair treatment that you could just not comprehend. How someone could be so repugnant to hurt someone they didn't even know and act as if nothing happened.

Only when you reached your favorite spot in the school's garden did you let the tears fall freely, knowing it would feel better to let them out than to let them burn behind your eyelids. You sniffed quietly while the cool breeze cut against the trails of salty water on your cheeks. After meeting Baekhyun you had thought that you were never going to feel like that ever again, but you were once again proved wrong. You got reminded that for Baekhyun you might be someone, but that did not make you any different from before in the eyes of others. The sigh that left your lips trembled along the shivers covering your body as the wind swept your hair behind your shoulders. Head buried in your knees and shut your eyes close, trying to find some comfort in yourself- but found only coldness, loneliness. You chuckled humorlessly by yourself, in the end, you were bound to be the same insignificant particle of dust they had made you out to be.

Rigidness made its way through your body when the faint noise of nearing footsteps reached your ears. A slender hand squeezing your shoulder made you look up from your previous position and your heart skipped a panicked beat at the sight of a concerned Baekhyun. You didn't know whether to feel relieved or uncomfortable that was witnessing you in such a state.

"B-baekhyun-" You stuttered while hurriedly drying your cheeks in a failed attempt to hide the fact that you had been crying. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw you in the corridors earlier but you weren't in class, so I came looking for you." The boy explained softly, sensing how you were in a sensitive state. He sat down on the grass in front of you.

"But- you'll miss class,"

"It doesn't really matter right now," Baekhyun dismissed without even thinking twice and ran a gentle finger down your cheek, making you shiver. "What's wrong?" Baekhyun murmured soothingly while in his orbs pooled concern. You hesitated at first, but the warmth in Baekhyun's gaze made you melt and heal all at the same time.

With your gaze cast downwards on your hands that were clamped together, you sighed, "Sometimes I just feel like I'm nothing. Like nobody sees me. And I just-" your voice broke in the middle of your sentence. "I just feel so lonely." Tears gathered on the edge of your eyes, rendering your view blurry as you intensely stared holes into your hands.

"Hey," Came Baekhyun's soft whisper, Baekhyun's soft caress as his incredibly delicate yet warm palm cupped the side of your face. "Please look at me," He pleaded, "Look at me," he repeated weakly.

His hand gently led you to meet his eyes that were frantically searching for yours.

"You're here, and I see you. I always will." Baekhyun led you to rest against his sturdy chest and for a moment you felt your breath disappear inside of your throat at the sudden action. His words echoed into your mind while you couldn't help but note how this closeness was something so unfamiliar to you and yet something that you had never known you'd needed.

Slowly but surely, he was able to chase the reason for your tears away. It felt so surreal, how warm he was, all of him. His arms, his chest, his hands that rested on the back of your waist. They were all so scorching hot in the most inviting way possible and you felt yourself melt in his embrace. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, desperately trying to crash out of your ribcage and you were sure Baekhyun could feel it, for he started rocking your bodies ever so slowly. Soon enough you were able to calm down- because Baekhyun's heartbeat was right next to yours and its melody lulled you into calmness.

He was like medicine, like everything you had ever needed. He was a blessing and his soft voice murmuring words of comfort resembled such noise as of angels singing.

Maybe, after all, you weren't completely lonely. A faint smile graced your lips as you snuggled deeper into his embrace, no, you really were not lonely. Baekhyun might be the only person you had.

But if you had him, you also had everything.

✨✨✨

Classes had ended hours ago and by now most students had already gone home. Well, except for you and Baekhyun who had stayed after class to get an assignment done. You couldn't describe the fulfilling happiness and thankfulness that overwhelmed you every time you'd even just look at him. Day by day you felt yourself become happier, brighter, the better version of yourself you would have never reached if not for him. Inside of you was no longer coldness, nor darkness, but wines, leaves and colorful flowers blooming within every inch of your body.

You were happy.

The wind was remarkably stronger in the evening, but it felt even colder when leaning against the rooftop's railing, having it sweep against the frame of your face and fluttering your hair away into every direction. While you had been at it, Baekhyun had insisted for the two of you to look at the sunset. The sky had turned into every shade of pink and violet and it amazed you how even small streaks of orange had found their way into melting in the immense painting that was the sky. It was incredibly beautiful, but what was it, even more, was Baekhyun whose fair skin reflected every color of the sunset as if a canvas itself, whose twinkling eyes mirrored the melted clouds, and the crescent moon in the sky.

How your heart skipped every beat for him and him only.

Baekhyun's ears were free from the hearing aids, you noted, wondering if you were a coward for what you were about to do. Certain words were dancing on the tip of your tongue while your fingers nervously fidgeted with each other and heat gathered on your cheeks. Your lips parted and you mentally tried to calm your throbbing heart down. It was futile. It wasn't anything you could control, it was as if your voice had a mind of its own as your lips pronounced meaningful words. A part of you felt relieved because you didn't know if you were truly ready to have him hear these words. But what you did not know was that just like you had a while ago, Baekhyun had found you way more intriguing than the breathtaking scenery.

"I think I love you," You breathed out into the breeze, looking up to the sky once again. But your sightseeing did not last long when a pair of hands suddenly appeared on both sides of your face, making you gasp. Baekhyun's soft lips came eagerly crashing onto yours without any warning. You felt yourself almost suffocating, completely out of breath, and dazed by his incredibly sweet scent clouding your senses. The boy parted away from you for a few seconds, barely allowing you to process what had just happened before leaning in again, this time way gentler. Baekhyun gently guided your lips apart before settling his own between yours, locking them into a slow, lingering kiss. They were warm, soft but most of all, tasted like strawberries, and you found yourself melting completely.

His lips detached from yours with a fond grin resting upon his face while his mischievous puppy eyes crinkled into an adorable eye smile. Baekhyun's hand was absentmindedly playing with a few strands of your hair.

"I may have removed the hearing aids," he stated matter of factly, eyebrow quirking playfully, his hand that had been playing with your hair cupped your face again, the pad of his thumb brushed against your lips.

"But I can still read your lips."

✨✨✨✨✨✨

...hello everyone! Yep, so idk if you can tell, but this was a desperate and painful attempt of me trying to get comfortable with my writing again.

Do I want to delete this right away? Yes. Do I feel anxious about posting? Yes. Do I wanna cry? Also yes-

No, but I have no idea why I have been feeling this way. I haven't been able to write a single word without feeling awful and ew just bad about everything. I guess I'm just very afraid of being irrelevant and not being as good as I was before. sigh, I sound stupid don't I?

Well, I hope this wasn't a complete, boring failure and that at least you guys could enjoy it! Please do tell me what you think, give me feedback, where I'm lacking or even some advice to get back on track with the positive thoughts. It would be nice💕 Have the nicest day, lots of love and hope, P💕💖

sorry for errors!

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solarianvoidthearoace · 4 years ago

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Excerpt#3 from my JonGerry AU WiP

CN/TW: smoking mention, disclosure of finances, discussion of sleep-overs, relationship negotiations, explanation of heteronormativity and amatonormativity, gender coming-out (sort of?), fond insults/banter

Still, Gerry cringed a bit,

“I suppose I have to apologise for not telling you…?”, he winced,

“I mean you couldn’t have known and… looking back it does feel like sort of misleading you, I mean all you knew was that I work two jobs.” They buried his face into Jon’s chest. Instead of commenting, he simply patted their hair, holding Gerry close and letting him be dramatic for a minute.

“Well, that does explain your insistence to pay whenever we are out together”, Martin spoke up after a minute,

“I noticed you even occasionally snatched the bill when Jon or I mentioned inviting us others.” Gerry slowly looked up,

“Well, yes. I can’t imagine you floating in money. I grew up working in a bookshop after all and it only really build a financial buffer after I sold it all to collectors. And Jon mentioned his overtime going unpaid more often than not. Plus it’s just nice to know I can do that for you without having to make cuts on anything. Only thing I really want to cut on is smoking, but that’s an intervention for another day, yea?” They gave Jon a gentle squeeze around the waist. He was still reluctant to let them go but did move onto the armrest of the armchair instead.

Despite Gerry’s reluctance, the three of them did talk a bit more about his finances, something he had glossed over when clueing Jon in about his art career. After some more reassurances that they won’t see Gerry in a different light, they let the evening end. Seeing Martin off at Gerry’s doorstep was weird, in Jon’s opinion. But turning around and knowing he was with Gerry to stay had him almost glowing.

“Home is where the heart is”, Gerry smiled, gently cupping Jon’s chin,

“Seems like I finally get both in one place.” Blushing, Jon looked down,

“It’s not like…”, he suddenly thought better of it, biting his lip. A gentle brush of Gerry’s thumb against his bottom lip, light nudging of their fingers under his chin, had him look up again.

“Not like what, doll?” He relented with a sigh, his exhale ghosting over Gerry’s hand,

“It’s not like I never called you my home before.” A warm shiver ran down Gerry’s spine, making them wrap their free arm around Jon and pulling him in. Instead of a kiss, which would have been so easy with the way they still held his chin up, Gerry rested their foreheads together,

“Welcome Home, then.”

Gerry had been right, though. With Jon no longer having an apartment of his own, Martin spend the occasional afternoon at their now shared flat. He didn’t really mind, they weren’t exactly friends with Martin themself but the man was nice to spend time with, even shy as he still was around them.

Besides, due to Gerry’s admittedly haphazard working hours without any structure or obvious sense to them - something Jon had called him out on multiple times before moving in - he always had an excuse to leave Martin and Jon in favour of working on his art.

Which was the thing responsible for his discombobulated working and waking hours, mostly. Gerry could admit to themself, that the secondary job at the bar was mostly to keep a somewhat steady life rhythm while adhering to his own night owl inclinations.

Between Jon’s nine-to-five, the overtime he often threw in on top, and neither of them needing to cling together every hour of their free time, it was nice. Maybe a bit more companionable than what other people would consider a romantic relationship, but they always had been liberal and somewhat alternative when it came to their life choices.

Which all is rather winded to say Gerry didn’t care that Martin picked Jon up on a Saturday morning. It was Martin who seemed bothered by it.

“And it‘s really okay with you if Jon stays with me from time to time?”, he was still wringing his hands over it. Gerry shrugged, leaning back against the kitchen counter and crossing his arms,

“Why shouldn’t it be? I’m the one he moved in with. Besides, it’s not like I ever was the type for heteronormative or amatonormative relationships in the first place.”

Martin’s brow furrowed, looking around in thought before his expression turned somewhat helpless,

“So, I know what heteronormative means, supposing every relationship ever has to imitate a hetero one with one partner needing to be feminine and the other masculine, clean-cut roles and divide into approximating that 40’s cliche of the obedient stay-at-home-wife.” He shuddered at the thought,

“But what’s amatonormative?“

Gerry pulled a face, lifting one hand to rub at his chin, elbow still resting where they had crossed his arms,

“Uh, m’kay, so…” He gestured, pulling a face in contemplation,

“It’s something asexual and aromantic people struggle most with, but basically it impacts anyone and everyone. It’s pretty much the belief that everyone needs exactly one monogamous romantic-sexual partnership as the end goal for their private life to count as fulfilled. So it does hurt anyone who doesn’t want to partner up for whatever reasons, as well.” They shrugged halfheartedly, waving his hands around a bit, before facepalming,

“Ugh, Jon is better explaining this, throwing in words like „sole focal point“ and „emotional hierarchy” and shit. Like, how it interplays with other relationships any one person has, society expecting them to prioritise their romantic partner with whom they obviously have to be sexually active, because society sucks.” They gave an exasperated eye-roll, huffing at the thought, before focusing back on Martin.

The man nodded slowly,

“I think I get it. So it also hurts anyone non-partnering, like you said, but also everyone non-monogamous, regardless whether the person is a-spec or allo. Huh, I have been participating in open or otherwise non-monogamous relationships for years and didn’t know we had that much in common with… I suppose primarily aromantic people.” He hummed a sort of affirmative noise, before blinking.

“It’s weird how many things impact a broad variety of people. Oh, that reminds me, how do you feel about gendered terms? I know I should have asked way sooner, but it honestly slipped my mind, I kind of just stuck with what Jon used for you. Like, which are okay?“ Standing more relaxed than earlier, their hands propped on the edge of the counter on either side of his hips, Gerry tilted his head. Some more of their hair spilling over that shoulder,

“I did already tell you I’m genderqueer, not a man and also not exactly trans-feminine. So as for how to refer to me, anything that’s fun”, they smirked, stroking the curtain of his hair back.

“I mostly go by what’s considered male terms, though. But among friends, as sparse as they are, I’d actually prefer everyone made an effort to remember I go by he/him as well as they/them pronouns. Even if I don’t exactly present that way, it is defining to me that I’m not actually a man. As opposed to you or Jon, who just doesn’t stick to gender connotations”, he couldn’t help his snort,

“Because where’s the fun in that anyway?”

Martin suddenly had a teasing glint in his eyes,

“So you’re Jon’s joyfriend?”, he smirked. Gerry raised a brow, fighting to hold back his own grin,

“Please, I’m always a joy to be around.” As he grinned back at Martin, there was a huff from the doorway,

“A significant bother is what you are”, Jon managed to get out halfway believably before softly smiling himself. Gerry’s expression changed, his eyebrow slowly raising while they gave Jon a sceptical once-over,

“Says the guy purposefully calling me Jared just to annoy me.” He scoffed, albeit smiling fondly,

“Love you too, Jon.“

“In my defense, I didn’t know of your name change then! I was just teasing because you were being a twerp.” The two of them were broken out of their bickering, before they really got going, when Martin let out a giddy squeal,

“You’re adorable!” After a short pause, Gerry faked an exasperated huff,

“There you go again, dipshit, ruining my reputation.” He had barely finished before he doubled over in giggles, which had Jon snicker as well. Calming down, they exchanged a fond look. The silence in the kitchen stretched, before Gerry pushed themself off the counter,

“Alright”, he gestured at shooing the other two out of the kitchen,

“Get going. I was promised a quiet Saturday. Take care, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, don’t don’t anything stupid, either, and remember your bedtime. Now shoo!”

It still wasn’t often that Jon spend the night at Martin’s, but occasionally Gerry had his bed all to themself for one night at a time again. But somehow word about Jon’s changed living situation got out. Which in turn lead to his colleagues asking about the “new guy” he had moved in with while still dating their common former colleague Martin. It took Gerry some days to figure out the leak but that didn’t exactly make it better.

Sasha, Gertrude’s assistant and second-in-command, had caught onto someone having moved in with Gerry, connecting the dots with their recently resurfaced boyfriend. In turn, Sasha happened to know a snitch by the name Timothy Stoker, who decided to spike the gossip at Jon’s work with this new knowledge. Gerry finally resigned himself to having to plan a small house warming party, when Daisy, his barkeeper colleague, asked about it.

It was quite frankly beyond them, how everyone from his and Jon’s social circles seamed to know one another all of a sudden. In hopes of at least inconveniencing some people, he talked to Jon about picking a date for the party at random.

Didn’t work out. Miraculously everyone had time, a ride, and was up to snoop into their respective acquaintance’s or colleague’s private living situation.

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its-pronounced-quoassoint · 4 years ago

Text

Logan!!! On Ice

Did I actually make a Yoi!sanders sides au? Yes. This is purely self indulgent and like I don’t really know if I like it that much. I’m gonna post the first chapter on ao3 too and maybe I’ll keep going if I have the time but just consider this a tentative WIP for now. I kinda want to see if people actually care about this idea and if I can write figure skating scenes well. (I’m trying to broaden my writing abilities) This is like stretching my brain power today but heck it’s gotta happen. Anway!

Chapter 1 - A Man that Surprises

Chapter warnings: Past unhealthy behavior, mentions of depression, crying, swearing, food mention, slight panic attack, minor character death(it’s late so if there are more warnings I should add please yell at me to do so)

Ao3 link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27851718/chapters/68190586

I hope this is well recieved I kinda like this concept.

Logan Katsuki wouldn’t admit it to anyone but those who knew him well that his inspiration was rather basic. He loved to skate yes, but his reasons for continuing to every time it got difficult? That was something he preferred to keep to himself. Not because it was all too special, it wasn’t and he would admit that if you asked. He kept it to himself because it was more embarrassing than anything else. In interviews he would say that his family, specifically his mother, inspired him to continue his career in figure skating, and while that wasn’t entirely wrong, it wasn’t the whole truth either. Since Logan was young, younger than he can remember, his true inspiration was one person and one person alone. Patton Nikiforov.

The Russian skater was first shown to him by his friend Yuuko when the two had had a sleepover. She was very invested in skating at the time and wanted to show him her favorite. Patton Nikiforov was a man who surprised the figure skating scene with his ambition. He was sociable, passionate, and had found a way to capture a crowd’s attention with a single smile. Patton was everything a skater could dream of being. He worked hard and always kept a smile, you could simply tell he loved doing what he did. Logan couldn’t tell which part of that he envied most. It was after one of Patton’s performances where he won gold that Logan knew what he wanted. He wanted to be the best damn figure skater he could possibly be.

However, you don’t always get what you want and Logan had learned that many times throughout his career. His dreams started getting smaller. From winning gold, to silver, to being on the podium, to just simply making it in the same rink as Patton. And now, he just wanted to hide.

A terrible set and a terrible performance was the push that Logan needed to go over the edge. He was done. He was ending his career as a 23 year old skater with little to his name. He didn’t know what he was going to do, maybe he’d work at his mom’s bathhouse, or maybe he’d do ice skating lessons for the kids in his town, but whatever it was, he was going to do it at home. Surrounded by his family and friends. The past year had been the most difficult for him when it came to his mental and physical health, and Logan knew he couldn’t go on in those habits. Skating was no longer fun, he could no longer smile while he performed unless he forced it and Logan had to stop before it hurt him to the point of no return.

It was the night before his flight home and he was supposed to be resting, but his friend Phichit was going on the ice and Logan wanted to be there to cheer him on, no matter how much it hurt. Phichit and him had met in Detroit where they trained and eventually got the same coach. Phichit was the only fellow skater that Logan had ever really considered a true friend, on or off the ice. His caring Thai friend had done his best to keep Logan from retiring, but he could see what it was putting him through.

Logan knew he was going to miss some things about skating, but his decision was final. When Phichit’s performance was over Logan made his way as fast as he could to meet him. He’d made a few mistakes but his jumps were wonderful and he’d picked himself up, never losing his momentum.

“You did an excellent job!” Logan told his friend. “I’m proud of you Phichit, really.”

“Thanks Logan.” Phichit laughed. Logan handed his friend a small bundle of daisies, his favorite. “Lo, are you sure I can’t get you to stay? I-I know that it’s been tough but you're still so young, you can do so much.”

“I don’t wanna talk about that Phichit. I just, I don’t have much left for me here.” Logan sighed. “But you on the other hand! You’re full of talent and potential. I can’t wait to see you do so much more.”

“Oh come on.” Phichit looked away, embarrassed.

“I’m serious. And now that I’m out, well, expect my mother to send you all sorts of gifts. She was texting me during your entire performance, she loved it.” Logan said, pulling out his phone. “Just read, if you thought I knew how to flatter you should learn where I get it from.”

Phichit took the phone with a smile and began reading the messages eagerly. He wasn’t much younger than Logan, but he sure acted like a little kid whenever he was praised. While Logan Looked around the room of skaters exiting the Detroit rink and crowds outside awaiting their favorites he couldn’t help but smile. This was something he hadn’t quite decided whether he missed or not. Logan was never a sociable person, so after he’d almost dropped off the grid he was unsurprised to find he hadn’t made that much of a mark. No matter what he did he would never have the impact on the world like Patton Nikiforov had. Still, that fact simply didn’t sit right with him.

“You did good I don’t understand why you’re sulking.” A voice said to Logan’s right. A voice that was familiar to Logan, but now, in a sort of bitter way.

“Whatever.” A different person replied.

Both had russian accents and Logan knew he had not mistaken what he’d heard. Sure enough Patton himself was walking beside a fellow skater. Logan couldn’t really help himself, he just stared. He’d seen Patton a myriad of times before, but it never meant Logan got used to him. Tall, pale, silver hair, bright electrifying blue eyes, shapely jaw, perfect lips, oh Logan had always been terrible at playing straight and Patton Nikiforov certainly had never made it easier.

“Your steps could use some work but I think that comes with strength training-”

“Oh my god who cares? I know what I did wrong, it's already over.” The other russain beside him groaned. “Could you quit nagging me, you’re not my dad.”

“Virgil shut it!” The coach that they’d been walking towards bellowed. “You are an ungrateful brat, don’t you dare talk to-”

Logan wasn’t listening anymore. He’d spaced out, no longer really knowing what his surroundings were, just that he was standing, that everything felt heavy. His feet were like cinder blocks and his legs couldn’t hold the rest of his body up. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this. Found himself removed from the rest of the world. In fact he’d been doing it a lot lately.

“Lo?” Phichit’s voice pulled him out of his stupor. “Uh, here’s your phone back.”

“Oh,” Logan finally pulled his eyes away from Patton, just as he thought his gaze had been met. But no, he must have imagined it. “Thanks.”

“You okay?” Phichit asked.

“Sorry, did you want a picture?”

Logan turned around, and found yes indeed he had been right. Patton Nikiforov had caught him staring and asked him if he wanted a picture, whether it was a habit he’d picked up from years in the spotlight or whether it was to save Logan the embarrassment. Logan stepped back, he’d always wanted to meet Patton, talk to him, but something about this felt wrong. It felt so very wrong and Logan hesitated for one moment more before stalking forward, past Patton, past the moody kid, past the yelling coach, and past Phichit who was calling his name.

He didn’t stop until he was in the bathroom, the red stalls seemed so tall once he’d entered one. It almost felt like they were growing, surrounding him, overwhelming his senses. This wasn’t the first time Logan had cried, in fact it was one of many times that he’d sat and cried his eyes out. It was familiar to him. Too familiar. His eyes burned as his tears fell and he tried wiping at his face but Logan’s soft cheeks only felt raw under his hands. He hissed from the pain and ran a hand through his hair instead. Pulling at it harshly. Logan had never understood when people talked about ‘crying so hard no sound comes out’ but in this past year he felt that phrase ring true, deep in his bones.

“Logan?” Phichit had followed him, he was walking through the bathroom before stopping at Logan’s stall. “Hey are you okay?”

Logan knew if he tried to respond no sound other than pathetic cries would come out so he clamped his mouth shut.

“Okay uhm, you really shouldn’t drink the water in here so I’m gonna go get you some and then we’re gonna get out of here. Don’t worry it’ll be okay.” And with that he was gone. Logan flinched a little when the door slammed shut and he cursed himself for doing so.

He had never liked feeling so fragile, so insecure. It was something he had buried long ago and since his tremendous failure last season it had been let loose, left to encompass Logan’s being. As he began rocking back and forth, Logan’s stomach clenched in a torturous way. He heard the door squeak open once again and he covered his mouth, attempting to stifle any indication that he was crying. However when the pair of shoes stopped in front of his stall Logan knew he’d been caught. He just wasn’t sure who was there. Those were in no way Pichit’s shoes and he didn’t recognize them as anyone he knew who was there. He didn’t have too much time to figure out who they were however because one of the feet had apparently decided to kick Logan’s stall door aggressively. Logan was startled back and had to take several deep breaths before standing up tentatively and opening the door inward, facing this angry person-Logan all but hoped he wouldn’t kick Logan the way he had that door.

“Sorry I-” Logan stopped.

It was a kid. Well not a kid kid. But now that Logan had a good view of his face he knew who he was. Virgil Plistesky, the junior grand prix gold medalist. The junior grand prix had been earlier in the evening and it didn’t shock Logan that many of the competitors stayed to watch the older group as their season came to a close. This kid though, Logan couldn’t stop hearing about. Like his fellow russain skater he was an outright prodigy. He was aggressive and had a distinct style, not to mention the huge fanbase of young girls that fawned over him with more ferocity than Logan could comprehend. He wasn’t exactly intimidating, he was short, skinny, almost unnaturally pale, and had blonde chin length hair that did nothing but make him look young. The expression he held however, was nothing short of a placid face masking petty unadulterated rage.

“I’ll be competing in the senior division next year.” He said, practically snarling. He pointed a harsh finger at Logan’s face. “I’d rather not have to waste time watching your fat ass perform. So I came here to thank you for retiring.”

Virgil moved his hand back, swishing his hair out of place just in time for Logan to see his bright green eye glint before being covered again. The other eye, a pale brown color, looked at Logan similarly. No matter how bland a look he tried to leave Logan with, his eyes revealed just how angry he was. Everyone’s eyes did.

“Loser.” Virgil whipped around, the bottom of his sweatshirt flying around to hit Logan in the stomach before he walked out. Something about his pace had changed, like he’d let a little weight off his shoulders.

Logan didn’t know what to do. He was stunned for sure, no one had really spoken to him like that, let alone a teenager. Though he supposed he deserved it, he was rather easy to make fun of and teenagers weren’t entirely known for their compassion and empathy. Still, Logan had stopped crying, you’d expect those words to cut someone deep, ruin them even, all it did though was make Logan curious. Then it hit him.

“That poor kid.” Logan said to himself. “He just won the international junior grand prix and neither of his parents were here to see him.”

It was no wonder he was so upset. He’d simply needed to get frustration out, and as stated earlier Logan was easy to poke fun at.

“Lo?”

“Phichit?” Logan turned to see his friend carrying a water bottle and pretzels.

“You-you’re okay?” He asked, heading toward Logan and offering him the water.

“Yeah.” Logan said.

. . . 1 . . .

“Logan is that you?!”

Oh how Logen wanted to run.

“I’d recognize those square-ass glasses anywhere!” Okukawa Minako, Logan’s former dance teacher and now close friend greeted him happily.

Logan walked toward her though every instinct told him to book it in the other direction. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, it was just that explaining to his biggest supporter that he was the most depressed he’d ever been wasn’t exactly a conversation he wanted to have.

“Oh come on, give your aunty Minako a hug dammit!” She didn’t wait before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Even with all the weight he’d gained her hug still felt like he was being squeezed to his limit.

“It’s good to see you again Minako.” Logan said with a little difficulty.

“You bet it is! God it’s been forever! Since you’ve been gone so much has happened.” She pulled back finally and stood in front of him, posing a little. “Yuki had her third kid, that one bathhouse closed, and I got even hotter!”

Logan laughed with her and the two began making their way out of the airport and to her car.

“Everyone is so excited to see you Lolo.” She told him. “Your mom’s been making herself sick with all the worrying she’s doing over you.”

Logan didn’t say anything. One of the worst parts of this past year was knowing just how terribly his family must have been feeling during this time. That had been one of Logan’s main reasons for coming home at all, he didn’t want his family to worry over him any longer. And if he were with them more surely they’d know he was fine.

“You know Yuuko hasn’t stopped talking about you coming back today. You should go see her some time.” Minako said softly.

“I’m really tired Minako, I don’t know.”

“Yeah.” Minako sighed. “Just, ya know, try. I know it’s a lot right now and you’re probably nervous about your appointment coming up but if you can, please, just go see her. She’s giving you space cause we all know you need it, but she can’t wait for you to meet her girls.”

Logan nodded. He knew he’d try. Yuuko might as well be his sister at this point. Going to see her would probably make him happy, he just had to think of what he could possibly say. He was never the most eloquent of talkers. Thinkers yes, but translating his thoughts into words, no longer his specialty.

“How’s mom and dad been?” Logan asked.

“Well.” She said, flipping on her blinker and making a right turn. “As well as they can be anyway. With all the bathhouses closing around town it makes sense that they’re a little worried. I think they’re the only one left.”

“So it’s the bathhouses that are worrying them?” Logan asked, full well knowing the answer.

“No.” Minako’s hands fidgeted just a bit on the wheel before she sighed and stared forward.

Logan never liked this. A year and half ago Logan’s younger brother Itsuki had died in a car accident. While Logan’s father was left paralyzed from the waist down, his brother had been taken from their family and his name had become almost taboo. Logan wished he could just say his brother’s name without it bringing his father or his mother to tears. Itsuki had been the most wonderful supporter through his skating career despite having no interest in the sport and when he died while Logan was in the middle of his season it broke him. Logan however didn’t like to blame his failures on his brother’s death. That felt wrong, dishonest even.Logan didn’t want to excuse his behavior on a tragedy, he wanted to pretend like it had never happened at all. Though that wasn’t exactly the right answer either, it certainly hurt less.

When they arrived at Logan’s parents’ home Minako and Logan hopped out, heading to the front door. Logan thought perhaps his own tentative behavior may have rubbed off on his friend.

“Momma Lo your son is home!” Minako shouted with a smile.

“Oh my baby!!”

“Mother” Logan greeted

Logan and his mother embraced each other. Her hugs were always the same. Always warm, always welcoming, never overwhelming.

“Oh my dearest how I’ve missed you.” She cooed, fluffing his hair. “I made your favorite food to eat tonight and your room is all ready for you to move back in.”

“Thanks momma.” Logan smiled at her.

“Oh don’t thank me, you thank your father when he gets home. Now I want my boy to go rest up, take the rest of the day to say hi to your friends and eat and sleep. I want you to do nothing more so tomorrow you’re all ready for your appointment and you can put all this sadness behind you.” She said simply.

“I love you.” Logan said, not really knowing what else to say.

“I love you too. Now head to bed you must be so jet lagged.” She pulled back and started hurrying him off. “And you missy! You look wonderful!”

“Oh thank you momma!” Minako laughed, giving Logan’s mother a kiss on the hand.

“I thought you’d be so much more bloated considering how much you’ve been drinking.” Logan could still hear his mother smiling as she said that and he hurried off, not wanting to know Minako’s reaction.

Logan made his way to his bedroom and placed his bags down at the foot of his bed before heading back down the hallway. When he entered the small room Logan wasted no time sitting on the pillow that had been placed in the center. He looked forward at the picture on the mantle. Itsuki, he was fifteen and he was smiling so widely as he held Patton, their family’s brown poodle. Logan lit the tall candles that surrounded the picture and sat back on his heels.

You would hate me if you knew me now, Logan thought, you would never listen to an older brother like me. I just want to make you proud. How do I make you proud?

“So you came home eh?”

“I did Mari.” Logan replied. He could smell the smoke of her cigarette and turned to see her leaning against the doorframe.

“Good. It was getting real shitty without you around. No matter how depressed you are.” Mari gave him a wry smile. Logan’s sister was always blunt with him. Never surprising. Logan needed that right now. “Want a smoke?”

“No, I shouldn’t.” Logan shook his head.

“C’mon, you and I used to smoke all the time as kids, you didn’t get addicted then, I think you can have a puff.” She gestured to him with her cigarette.

“That stuff kills you Mari.” Logan told her.

“Hey, grandma Ami lived to be 103.” She rolled her eyes.

“She smoked?” Logan asked.

“No she minded her own business.” Mari chuckled.

It was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes, but he got up and walked toward his sister anyway.

“I’m sorry I’ve been gone, I should’ve come home the second he-”

“No.” Mari stopped Logan. “You should have come home when you decided to quit. But you didn’t. And it’s painful to see what this past year has done to you.”

Logan looked away in guilt.

“But that doesn’t matter.” Mari gave him a sideways smile. “You’re here now aren’t you. Even if a piece of you is still on that ice, you’re here. And you’re getting better. All that matters now, is that you’re getting better. You should jump in the hotsprings before dinner, trust me you need it.”

Logan let the room be silent. He looked back at the picture of his brother, he was so young, and could have done so much more than Logan would ever dream of achieving. Logan had asked himself why it wasn’t him, why his brother was gone and he was still there. Asking the question again almost felt normal to him. He wanted to ask his sister if that was supposed to feel normal. He didn’t.

“I think I’ll have that smoke now.” Logan said instead.

. . . 1 . . .

Hasetsu Kyushu was an island town, mostly a tourist destination nowadays but it was a nice place to grow up nonetheless. The castle town was surrounded by beautiful waters and while the castle itself was no longer home to royals, it was still a marvelous sight to behold. Now with Logan’s family being the only ones to offer a hot springs stay Logan hoped his family would start making a lot more money.

As it turned out, sitting in the hot springs to think was exactly what Logan had needed. Not only was he ready for the rest of the day, he knew what he was going to say to Yuuko once he saw her again, and he was finally relaxed enough to head into the common area, though it was just for a bit.

“With group two now finished skating we look at the scores and see-”

“Oh Logan, Logan, Logan,” Minako slurred her words just a bit as she watched the figure skating championship. “I wanted to go to this grand prix so bad, if only you’d kept at it! You could give me all their room numbers!”

“So you support me cause it makes it easy for you to hit on hot boys?” Logan asked as he was passing through.

“Hey now! Just cause it’s one of the reasons I support you, it’s not all the reasons!” She thrust her drink at him before pulling it back to sip.

Logan watched on the tv as the skaters were preparing themselves for the upcoming finale. Of course they were mostly focused on Patton. He hadn’t even put his skates on yet, he was just running through the top half of his routine but he looked so graceful doing it, it was hard to look away. Logan pulled himself out of the trance however, and left the room, Minako still rambling on about all the hot boys and other patrons getting thoroughly uncomfortable with it.

Logann stepped outside into the cold air, night was just beginning to set and buses weren’t still running. That didn’t matter however, it had been a long time since Logan had walked to the ice rink, he wanted to know what had changed.

“Leaving already? I thought you wanted to be home.” Logan’s mother gave him a smile, she was carrying boxes in through the back door and Logan put his bag down to help her.

“I’m just going to see Yuuko mom don’t worry.” Logan told her, lifting one of the boxes and walking it toward the others.

“I don’t worry about you. I worry for you.” She told him softly. “I just want you to be happy baby, and I know what makes you happy. I’m just afraid that you don’t.”

“I guess I’m still trying to figure that out.” Logan offered. He thought he’d found what made him happy, but he must not have, afterall here he was.

They were finished with the boxes and Logan grabbed his bag, waving goodbye to his mother and beginning his trek to the rink. Maybe figure skating wasn’t making him happy anymore, but he knew seeing Yuuko again like this would. As he jogged he found not much had really changed. Some of the trees were newly planted, there was a restaurant where Logan remembered a general store being, but he was sure the restaurant was nice. When Logan was little he’d always thought his home was one of the most beautiful places ever, and even with all his travelling he still thought it was truly a sight to behold. Even when it wasn’t.

Logan reached the rink as it seemed the last of its guests were leaving. He went inside with a smile, he couldn’t wait to show her.

“Hello?” Logan called when he couldn’t find anyone at the desk.

“Sorry we’re closed for today! We open at eight am tomorrow though so-” Yuuko stepped in from her office holding a pair of skates. “Logan!”

“Hey Yuuko.” Logan chuckled as she practically launched herself across the counter to give him a hug.

“Oh how’ve you been?!” Yuuko asked excitedly.

“Alright.”

Yuuko gave him a look but didn’t press any further instead stepping back and searching for something. “You wanna skate right? I’m guessing no audience is sorta your thing right now. Go on!” She finally found what she was looking for and started leading him toward the rink, though he already knew.

Yuuko had been the figure skater of the town ever since they were little. She was the one who’d helped get Logan into it in the first place. He remembered being a little boy trying out his skates for the first time, watching Yuuko as she danced across the ice, he wanted to be just as beautiful as her one day. She was very invested in Patton’s career when they were younger, she’d even shown him an article about Patton’s dog that inspired Logan to ask for a brown poodle nonstop until he and Itsuki got one. Logan laced up his skates quickly and hopped out on the ice. Yuuko standing on the other side with an encouraging smile. He handed her his glasses and gave her a small smile in return.

“I’ve been practicing this routine a lot.” Logan told her.

Yuuko nodded, she had a careful smile.

Logan skated swiftly to the center of the ice, taking his beginning stance and breathing in one fast breath before letting his arms up and bringing them down gracefully around his head as he turned. Yuuko’s gasp told him that she recognized the set. He knew she would. Logan pushed himself forward, following his arm as it reached out, before he turned to his left and wrapped his arms around himself again. When he reached towards the sky once more he let himself drop to one knee and then fall a little to his side, using the momentum to pick himself up and swing his legs around, he went forward and back again in a figure eight motion before pushing himself up and spinning as many times as he could, it was supposed to be a quad but Logan wasn’t sure he’d gotten enough rotation, no matter, he landed wonderfully and spread his arms out skating back before turning 180 degrees and pushing off again. His arms once again taking a grateful place around him, following his movements with freedom. As he pushed his leg out a little behind him, Logan used that force to push himself up into a quadruple flip. This time he knew he’d made it.

Logan reached his arms out in front of him as if to embrace someone as he skated back before turning once more and performing another jump and a series of ballerina like spins. When the beat came Logan let his arm down and spun himself in place, right let out making a perfect 90 degree angle, he held that for one more beat before dropping slowly down and then putting himself back up, his arms behind his back, still spinning in place when he let up one final time he used that motion to go back on his skate. When he went forward once more he was following his arms, reaching for something the music in his head was calling for, something the music told him he couldn’t have. He skated softly a little bit longer before leaping from one skate to another, then doing it again before falling into a sit-spin that lasted for a couple seconds before standing back up again and turning.

This song had always been a somber one, Logan had never been fond of somber songs until he performed this one. As he did more graceful spins around the rink before once again attempting a quad. As he came back down Logan let his arms guide him, let his longing guide him. Then finally he propelled himself forward gaining enough speed to hop up and spin in the air, then dropping back down only to hop up once more and spin again. He pulled his arms back to his sides as he came down, and spun a bit before lifting them up and stretching out, spinning like a ballerina once again. He continued spinning forward and back, letting himself get wrapped up in the music only he could hear. After repeating his motions a few times he hopped up into a triple lutz and then a triple flip. Now he stood before Yuuko, he reached his hands out and smiled at her before pulling himself back and into a quadruple toe loop and then a triple toe loop right after.

Logan had done it, he finished his quads and now all that was left was his graceful spin that led him up into a few jumps before he spun with his arms above him one last time, bringing them down and crossing them, his head up in the air and his arms triumphant by his chin. The music ended. Logan could now only hear his intense breathing as he held his pose. He felt his cheeks growing hotter and hotter the longer he stood like that. From the side he could hear Yuuko breathing a little hard as well. Logan let his arms down and looked at her, he saw his friend with her hands covering her mouth as small tears pricked her eyes.

“That was,” Yuuko slammed her hands down. “Incredible!! Oh my god you’re amazing Logan!! That was practically a perfect copy of Patton’s routine!!”

Logan skated toward her and smiled.

“I thought you’d be too upset to skate again.”

“I was.” Logan admitted. “But I don’t know. My mother said she wants me to find what makes me happy, maybe I can get back the happiness that skating used to bring me. Remember copying all of his routines in the past? It had been so much fun for the two of us, I just wonder if I can find that again.”

“I know you will Logan, even if you think you won’t.” Yuuko told him, her hand softly rested on his.

“Wow you got really fat!”

Logan was startled, he hopped back a bit at the aggressive voice before seeing Yuuko’s annoyed expression.

“You’re retiring?!”

“Have you really never had a girlfriend?!”

Logan didn’t know who on Earth was asking him these questions but when he saw three little faces try to poke above the barrier he rolled his eyes and skated back over to them.

“Logan, my girls, Axel, Lutz, and Loop.” Yuuko said, her exhaustion came back quickly. “They’ve grown quite a bit since you’ve been gone.”

“They sure have.” Logan said, looking down at them.

“They’re getting rude.” Yuuko pouted a bit. “They’re sort of groupies now though.”

“They’re your biggest fans.” Logan recognized that voice. Nishigori, Yuuko’s husband, walked over to the group and gave Logan a pat on the head. “You can come by the rink any time to practice!”

“I think I might take you up on that.” Logan said.

“Yay!” One of the triplets giggled.

“You got this Logan come on you can’t quit now!” Another told him forcefully.

. . . 1 . . .

“Ugh!” Logan was awakened by a rather gruff voice at his bedroom door, the light had barely shown through his windows. “Logan you were out late last night I didn’t get to see you!”

“Go away Minako I need to sleep!” Logan shouted at his door.

“Nooooo!” She yelled back. “Let me in!”

“If I don’t get the optimal amount of sleep I will be distrubed all day now please leave me alone!”

“You didn’t even see who the winner of the grand prix was! Ya know, the winner of the season you didn’t qualify for!” Minako said through the small crack between his door and its frame.

“Minako please go away.” Logan begged.

“It was your boyfriend Patton!” She cooed.

“Yeah no shit! That’s kind of how he works!” Logan yelled. “Winner of everything.”

“You know sometimes,” Logan heard Minako slump against his door. “I can’t tell if you have a crush on him or you hate him!”

Logan didn’t give that a response. He knew the answer. And sober Minako did too. Well, he supposed if he let Minako in his room and she saw all of his posters of Patton she might know, but that wasn’t about to happen.

“Maybe you just really wanna hate-fuck him ya know?”

“Minako! Please I will do anything if you just go away!” Logan sat up in his bed and yelled at the door.

“Become a skater again!”

“Anything but that!”

“Boooooo!” She shouted. He could hear her continuing to boo him from the other side of the door until the sound faded and was replaced with a small snoring.

She’s asleep. Logan realized, laying back down in his bed. He didn’t get back to his state of sleep from before, but he did spend a nice relaxing time staring around at his posters. Maybe he was never going to see Patton again, and he knew that was perfectly fine. He just didn’t know why on Earth that lump in his throat was aching so bad at the thought.

When Logan’s alarm stirred him he finally got out of bed and started getting himself ready for the day. He’d promised his father he’d help around the bathhouse, and one look out the window told him it had snowed-strange but not completely insane-and shovelling was going to be his main priority. After bundling himself up well Logan opened the door and was surprised when Minako’s body slammed into the floor, until he remembered earlier that morning.

“Ow! That really hurt!” She complained.

“That’s what you get for waking me up so early.” Logan told her.

“Hey I have a hangover too.” She said, rubbing her head.

“Oh who could have guessed that would happen?” Logan said in mock surprise.

“Ha ha, whatever.” She crossed her arms. “You look like a character in a disney original Christmas movie so shut up.”

“For your information I’m dressed like this because it snowed and someone needs to do work around here.”

“For your information,” She mimicked Logan terribly. “I don’t care. Get me an aspirin please?”

“Maybe.” Logan said, walking past her.

“Ooo wait, change that to an orange soda with crushed aspirin around the rim of the glass.”

“Definitely not.” Logan gave her a little wave and continued walking into the main area.

The snow had piled high against the doors and Logan had to tromp through it to get to the shack where the shovels were stored. Once he retrieved it he started shovelling along the path from the shack to his home and then made it halfway to the door that led the family into the bathhouse when he was summoned by his friend yet again.

“Logan Katsuki get your ass over here now!!! What the hell is this!?!” She screeched.

Logan turned to Minako who was racing toward him, her phone out.

“What’s what?” Logan asked.

Minako stopped in front of him, shoving the phone to his face and pressing the center of the screen. Logan watched with wide, startled eyes as he saw himself from yesterday, skating at the rink for Yuuko. He watched himself move for a second longer in shock before snatching the phone from Minako and scrolling through all the media she had.

“You thought you could go viral without me you shit weasel!?! She shouted. “You said you were done skating what the hell!!”

“I-I am!! I don’t know how this happened!! I didn’t do this!!”

“What do you mean you didn’t do this! That’s you skating right there! Getting millions of likes and shares!”

“I know that Minako, I mean I didn’t post this-wait did you say millions?” Logan deadpanned.

“Yes! Can’t you read smart ass? That right there says millions.”

“In a few hours?” Logan asked, startled.

“I’m sorry do you not know how insane the people that watch figure skating are?!”

“It’s been a while okay!”

“Arghhh!” She huffed in frustration. “I can’t believe you!! How on Earth did you even manage this!? Oh wait, hang on I’m getting a call.”

Logan watched as Minako plucked the phone out of his hand before he could read the caller ID. She answered it and listened for a few seconds before sighing and handing the phone to Logan.

“I’m so sorry!!” Yuuko’s voice could be heard over the phone.

“What?” Logan asked.

“I didn’t know the girls had taken a video and when I woke up this morning my twitter had blown up! They posted the video they took of you skating last night! I had no idea!” She said apologetically.

“Well that’s one of my questions answered.” Logan sighed.

“Logan!!”

Oh what is it now, he thought, exhaustion already setting in and the day had barely started.

“C’mere baby I need you to help me with this.” His mother yelled from the bath house.

“Coming!” Logan said.

“Lo I swear we’re gonna take it down!” Yuuko assured him.

“As if! I bet there’s already been like fifty fancams of him made!” Minako cackled. “Hold on.” She grabbed her phone back again and said a goodbye to Yuuko before typing away quickly.

Logan shuddered as he made his way to his mom. Once inside the warm bath house he took his large coat off and walked to his mother at the front desk.

“Oh dear I need you to read this amount for me.”

“Mom just get reader’s glasses.” Logan sighed.

“No! Unlike you, glasses make me look old.” She snapped.

“They do not.”

“Yes they do! You look fetching in glasses baby, but I just look like a grandma!”

“You could be a grandma.” Logan told her.

“Please, your sister smokes and you’re gay and hate kids. I could never be a grandma.” She said, moving aside so Logan could punch in the numbers.

“I don’t hate kids.” Logan defended.

“The only small thing that you would ever take care of is a dog! And dogs do not count as kids.” His mother told him. “Logan do you remember telling me when you were a teenager that you would drop-kick a baby?”

“Mom that was one time and I never actually did it.”

“No but you thought about it! I could see it in your eyes!” She said, waving her hands spookily. “You were also going through your emo phase. Remember that?”

“Yes, yes I do.” Logan sighed.

He stepped out of the way of his mom and walked to the other side of the counter, looking at the newspaper until he heard a dog’s barking to his right.

“Oh speaking of which!” She laughed.

Logan turned to see a brown poodle bounding its way toward him until it knocked Logan on his but and placed its paws on his chest, licking Logan’s face excitedly.

“There’s a man here with a dog! He’s going to be staying with us for a while now.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” Logan said, finally getting the dog to stop licking him and sitting up. “You look so familiar.”

“He looks just like our old Patty don’t he!” Logan’s dad yelled from his place at the table, his dad’s friends also sat around, all of them appeared to be playing a card game. Logan always thought it strange that these old men bet so early.

“Yeah.” Logan said, grabbing the sides of the dog’s face and looking at it. “But, it’s something else. Wait a minute!”

“Now you’ll find this funny,” Logan’s mom started up again. “Her owner looks just like that man on the posters you have in your room.”

“Wha-what?!” Logan exclaimed.

“Yes yes, he’s in the hot springs now if you’d like to go see for yourself.”

Logan had never bolted up so fast in his life. The blood rushed to his head painfully but he found he didn’t quite care. His legs moved him through the men’s shower area, though he slipped quite a bit on the wet floors, and Logan threw open the doors to the hot spring so fast he was momentarily worried he’d broken something. When Logan’s face hit the crisp cold he whipped at his glasses trying his hardest to get the fog off, and when he looked over, he swore he was still dreaming. This wasn’t happening.

“Pa-Patton?” Logan stammered. “What?”

“Hello Logan.” The man stood, his half-naked body came out of the water and he extended an arm in Logan’s direction. “Starting today, I’ll be your new coach. You’re going to get to the Grand Prix final. And you’re going to win gold.”

“What!?!”

Patton Nikiforov, the man of a million surprises, had just done it once again. And possibly broken Logan in the process.

#yuri on ice au #yoi au #sanders sides #logicality #ts logan #ts patton #ts virgil

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