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galactic-magick · 4 years ago

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As Long As I’m With You: Agnes/Agatha Harkness x Reader

Request: Hi, can you please do where Agnes (a villain) saves fem reader's life because she has feelings for her? In the end they end up together // also took some ideas from this request

Summary: You’re accused of witchcraft in your village, and a mysterious beautiful witch comes to your aid.

Words: 2200+

Warnings: fem reader, Agatha is low key evil so she hurts some people, a swear word, reader has an angsty past

Author’s Notes: This can be read as either a standalone fic or as a prequel to my other fic “Spell Practice.” I took quite a lot of creative liberty with this, hopefully that’s alright. Also disclaimer I am in no way a history expert so even though this is set in like the 1500s-1600s it’s probably very inaccurate, but it’s fanfic so anything goes right?

Taglist: @nyx-aira @midnight-lestrange @thestrangeundoing @thegayances @sleep-deprived-athlete @dr-robotnik-said-hella @fallingfor-fics @p-nymph @thelanawinterrs @sunproud (if your tag didn’t work it might be bc your blog isn’t searchable so make sure that’s on so you’re notified of future fics!)

You had no idea how much your life would change when you left your house that day.

It started out with a simple run to the market and the garden to get what you needed for supper that night, a job that almost always falls to you. You don’t necessarily mind getting away from your family and talking to some people in town, but it’s clear that your family doesn’t want you in the house as much as possible either.

It’s gotten to the point where they’re just looking for a reason to get rid of you. You’re a disappointment, after all. You refuse to marry in order to help your family’s status, even though you’ve gotten a couple offers. You counter your parent’s rules and ideas every chance you get, no matter how much they tell you you’re crazy. They belittle you constantly, saying your dreams are worth nothing and you’ll have to be dependent on them forever if you never submit to the role in society you’re supposed to.

Obviously bullying you out of their lives wasn’t working, so they’ve moved on to spreading rumors about you and setting you up for crimes. None have worked yet, of course, but every day you fear they’ll get too close.

Until you get burned at the stake, though, they’ve given you basically every responsibility of the house. You do all the shopping, cooking, and farming, as well as taking care of your younger siblings. You wonder what they’d do without you, despite how much they seem to want you gone.

As you’re buying a few crops and eggs from your neighbors, you swear you see something move. You turn around and see a little boy floating in the air, screaming.

You drop everything in your arms and reach up to him, trying to grab him and help him down, but he keeps flailing, and his screams start to feel directed at you.

“Hey! It’s okay! Let me help you!” you hold your hand up, speaking as calmly as you can. “I’m not going to hurt you,”

“WITCH!” a man yells as he sees you. “SHE’S A WITCH!”

Everyone around turns and watches you.

“No! No! I’m not the one doing this! I’m trying to help!”

“Let him down and maybe we’ll wait to kill you til tomorrow!” someone else demands.

A couple people march towards you to grab you, and all you can think to do is start running.

You race out of the center of town into the trees, and about five men chase after you. You keep going until it feels like your legs are going to give out and you can barely breathe, but they keep coming.

“Please! Please stop! It wasn’t me I swear!” you cry. “I don’t know what was happening!”

“Shut up, girl,” one grunts. “Your father always said there was something wrong with you, makes sense that you’re a witch!”

“What’s so wrong about witches?” a female voice calls.

You and the men spin around, trying to figure out where it came from.

Before you can blink there’s purple smoke surrounding you, and the men are thrown against the trees. They’re knocked unconscious instantly, but you remain standing and untouched.

“Who are you?” you ask, your voice quivering.

“Don’t be afraid, my dear,” the smoke starts to fade and you can make out her silhouette, then eventually her face. “I’m here to help you,”

She’s beautiful. You’ve never seen someone that immediately feels so friendly, so different in all the best ways.

“It’s alright to stare, I know I’m quite a sight,” she laughs. “I’m Agatha,”

“I’m Y/N,”

“Ah, yes, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard of you,” she smiles. “Everyone in the village can barely stand you,”

“Thanks…?” you’re not sure how to respond, especially after all that just happened. “Wait, if you live in my village, why have I never seen you? And how come you’ve never gotten caught using magic?”

“Memory spells, of course,” she shrugs. “Now, let’s get you somewhere safe, alright?”

You nod, and she wraps an arm around you. She takes you deep into the forest until you reach a small house, the glimmer of the fire peering through the windows.

You settle down on a chair while she makes some tea and food. She offers you a blanket and hands you the cup and plate, sitting down across from you.

“So how long have you been practicing magic?” she asks.

“Oh…I…well actually I don’t know how to use any magic,”

“Really? Why were the witch hunters after you then?”

“I was set up, I think,” you say. “There was a little boy floating in the air, and since I was near him they thought it was me. But I wasn’t doing anything,”

“Well,” Agatha sips her tea. “Sometimes magic can manifest itself subconsciously. Maybe you were doing it but didn’t realize it. It’s quite common,”

“But…how would I have magical powers? I’ve never learned it from anywhere,”

“Some people are just born with the gift,” she grins.

You exhale, thinking over what she said. Could it be true? You’ve been a witch all your life without even knowing it?

That night, Agatha conjures another bed for you to sleep in. But even though she made it as comfortable as she possibly could, you can’t get a wink of sleep.

You lift off the blanket and wrap it tightly around you, getting up slowly and quietly. You walk outside and sit against a tree, looking up at the stars.

You’re sure your family has heard the news by now. Their disappointment of a daughter is finally gone, accused of witchcraft. It seems that the foreseeable future will be spent with Agatha, the only safe person you have.

You wonder just how much she already knows about you. She mentioned she’s heard people gossiping about you all the time in town, yet she still saved you after hearing all those negative things.

Why is that?

“Can’t sleep?”

You jump at her voice, and she chuckles a bit at your reaction.

“Sorry,” you sigh. “I just have a lot to think about from today, I guess,”

“No worries,” she sits down beside you. “So do I,”

“Agatha,” you say. “Why did you save me?”

“Us witches have to stick together. I saw you were in trouble, so I saved you,”

“But you knew, didn’t you? You’ve known I was a witch long before this, didn’t you?”

“I had my suspicions,” she agrees. “Whenever I heard people talk about you, I figured you weren’t like everyone else. But I didn’t know for sure until today,”

“I wish you had taken me before,” you huff, a few tears falling down your cheeks. “It’s been so bad, Agatha, feeling worthless just because you’re different, everyone hates you…”

She pulls you into her shoulder, letting you cry into it, “I know, dear, I know,”

It takes you a while to come to terms with your potential powers, but as soon as you’re ready Agatha begins to teach you how to use them. You spend your days studying her spell books and practicing simple spells, most of which you fail at.

She encourages you as much as possible, explaining to you that magic is not something you can learn overnight, sometimes not even over years. She tells you that she’s actually thousands of years old (a surprise to you due to her stunning looks) and she’s been practicing for much of that time, and there’s still some spells she hasn’t mastered.

Your impatience still gets the better of you most days, though. You can’t imagine waiting several centuries to get something to work, if you get it to work at all.

One day you’re sitting at the table, trying out a simple transfiguration spell. You wave your hand repeatedly at a potato, hoping to turn it into an apple. It doesn’t even wobble, not even a single spark, but you’ve been sitting here for hours and don’t want to give up just yet.

You nearly fall asleep from exhaustion when all of a sudden it happens. It works.

There’s an apple in front of you. Not a potato, an apple.

“Holy shit!” you scream. “Agatha! I did it!”

You run over to her and point at your small accomplishment.

“Look at you go, darling!” she smiles, hugging you. “At this rate you’ll be changing rocks into cats before you’re 200!”

You laugh, “Oh come on, this is literally just one of the beginner spells,”

“So what? That’s where everybody starts,”

You break out in giddy excitement again, jumping up and down a bit and looking back and forth just to make sure your creation is still there.

Without thinking, you kiss Agatha quickly on the lips.

She stares at you, mouth open.

Before you can apologize, she grabs your face and kisses you hard. She’s everything you’d imagined and more, soft and warm but with a spark you can’t ignore.

When you finally break apart, her hands linger, brushing across your features and in your hair, “I’ve been waiting to do that,”

Things change after that, but in only the best ways.

Agatha isn’t just your mentor anymore, the only friend who came to your aid.

She’s your everything now, a soulmate, your home.

You tell her all about your life, and she tells you all about hers. As she has significantly more stories to tell, you’ll fall asleep many nights to her whispering all the legends she lived through that no one else knows are true.

She makes you laugh every day, and makes sure you always know how much she cares about you. There’s only so much you can do in your hidden home in the woods, but with magic the possibilities are endless and she’s never short of romantic ideas.

Tonight you find yourself lying your head in her lap while she plays with your hair, close to the fire so you can watch the little shows she creates with the flames.

“What about love?” you ask.

“What about it?”

“Out of all the stories you’ve told me, you’ve never mentioned being in love before,”

“Well,” she sighs. “That’s because I haven’t been,”

“Why not?”

“It’s just never appealed to me,” she says. “Until I met you,”

“Oh,” you grin, looking up at her.

She leans down to kiss you, but you’re broken apart by a loud noise outside.

You shoot up, looking at Agatha in pure panic. Your heart races as the noise gets louder and louder, eventually leading to shouting and knocks at the door.

“WE FOUND YOU!” a booming voice yells.

“Aggie?” you whisper. Everything crumbles around you. Your perfect, happy life, now about to be stolen from you. You have no idea how they found you, if you are about to be dead, if you’ll be able to defend yourself at all.

She kisses you and stands up, “Stay here. I’ll take care of it,”

With a fling of her fingers the door flies open, and the torches the townspeople are holding are burnt out. She smirks, purple smoke covering the area as she goes through them one by one, some just throwing to the side and others suffering a painful death.

She turns their own weapons against them, their own people against them, and makes them regret everything they’ve ever done.

When she returns to you, you’re still in so much shock and panic you couldn’t tell exactly what she was doing.

“Did you…kill all of them?”

“They got what they deserved for threatening us,” she says nonchalantly. “But we’re not safe here anymore. It’s time to find somewhere new,”

“Okay,” you nod as she pulls you against her. “As long as I’m with you,”

“I’ll always protect you, even when you learn enough to protect yourself,” she kisses your forehead. “Always and forever,”

APPROXIMATELY FOUR CENTURIES LATER

“I’m back, darling!” Agatha calls, shutting the door behind her.

“How’d it go?” you run to her, grabbing her hands.

“Splendid, that poor Wanda already loves her new neighbor!”

“Wow,” you giggle. “You know I must say, this whole living in a sitcom thing isn’t that bad, you look gorgeous in that 50s dress,”

“Oh darling, somehow after all this time you still flatter me,” she pretends to fan herself. “I have to go back over real quick, alright? Gotta give her this spicy magazine,” she holds her hand up in the air and magically forms one in her grasp.

“Ah! Be sure to get some ideas to use on me when you get back,” she laugh.

“Oh I will honey,” she winks, kissing you before going out the door.

You settle on the couch, looking around at your home. Out of all the places you’ve moved to together, this was by far the weirdest. There’s no color, and everyone besides you and Agatha and Wanda are under some kind of mind control.

You never imagined that day all those years ago would bring you here, spending your life with a beautiful witch and being her partner in all things, even sinister ones. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, and you know this strange town will only bring you more opportunities to practice your magic and help Agatha with her plans.

#agatha harkness #wandavision #agatha harkness x reader #agnes x reader #wandavision spoilers #wandavision x reader

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dinopopduck · 4 years ago

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Ezekiel Only Being Unaffected By Certain Kinds of Magic

Let’s just start with me saying this isn’t exactly a new theory. It’s the demigod thing, and it’s a fairly popular one. If you haven’t heard of this headcannon, I put as much as I can find here. If you have, I found a bunch of new stuff that I haven’t seen anyone else mention, so reading this isn’t a complete waste of your time, I hope.

I tried to keep this from becoming wordy, but it got really long anyway, because there was a lot to talk about here.

Ezekiel being unaffected by magic is sort of an ongoing thing in the show. He is influenced by it much of the time, such as by Santa’s Hat, Pan’s Flute, Prospero’s spell, lycanthropy, etc. When it comes to the stuff he was seemingly completely immune to, there is one link that connects them all.

Apple of Discord: Everybody knows this one. The Apple is a Greek artifact, meant to turn you into the worst version of yourself, and Ezekiel was only one completely unaffected. It’s blamed on “he’s already the worst version of himself” or whatever.

Zeus Lightning Bolt: the episode where Ezekiel ends up decked out in Greek armor, and is sent to pick up Zeus’ Lightning Bolt, which was freaking out and zapping everywhere. He picks it up just fine, and he’s then able to hand it off to Flynn. It may have been purely because of the Greek armor he was wearing, but Flynn did not seem so sure about that working.

Cindy’s Love Potion: Ezekiel is able to be near the potion without becoming obsessed with Cindy. At first, it’s blamed on him being obsessed with himself, then later Jacob tells Ezekiel that he was already in love with Cindy. It was an obsession, not a love, potion you literally spent the episode proving that blah blah, he didn’t even recognize her at first blah blah, anyway, I have a better reason.

There are two Greek mentions in this episode. First, the potion project itself is called Project Aphrodite, a Greek goddess. Second, the sunflowers; when asked, Jenkins mentions how sunflowers are a Greek symbol of unrequited love. In addition, “love” potions may have originated in Greece, or at the very least, were common enough to have multiple sites claim that, lol. At the end of the season, where each librarian uses their gifts to turn Apep mortal, this greek potion is what Ezekiel ends up using.

See a pattern here? Everything that he was completely unaffected by was Greek in some way. So, he has an immunity to these kinds of artifacts, but why? I vote demigod.

Anyway, moving on.

Here’s some magic he could have been immune to, or could not have been. Its pretty debatable.

Fortuna: Technically a Roman Goddess, but the show does acknowledge how similar they are to Greek Gods. He may have been affected by the spell, but broke out of it pretty quick. Some think he may not been affected at all; slot machines aren’t exactly fair, especially in a casino that exists to cheat completely. As for Ezekiel getting so upset over losing, what he says, “Not the guy that loses, I’m the guy that wins” sounds very similar to what he was saying in Point of Salvation, but that’s a whole nother topic.

Alternately, he was affected and this point shouldn’t be here. I don’t know, I’m not the writers.

Libris Fabula: He was a little bit affected, just far less than the others, as he acted pretty much the same. He did get a barely noticeable clothing change, became luckier than normal, and was just able to cast a spell for some reason? Speaking out that spell, it froze the guy, and a certain Greek God does have the ability to put people to sleep. Not really the same thing, but worth thinking about. Maybe. More on that later.

Most people think he was immune, but he could have just been similar enough to the character he was portraying that he didn’t need to change a whole lot.

These ones are barely worth mentioning, because have other reasonable (though I guess your definition of reasonable may be different from mine) explanations, but you could see them as magic immunity as well:

Silver Screen: Ezekiel gets into character the least, while Cassandra and Jacob are out singing and calling people by their character names. Maybe less affected, maybe just a spoilsport. Probably the last one.

Point of Salvation: Was the only one able to remember previous loops. Since they were in a video game, it’s explained that since he was the first through the door, he became the player while everyone else became NPCs. I mean, sure.

Christmas Thief: Saint of Thieves only used his truth telly power on Ezekiel’s mother, not him. Ezekiel did not feel obligated to say anything. Could just be that the guy wasn’t talking to Ezekiel. Or, earlier in that episode Ezekiel tells his mother he doesn’t steal anymore (at least for anything other than the Library, I assume, cause he still kinda does) and therefor that made him immune to the spell, since it only works on thieves.

Image of an Image: Both Cassandra and Ezekiel got their pictures taken, and Cassandra was the only one affected by the transfer spell. However, Ezekiel wasn’t one of the “chosen ones” because he snuck in, and jumped in front of the camera while Eve (one of the “chosen ones”, who was later able to be affected) turned away. Either that, or he just didn’t have time to feel the effect, since his picture was taken after Cassandra’s, and Eve’s was placed in manually.

That’s all the possible instances of magic immunity I could think of.

Next, we have some other stuff that is relevant to this point, but wasn’t necessarily artifact/magic immunity.

Prophecy Cube: Created by the Oracle of Delphi, who is from Greek mythology. This isn’t about whether Ezekiel was affected by something, as he was still able to use the prophecy glass/get stuck in the cube. Rather, it’s about the Zeus Challenge in the cube. They probably would have died in there, but luckily, Ezekiel had just happened to steal, and keep on him, the exact thing they needed to get through– a bunch of golden coins, and a prophecy that ensures at least one coin can’t be destroyed. Luck? Prophecy? Divine Intervention? Plot convenience? Okay its probably the last one but STILL

Also, Ezekiel getting pissed at Zeus.

Zeus’s Bolt (again?): There is a promo image I think for season 4? that has each of the Librarians holding their tools. Jacob had his axe, Cassandra had a notebook, Flynn had Excalibur, all normal, except for Eve and Ezekiel. Eve had this big staff thing I didn’t recognize, and Ezekiel had Zeus’ Bolt for some reason?

Lightning, just, in general: If there is wild electricity in an episode, Ezekiel is probably around.

Examples:

City of Light: Gets shocked and knocked backwards into Jacob by a very electrified fence, gets up right afterwards and is fine.

Broken Staff: The Zeus Bolt thing, you get it.

Image of an Image: Ezekiel electrocutes Jacob. Jacob was not really fine. He lived, though.

Point of Salvation: Ezekiel electrocutes Jacob part 2 Electric Boogaloo, but this time on purpose. He was not fine. He died. But don’t worry, he lived.

Self-Fulfilling Prophecy: Mentioned a little bit above, Ezekiel, Jacob, and a student get stuck in the Zeus Challenge, and Ezekiel uses some coins he just so happened to steal recently. Throwing them on tiles shows whether or not lightning will strike if it was stepped on. Seriously, why is it ALWAYS Jacob?

The Dark Secret: Ezekiel is the one sent to wrap a cord around a lightning rod constantly being struck by lighting. “Why am I bloody doing this”, he asks? I mean, Zeus probably isn’t going to kill his descendent(?), right?

Werewolves: Have you heard of the Lycaon of Arcadia? It’s a Greek myth. Basically, this dude named Lycaon wants to test how smart and all-knowing Zeus is. To do so, he kills his own son, cooks him, and serves him to Zeus to see if he notices, ya know, no biggie. Zeus was like “wtf man” and brings the son back to life, and turns Lycaon into, you guessed it, a wolf. So, Zeus creates a werewolf of sorts, maybe one of the firsts. In Fangs of Death, Ezekiel just so happens to be the one (main) character to be turned into werewolf. So, if he was a descendant of Zeus, imagine how big of a “fuck you” that was to the god. That all being said, Ezekiel was turned by an Egyptian god, so that might not have been intentional. Also, they may have just been avoiding turning Jacob, because there is already a werewolf named Jacob and they didn't want another Twilight reference in that episode.

Family/Name: Ezekiel is adopted, and his adoptive mother mentions how she took him in off the streets. Because of that, we don’t know who his birth parents are, and whether or not he, or anyone else, knows is unknown. Soooo, we can take some creative liberties as to who his parents might have been.

As for his name, it carries some religious connotations. It should be remembered though, the meanings I’m talking about here are Biblical, not Greek, so again, might mean nothing for this argument. “Ezekiel” is “God’s Strength” or “God will Strengthen”. Jones might also be something like “God is gracious” or “God has favored”, thought different sites say different things. However, I’m pretty sure the name Jones came from his adoptive mother, and apparently Jones is a common last name in Australia. His first name is more relevant, because all of his siblings have themed names; Mercy, Charity, and Honor. So, either his mom named him differently because she knew something we don’t, or he already had the name before she adopted him. Either way, this probably means absolutely nothing. But what are we here for? To analyze a dead show like an English teacher analyzes the color of curtains in an 100 year old text. If it wasn’t for all the other stuff, I probably wouldn’t think about this too much.

Okay. So Greek stuff, lightning, and Zeus himself come up a LOT when it comes to this guy. So is Ezekiel the son of Zeus? Possibly, but a more popular theory is that he’s Zeus’ grandson. Because Zeus’ son just so happens to be Hermes; god of things such as luck, travel, money, trade, and most importantly, thieves. Oh, and animal husbandry/shepherds and sleep, I don’t know how much those apply but I will try.

Time for some comparisons, honestly most of these don’t even need to be explained so I’ll keep it short-ish, cause this shit has gotten way too long already.

Luck: Ezekiel, especially in the first season, likes to rely on luck, and tends to be very lucky in general. Examples where this is mentioned include Fables of Doom and Apple of Discord. “Smarter to be lucky then lucky to be smart!”

Travel: We can assume that he ended up traveling in his previous job (that being heists all over the world) fairly often, even before the Library. Becoming a Librarian with a teleporting door increased that of course.

Money: Steals very high-value items to sell. Also apparently likes to take money from his coworker’s wallets. And probably everyone else’s.

Trade: The aforementioned high-value pieces he steals are traded/sold for money. In Christmas Thief, we find out he kept none of the money or items, giving it away to others who needed it. That kinda fits this category, I think.

Thieves: I really don’t need to explain this. Unless you haven’t seen the show.

Animal Husbandry/Shepherds?: Basically the care of animals. Um, well he doesn’t keep cows or anything, but he has a tendency to “adopt” magical creatures that need help. Stumpy, Nessie Jr., maybe Frankenstein’s Monster as well?

Sleep: I mentioned earlier how Ezekiel froze a guy (not really in an icy way, just couldn’t move) by hitting him with his coin. Hermes is able to send people to sleep with his Caduceus (the snake wand thing). Yeah, it’s not really the same thing, though you could consider being frozen a kind of sleep. He could have just been lucky enough to find a magical coin, and lucky enough to figure out how to use it at the exact right time without even knowing what it did. It’s a stretch either way, really, and was never explained in the episode at all. Yeah, I can't find anything else that fits.

Hermes is considered to be a thief and trickster, and a lot of the things he is god of are Ezekiel’s main occupations. With all those similarities to Hermes, frequent events related to lightning and Zeus related things, and immunity to Greek artifacts, we can conclude that he is perhaps the son of Hermes, taking after his father in abilities and getting visits from grandpa.

Alternatively, his somehow IS Hermes, but I doubt that. He’d probably be way more powerful. He was also able to see the future with Prophecy Glass, which Jenkins claims is impossible for immortals to do (although in that case he was talking about a Prophecy Cube, but close enough). It’s more likely that he is a demigod.

Okay, that is all I can think of that is relevant. I binged the series about two months ago, and have been thinking about this theory. I went ahead and re-watched the episodes that I mentioned in more detail, as well as parts of others that I remebered. The reason I bring this up is because I may have missed things. I did not rewatch a majority of the episodes, more that I looked at a list of episodes on wikipedia and tried to remember what happened in them, watching clips and episodes if I needed to.

The show was cancelled, so we’ll probably never get a confirmation as to who Ezekiels’ birth parents were, and as such, you can’t prove me wrong! That being said, if I got any facts incorrect in this, please tell me so I can fix it. I’m not well versed on Greek Mythology, in fact I know basically nothing, and did the research as I went along. So again, there could be more. This is just what I found in like, less than a day of searching.

Join me next time on “How is Cassandra magical, where’d she get it from? Also, were we ever gonna meet her parents?” And “In the first episode of season 3, Jacob is just able to hit a heavy punching bag of its chain, across the room, at bullet speed, just because of a shift of his wrist, and later in that episode do the same thing to Apep, and it’s just…never addressed or spoken about again? Like wtf man?”

I'm probably not doing that

If you managed to get through all of this, thank you, and I hope this wasn’t too painful to read.

#the librarians #ezekiel jones #greek #hermes #zeus #this took so long #magic #magic immunity #theory #headcannon #demigod #curse of cindy #apple of discord #broken staff

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prongsies · 5 years ago

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Flirt • Remus Lupin

PAIRING: Remus Lupin x Reader

REQUEST: Could I request a Remus x Reader? Reader is a well know witch and member of the order, which is how they met. She’s very suave, casually flirty, basically a female Sirius LOL. She has her sights set on Remus and they have both fallen for eachother but he doesn’t think he’s good enough for her or something to that effect, so he’s dodging all her advances. However, shes pretty bold and persistent. Feel free to take creative liberty!! Thank you!! xx

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood, mild language

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Being personally invited by the infamous Albus Dumbledore to be a member of the newly reformed Order of the Phoenix was an honor that you wouldn’t wish to reject. Being a member of the original Order before it disbanded, you were quite familiar with the risks it puts you in, especially now that you’re a renowned Auror.

“Oh, wow” You breathed out as you entered the household addressed Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Your eyes catch the rows of house-elf heads on the staircase walls, and the thick layer of dust on the furniture and fixtures, “This is a grim old place”

"You have my mother to thank for that" a voice joined you. You looked towards the threshold to what appears to be the kitchen, where Kingsley disappeared into. There stood a man, hair curling around his face, face sculpted by his goatee and the scruff of the rest of his beard growing around it. He offered a hand, "Sirius Black"

"(Y/f/n) (y/l/n)" you introduced, shaking his hand gently.

He walked aside to allow the other members to enter the room, stepping into the space in front of you with a glint in his eyes, "I'm surprised you didn't run at the sight of a mass murderer"

“Falsely-accused” You corrected, catching the smile forming on his face, “Kingsley filled me in on the way here - I do hope the Ministry does something about your case”

“I hope so too” He replied before motioning you to the threshold, allowing you in first as you prepared for the introductions about to come your way.

Everyone was gathered at a long table, all ceasing their conversations to welcome her as she walked in. “Over there are Molly and Arthur Weasley” Sirius stepped beside you, fingers brushing the small of your back while his other hand gestured towards the group of red-heads sitting the farthest. “Those are their children Bill and Charlie - the others are upstairs”

“I believe you’ve met Tonks, Kingsley, and our dearest Snivellus - I mean, Severus” He snickered silently at the glare sent his way, before turning to the last person sitting nearest you - a mousy-haired man with scars littering his face, “and that’s Remus Lupin”

He smiled a tired smile towards you, a handsome look on him, before his eyes darted towards the door where Albus Dumbledore strode in, carrying stacks of parchment in one hand while his other shut the door.

He welcomed you back warmly into the Order, asked how you’ve been after all those years, then proceeded to thank you for even considering rejoining. He proceeded to the main task at hand, assigning the missions, as he distributed the parchments towards all of you.

After the meeting, you were pulled aside by him, wanting to speak to you about private matters concerning the task he gave you. By the time you returned to the dining area, the table was already full of laughter from red-haired children (whom you could only assumed to be the Weasleys) as they watched Tonks morph her face into different animals.

“So (y/n)” Remus started when you chose a seat between him and Sirius, watching you as you started filling your plate. You turn towards him with both eyebrows raised questioningly, “Dumbledore mentioned you were in the first Order - how come I’ve never seen you before?”

“Oh, I was in between Auror training and Order missions then” You explained, taking your time to drink for your goblet, “I only returned to the headquarters to report back to Dumbledore and receive my next task - although a handsome man like you isn’t necessarily hard to miss”

“You’re clearly mistaken-”

“Not a chance!” You exclaimed, suddenly gaining the confidence as you straightened in your seat, “I remember you at Hogwarts before - a year above me. Always tucked in the corner of the library, you were, writing like you’re running out of time”

“An admirer” Sirius piped in, grinning.

“Clearly”

“How about me, though, (y/n)?” Sirius asked, playfully nudging your shoulder, “Did you happen to keep my devilishly handsome face in mind?”

“Eh,” You shrugged, “You have a really common face”

This erupted laughter from Sirius and Remus, and apparently from Bill too who had been watching the exchange in amusement.

As dinner concluded, you stayed behind to help Molly with the dishes, engaging in a conversation about the original Order where you’ve worked with her late brothers Fabian and Gideon Prewett. Growing fond of you immediately, she insisted you stay the night, not wanting you to leave the house alone especially with how dark it is outside.

Tired from your trip, you thanked her with a soft hug and a kind smile, before bidding the others good bye and retreating towards your temporary room for a good night’s rest.

___

Remus couldn’t explain the flutter in his stomach upon seeing you the next morning, hair unkept as you tightened the knots on your robe. It was far too early more, the sun barely up as you joined him in the kitchen, watching as he cooked breakfast for everyone.

“Smells amazing” You cooed as the scent of eggs and sausages filled your senses, “Merlin, what can’t you do, Remus Lupin?”

“Be a normal person, I suppose” He replied, giving you a half-hearted smile and a chuckle to indicate that he was joking.

You were aware of his lycanthropy - it seemed everyone in the Ministry of Magic knew about it, after a student’s parent in Hogwarts had let it slip (Of course Remus knew who it could be, but he didn’t wish to give a shit about it anymore).

Turning back towards you, confused of your silence when he noticed your face softening. He immediately regretted making such a joke that could ruin the mood, but he was pleasantly surprised when you grinned at him.

“Who wants to be normal anyway?” You asked, making a move to wrap an arm around his and bring him closer. Seeing you smiling up at him made it impossible for him to fight his own grin back, his cheeks almost hurting. “Normal is boring - and you, Remus Lupin, are far from boring”

With that, you released him from your grip, greeting Molly Weasley good morning as she shooed the two of you away from the kitchen, wanting to continue cooking on her own.

As everyone descended the stairs one by one, chatting happily among themselves as they ate their breakfasts, you found yourself caught in a conversation with Fred and George Weasley, who were more than happy to show you their inventions until Molly interrupted them by giving them the task of cleaning out one of the rooms.

You, however, have been convinced by Molly to stay at least until the childrens’ start of term, clearly loving having you around the house. Although hesitant, you agreed, roping Remus along to accompany you to Diagon Alley so you could purchase some extra supplies since you’ll be an extra head in the house.

He walked alongside you the whole time, keeping his distance yet allowing his fingers to brush your knuckles as your arms swayed. While he was busy, you couldn’t help but marvel at his beauty - eyes scanning over each scar that has silvered with age. They were a story of bravery, as you believed, how brave he is to conquer everyday despite his illness.

Catching you staring up at him, he couldn’t help but blush but he soon turned his face away from you, walking ahead and leaving you in the middle of the alley.

___

Eventually, your days in Grimmauld Place turned into weeks, and before you knew it, it was the night before you were to set out on your mission. To say you were nervous is an understatement, mainly because you’d be carrying out the most crucial of the missions Dumbledore had assigned - a mission that should lay out the foundations for the ones that should follow.

Being an Auror poses more risks as well, since there’s a high chance you’ve been the cause of many of the Death Eaters’ family’s imprisonment - and believe me when I say they can hold a deep grudge.

You found yourself unable to sleep, thoughts plaguing your mind about what may happen to you. You pushed your blanket away from you, putting on your slippers are you tried to go down the stairs as quietly as you can - until a floorboard creaked loudly underneath you.

“Well, that proved useless” You muttered under your breath before descending in a normal fashion. A chuckle sounded from behind you, startling you to the point where you’ve pulled out your wand from your pocket, aiming it towards the source.

It was Remus, watching you in amusement as you scoffed in his direction. Hiding your wand back into your robe, you continued your journey towards the kitchen, ignoring him as he mumbled an apology under his breath.

“I’m surprised you’re not flirting with me” He said, still watching you as you cast a silencing charm on the kettle so it wouldn’t make any noise and wake anyone.

Placing it over the heat, you turned towards Remus who was leaning against the table, eyes studying you as you placed two mugs beside him.

“I’m surprised you recognized flirting” You quipped, raising an eyebrow at him as he stared back at you with a smirk, “from how the last weeks had gone, you’ve been nothing but avoidant”

“You know, you’re very straight-forward” He strayed away from the topic, moving closer towards you until you’re shoulder to shoulder.

“Life’s too short not to say what you want”

“You remind me of Sirius far too much”

“As Molly had also said”

“Why don’t you pursue him instead?”

“Because I like you” You turned to him, a smile on your face as you stared up at him, seeing doubt cloud his eyes, but you were quick to place a hand on him in reassurance, “I like you - not Sirius, not... anyone else. You. It’s not that hard to understand”

“You don’t even know me” He mumbled, looking away, “I’m a monster - I’m a monster and I-”

“You’re not a monster - hey, look at me” You stepped in front of him, taking ahold both his cheeks so he meets your eyes again, “You’re not a monster. You’ve never been one and you never will be one. You’re Remus Lupin - a kind, generous man who gives as much as he can give. You’re adorably grumpy in the mrnings but you try to smile nonetheless, you snore even when you nap”

He chuckled at that, hands now coming up to cup your forearm as he relaxed into you.

“You’ve got an immense love for everyone around you - and a special and more intense kind of love for chocolate. You’re a fierce and selfless friend, and it’s an absolute honor that I’m allowed to even look at you every single day”

Remus was almost teary as you concluded your statement, his hands falling onto your waist as he looked at you with so much trust it made your heard want to burst out of your chest. He started leaning in, eyes closed, lips brushing yours softly - just a little more.

Until he opened his eyes. He pulled away, a look flashing in his orbs as he blinked a few times before he pulled away, body rigid. He stepped away from you as if you had burnt him, distancing himself to the point where he’s practically standing across the room. And without another word, he left, leaving you in the silence of the kitchen.

___

The ticking of the clock has been bothering Remus for ages as he sat on an armchair near the entrance, foot tapping against the floor in anticipation for your arrival. It had been more than a month since you left for your mission - which lasted longer than it should’ve.

No one had updates from you in fear of being exposed, and well, in that time span, guilt had bubbled into Remus’ stomach. You didn’t really leave off in good terms, since Remus walked out on you that night.

The morning after, you ignored him as you bid everyone farewell, taking your time with the Weasley children who seemed to grow very close to you.

Shouts echoed through the entrance hallway as the door slammed open. It was Kingsley, holding you up as you coughed out blood. Sirius was the first down the stairs, followed by Arthur who immediately screamed out for Molly’s aid.

With Remus’ help you were placed gently onto the sofa, wincing as you applied pressure over the wound that had continued bleeding.

“What happened?” Remus asked, turning to Kingsley whose robes were damp with blood, “Does Dumbledore know? Does-”

“He knows” Kingsley said, managing to remain calm as everyone fussed around you - Sirius coming back from the kitchen with a glass of water while Arthur sends a message out to the rest of the Order members. “She-she managed to do it but there were a tad bit of complications”

“Tad bit?!” Remus exclaimed, “How is- how is this a tad bid?! She’s bleeding out for Merlin’s sake-”

“Remus” Your voice called out.

His features immediately soften as he turned to you, seeing you beckoning him over as Molly finished up tending to you. Everyone understood to leave you two alone, all of them disappearing into the dining area to talk as they wait for Dumbledore to arrive.

“Are you alright?”

“I’ve been better” You chuckled, wincing when you tried to straighten up. “Might’ve ran into a few snatchers on the way back, it’s nothing serious really”

“I was so worried about you” He mumbled after a few beats of silence, kneeling down to be at eye level with you as he held both your hands. “We didn’t- we didn’t really left things at the right foot”

“Well, you did embarrass me by leaving me in the middle of the kitchen” You teased, smiling when you see the faint blush forming on his cheeks, “But now that I think about it I might have come off a bit strong. I apologize, it certainly won’t happen again”

“No! I mean- I mean, no please don’t stop” He turned even redder.

You stared at him, a smirk forming on your lips, “You like it when I flirt with you, don’t you?”

“Yes” He shamefully admitted, biting back the grin forming on his lips, “Yes, I do”

“Well, you could’ve said something earlier before I set out on a mission!” You laughed, wincing again at the pain in your stomach, “I thought we would end up avoiding each other awkwardly for eternity after this”

“well, we could if you want”

“Sod off, Remus”

“I know it’s the wrong time to ask you this, with you in that state and the war going on” He started, his grip on your hand tightening, “But I’d really love it if we could start over? Maybe go on a few dates?”

“And fuck?” You suggested playfully, earning a laugh from him.

“And fuck” He added, nodding.

“Well, then,” You leaned down to give him a gentle peck on his cheek, “I’d love that Remus Lupin”

#remus lupin #remus lupin imagines #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagines #marauders #marauders imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader

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harringtonstudios · 5 years ago

Text

best friend’s ex.

plot: he’s your best friend’s ex and you should stay away.

A/N: i wrote this in one sitting and it’s very long <3 took some creative liberty here so imagine 2020!kells but he hasn’t made it just quite yet in the industry. this is heavily based off the song release tonight with blackbear so enjoy (maybe while listening!)

masterlist!

The circles in New York are different than the ones in Los Angeles. There’s a hint of familiarity in the New York circles, everyone seems to know each other connected by one person or a distant story of that one night the whole crowd tripped on molly. It’s dizzying, intricately knowing every single person backstage or at some club without recognizing them exactly.

You haven’t gotten used to the life, not yet acclimated with the high-fives and looks thrown your way at a party, or the nameless phone numbers crowding your text messages. It’s all new, fun and exciting and you have no one to thank but your best friend.

She’s made for this life, for the late nights and the rushes, the sticky floors and glittery lipgloss. This is her environment, where she thrives, and sometimes when you look at her in the club, necklaces shining with the overhead lights, you find it hard to connect this Domi to the one who you’ve seen crying on your bedroom floor after watching a despairing animal shelter commercial. But then she throws you a grin, crowds close, drapes her arm over your shoulder, and it just makes sense.

It’s been years of friendship, ever since you two met at freshman orientation for college. Her roommate was terrible, and more often than not, she’d be camping out on your twin-sized bed, offering you bites of her snacks in exchange for a safe haven. You both hadn’t really been into the party scene at school, too busy scrambling for reports and fibbing results for the endless lab sessions.

Domi graduated a semester early, spent an entire summer taking accelerated classes so she could go fly off to New York right before the new year started. That’s when things seemed to change. You’d been upset with her, hints of jealousy tinging in when she’d send you pictures of fancy clothes and people she was hanging out with, the nicely decorated venues she’d find herself in. She invited you to come to the city a few weeks in, buzzing on Facetime about backstage passes.

Then you were graduating yourself, packing two suitcases and jetting halfway across the country to live in the shitty apartment Domi’d been renting out with a couple of strangers. It had been hard to settle down at first, the air was different in the city and you’d had to up your resting bitch face game when you sat on the subways late at night, but before you knew it, you were enjoying the city that never sleeps, best friend right by your side.

Colson had stumbled into your life a year ago, and then been ripped out six months after. He was a up and coming musician (self-proclaimed) and had taken a chance bet on the city, moved from Cleveland with his friends and a mixtape. He was beautiful in a rugged way, angled cheekbones and lanky limbs, but Domi had taken one look and called dibs, so you tampered any attraction down.

It hadn’t taken long for them to start dating, even if Domi claimed they were just fooling around, it was clear to see that there was some level of intimacy there, a relationship itching to be formed. You’d been happy for her truly and it was easier than you’d expected to fall into a camaraderie with the guys.

Colson’s friends were funny, quick on their toes and absolutely chaotic. They fit into New York better than you did, and almost every single night, you would find yourself at their apartment, playing shitty drinking games and jamming to loud music.

Domi kept the relationship as lowkey as she could, and at some point, you would hear less and less about Colson. It didn’t really hit you then, but it was the beginning of the end in a way, and then she was walking in, eyes red and wet before yelling out the fated words, “We broke up.”

Everything you had gotten used to was suddenly taken away. You spent weeks consoling her, reminding her that she was better than this guy, stronger and that time was the only way this would heal. She begrudgingly listened, and then took your phone from you, casually blocking Colson’s number along with all his friends.

At first, you’d been mildly upset. She was the one who’d fucked up, the one who’d decided to break up with him, so why was this effecting you? It didn’t make sense, they were still your friends and you liked them more than anyone else you’d met here.

But then she’d given you her patented puppy dog eyes, and you’d dismissed it, decided that if this was what she wanted, so be it. You could stand to lose the drunken nights, your liver would thank you.

Colson Baker and his friends disappeared from your life as fast as they had appeared into it. You spent your nights cooking at home instead of going out, focused on building back your sleep schedule instead of getting drunk off your mind, and the days went by.

Of course, nothing lasts forever and six months later, your coworkers’ are begging you for a night out, like the old times. Everyone’s antsy for your reply, know that you haven’t been to a social function with them in ages, and you take one look at their faces before sighing and agreeing.

The entire office claps, you flip them all off before catching sight of your boss, who simply smiles and shakes his head. There’s a faint flutter in your stomach, memories rising from months ago, parties and late nights, flashes of lights and thumping music. You shrug it off, tap your pen against the desk, bring your focus back to work.

Three hours later, you’re catching the train back home. It isn’t exactly rush hour yet, you’ve gotten out a little earlier than usual, Friday evenings usually being dull at work anyway and you’re glad because there’s less people mulling around in the sticky heat of the train station.

The station doesn’t smell great, there’s a tinge of stale pee filling up the air and you discreetly move to the other side of the station, trying to get as far away from the smell as you can. New York City man.

The train pulls in, and you automatically put in your headphones, music blasting in your ears as you sidle into the train car, passing the passengers coming out. It’s relatively empty, being near the front and you thank the train gods before sliding into an orange seat near the door.

There’s a couple of guys sitting at the other end, they’re loud and boisterous, shoving each other and you give them a once-over before settling into the seat. The train moves, and you pull your purse onto your lap, patting it once before letting your eyes fall close.

The next stop comes abruptly, jolting you out of the little dreamscape you’d created. There’s a shout as the doors open and you pause your music trying to tune into what’s going on. It’s still the group of guys, but now there’s more of them and you roll your eyes at the banter drifting across the car.

The music starts up again and you lean your head back, try to get comfortable again, but it doesn’t work. There’s a weird feeling in your gut, making you uneasy but you brush it off, raise the volume until all you can feel is the dirty bass.

A minute later, someone kicks at your shoes and you open your eyes, ready to angrily scold at them until they can feel the rage across the car.

The words die in your throat. Colson Baker’s standing there in all his glory, lanky arm leaning against the metal, blonde hair puffing around his head, grin lighting up his face.

His nose is pierced now and you take it in, the way it brings out his eyes and you pause the music mumbling out, “Nose ring looks good on you.”

You bite your tongue right after, embarrassed that after months of silence that’s the first thing that falls out of your mouth. He laughs, body shaking and you’re flashed back to nights in his apartment, watching him laugh on the other couch, head thrown back.

“Thanks,” he murmurs before going, “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” you answer honestly and there’s another shout from across the car, Colson turning to wave a hand.

“It’s the guys. They didn’t think it was you, but I could tell yanno,” he explains and you raise your eyebrows as he continues, “They’re all still kinda pissed you blocked us.”

The statement falls between you two, awkwardly as the train car rumbles on. You wince a little as he fake coughs to fill the empty space.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about all that man. You guys were like family,” you carefully mention, hands playing with the hair tie on your wrist.

“It’s cool. I get it, I mean we both know Domi,” he stammers out and his own hand goes to rub at his chin.

This conversation isn’t what either of you expected and you shift up in your seat, trying to change the topic at the mention of your best friend.

“So what’ve you been up to?” you ask and he smiles at the gateway question, eager to get rid of the uncomfortable energy.

“Got signed to a record label,” he murmurs and the smile that takes over your face is unreal. There’s pride blooming in your chest.

“No way!! Oh my god, congrats dude. That’s killer,” you gush out and his cheeks taint red at your words.

“Thanks,” he says, eyes meeting yours.

“I knew you’d do it. You’re immensely talented,” you continue on as the train comes to a stop.

It’s not yours but it seems to be his. The guys all shout over at him and he’s looking up and then gazing at you, caught between the two options before he makes up his mind.

He doesn’t choose you, you’re not surprised.

“I appreciate you!” he shouts out before running off the car, joining the rest of the guys on the station.

You turn in your seat and wave at them, catching a couple of glares and hesitant waves back before the car pulls away, to the next destination.

The music starts up again and you will your heart to slow down for reasons you can’t even comprehend.

Domi gives you a look as you rush into your room. Usually after work, you spend time in the kitchen, milling around grabbing little snacks as she cooks, but you actually have plans tonight.

It’s the first time you’re going out in months and you take a quick shower before pulling out all the old outfits you’d shoved into the back of your closet.

There’s a nice dress, black with faint traces of glitter and you eye it for a second before deciding against it. This is a fun night with the coworkers, not your insane best friend who’d always managed to get you to dress your very best.

There’s a pair of skinny jeans tossed into a dresser, and you eye the rips in it before pulling it on. It looks good, tight in all the right places and you root around for a shirt that can be just fancy enough.

There’s a nice purple one tossed in the closet, slipping off of a hanger and you grab it before pulling it on and tying it up in the front.

It’s pretty, makes you look just right and you play around with your hair before sitting down and committing to a makeup look.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re throwing your keys, a pack of gum, gloss and your phone into a small purse. It hangs off of your wrist and you take a look in the mirror before stepping out of your room.

“Where are you going?” Domi asks, her tone slightly cold.

“Night out. Coworkers invited me and I couldn’t say no,” you explain, running your hands down the jeans.

“Oh,” her face falls.

“Do I-look good?” you ask hesitantly.

“Yeah. You always do bitch,” she half-heartedly adds and you smile at her.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you say, grabbing a carrot from the countertop.

“I’ll wait up,” she smirks and you nod before heading out the door.

The club’s only a few stops away and when you swipe your metro card again, you groan at how low the funds are running. You haven’t filled it just yet, and the $1.25 flashes up at you, taunting.

“I’m poor,” you scoff at the machine and the girl swiping next to you laughs.

You get in somehow, sneakily using the swinging baby stroller door and by the time the train pulls up, you’re only running a few minutes late.

It only hits you when you sink into the familiar orange seat that you didn’t tell Domi about running into her ex. You know she doesn’t care as much about Colson now, scorchingly refers to him as that one rapper, but it’s an unspoken rule. You always tell if you run into the ex.

Your fingers tap against your phone screen, wondering if texting her is appropriate but you drop it quickly. It’s not a big deal. You’ll just let her know when you get home tonight.

The doors open, you leave and then you’re stalking towards the club doors, eyeing the long line. The bouncer is staring everyone down, and you wade up to the front. You’ve learned enough tricks in the short party lifestyle you’d had.

“I’m with the VIPs,” you flash your ID and then a $5 discreetly tucked under it. He looks you up and down, grumbles slightly before taking the money from you.

The rope opens and you smile before stepping through into the dark. It’s loud inside already, the lights contrasting the slight evening colors from outside. You look around before you spot the team and walk over to them.

“Hey!!!” they exclaim and then you’re being handed a glass, cheering the night as everyone drinks it down.

It’s tequila, stings in the back of your throat and you cough before wiping your mouth, “God, I haven’t had this in so long.”

“See that’s why we needed you out tonight,” one of them goes, checking your shoulder with theirs. You laugh before agreeing and order your drink of choice, chiming into the conversation.

It’s going so well, the night seems to be twinged with good vibes. You feel nice and loose, arm draped over your nearest friend as you two sway at the songs playing.

There’s a commotion at the door and you guys turn towards the bouncer only to see people scuffling around, pushing to get closer.

“Hey dude! I’m playing tonight. Musical guest here!!!” comes a loud voice, and it rings familiar in your head. It’s faint, digging somewhere into the back of your mind and you get on your tip-toes trying to see.

“Fuck you,” someone else spits and it echoes around the club.

The crowd splits open then, and you get a glimpse at old friends, adjusting their hats as they stalk across to the stage.

Rook’s fuming as he walks past you, and you spot the tell-tale crease on his face, the grit of his teeth. It scares you, the memory of it all after late night game losses, the way he would blow a gasket about cheating.

Slim and Baze wander behind him, they seem cooler, always are, but the anger is brimming under and you look away as they pass you.

AJ isn’t there and you guess he’s already in the club. He’s always been the sensible one, stable and ready to take control of the situation when it inevitably turns bad.

Colson’s following the rest but his eyes are on the crowd, hand going out to meet people, smiling at everyone. There’s a faint cut on his lip, blood trickling out and you want to scream at him. He comes up around to where you’re standing, and you step back, let your coworkers high five him as he passes.

He doesn’t see you, it’s better that way.

You order up another drink, ignore the whispers of the pesky rapper as they fill up the air around you. He’s well known here apparently, people aware of him in the scene. They mumble about the fights, the way he never seems to show up without a cut or bruise.

You take a shot, sip at the alcohol, smile fading as your coworker ravishes on about how good looking the musician is.

It takes about twenty minutes, and then the music shuts off. There’s a squeal of microphone feedback and everyone around you ducks, hands rushing up to cover their ears.

“Fuck,” a mumble comes across the sound system.

There’s another shuffle and your friend grabs your arm, pulling you closer to the stage. There’s already people there, milling around, clutching drinks and you try to stay on the sidelines, out of view.

“We should go closer,” he determines and then you’re being pulled forward again, swimming around in the second row.

Colson is standing front and center in all his glory. The shitty lighting makes him glow, and he looks big, energy filling him up. He pulls the mic off the stand and steps back before going, “Afternoon. We are Machine Gun Kelly.”

The name isn’t familiar. You don’t know it and quite frankly, it doesn’t place anywhere either but that’s all you get before the music starts up. It’s weird, a pace you don’t expect from him and then he’s off, singing with a grit in his voice, fingers flying across a guitar draped over his shoulder.

Everyone seems to bob along in the crowd and you do too, losing yourself in the way he sounds, the tone of his voice as he croons. The music is great, drums harsh and strong, guitar loud behind the vocals.

The set’s over quick and you’re slightly sweating by the end of it. He thanks the crowd before jumping off stage, and you immediately retreat back to the bar, anxious to steer clear of him.

Even in your drunken state of mind, it’s a bright red flashing light: Stay away from Colson. Stay away from the guys.

You switch to water for a while, try to stop your head from spinning with the lights. Everyone you came with is somewhere on the dance floor, so when an arm drapes on your shoulders, you freeze up, still facing the bar.

“Hey,” and then you’re looking up at Slim’s face, sweaty and eager.

“Slim,” you breathe out, vice in your chest loosening at the fact that it isn’t Colson. You don’t know why this is better, but it is.

“What’re you drinking?” he asks, hand going up to call over the bartender.

You don’t have the heart to say water, know that he’ll laugh and then get you a beer, so you murmur, “Get me a shot of vodka?”

His smile widens and he shouts the drink order over the counter before dropping his arm, “You sipping the hard stuff now?”

Shaking your head, you respond, “I’ve always drank the hard stuff.”

“Yeah, back when we hung out,” he slips into the banter, and your heart stops. You didn’t realize it had hurt them this bad, that months later, drunk and high off of a good show, Slim still manages to bring it up, voice tightening slightly.

“Look, I’m sorry about all that. I really am,” you start, but then he’s passing you the drink and locking arms.

“Cheers,” he says and you clink your shot glass against his, tipping it back.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out but he throws you a look.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says and then he’s shouting out, “Yo Kells!”

It clicks into place then, the Machine Gun Kelly. It’s his nickname, has been for years apparently since he was rapping in middle school hallways, but he’d always introduced himself as Colson to new friends, let them decide whether the Kells fit him or not.

You hadn’t called him Kells once, in the months of knowing him, had laughed about it a couple of times with Domi, who loved to mock it any chance she could.

“You stalking me?” Kells sleazes out, there’s already a drink in his hand, someone following him around with bright eyes.

“No,” you state, moving away from the counter. The red lights are in full effect, this could end up terribly.

“Seems like it,” he sums up, coming in closer to lean against the bar. His lip is still cut, looks swollen as he approaches you.

“You fucked up your lip,” you state, mind cursing at the lack of filter you seem to have around your best friend’s ex.

“What?” he goes, and then his fingers are rubbing at the fat lip, eyes scrunching, “Guess I did.”

“Well it was nice to see you again,” you try.

“I just got here, you leaving already?” he murmurs, brushing off the person following him.

Slim’s moved to the other end of the bar, Rook’s throwing you a glare.

“Don’t think your friends want me around,” you nod over.

He turns his head and makes some kind of motion. Rook drops his eye contact, head going to duck at the bar. Slim smiles.

“They don’t know what’s good for them,” he mumbles, head turning back. His fingers tap at the bar, and there’s a beer appearing. He smiles at the bartender.

“I’m good for them?” you scoff, there’s a hint of bitterness at your tone, but it’s not directed exactly at them. It isn’t their fault.

“Always have been. The good influence when we would try and do stupid shit,” he says thoughtfully. He’s almost as drunk as you, eyes slightly red.

You laugh at that, “You’re always doing stupid shit. Great set by the way, impressed the fuck out of me.”

“You didn’t expect it?” he says as if you were supposed to have known all his songs by heart.

“I haven’t heard any of your music,” you honestly reply.

“Not even the mixtapes?” he seems shocked.

“No, Domi never sent them to me and you all just assumed so,” you stop yourself, falling into dangerous territory.

At the name drop of his ex, he winces a little, “God she was a fucking head-case.”

“Hey that’s my best friend you’re talking about,” you shout a little too loud. You catch Slim slamming a hand onto Rook’s shoulder. The air becomes stifled.

“Sorry,” Colson offers, taking a long, pointed sip.

You sigh, “Don’t be. She can be a little much sometimes. I’m sorry for how it all ended.”

“You should hang with us tonight,” he calmly says, switching the subject. Your breath catches in your throat.

“I don’t know-“ you start.

He cuts you off, “I get it. If you want, we’ll be here for a while. Find us.”

That’s all you get and then he’s walking towards the gang, slipping into the crowd. You drop your head onto the shell covered bar, groaning out.

The night dwindles down, your coworkers trickle out, slamming messy kisses on your face before walking out. You’re left by yourself soon enough and there’s a pulsing in your head, matching the music vibrating under your shoes.

It doesn’t take long to decide. You want to hang out with Colson and them, with Machine Gun Kelly. It’s a bad idea, you can tell before you’ve even fully determined it, but it’s as if fate’s lined everything up for you. It’s gonna happen.

You push away the nagging thoughts, wander around the club trying to find someone, coming up empty. Everyone seems to have left and you roll your eyes before stepping out yourself. Maybe fate doesn’t want this to happen.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, you spot Rook across the street, blunt in hand. He hasn’t seen you, looking down at his shoes but you know him well and if he’s around it means the others are close by.

You brace yourself, work up some form of courage and walk over. He looks up at the sound and there’s immediate dislike flashing across his face.

Out of everyone, Rook’s been the most temperamental. You’d thought it was going to be Colson at first glance, but were quickly proven wrong by his friend, by the harshness of his demeanor at times. He doesn’t hide his feelings, and while you respect that, you’re also intimidated by his posturing.

“Hey Rook,” you mumble.

“Y/N,” he bluntly states.

“How have you been?” you try, but immediately know it’s the wrong thing to say.

“Cut the shit. What’d you want?” he bites out, eyes hard.

“Was wondering if I could catch a ride with you guys?” you question.

AJ usually drives them around, his black van large enough for the gang, and his self control strong enough to stay sober. You don’t know if it’s changed since the last time everyone hung out, but you’re hoping it hasn’t for the sake of your almost empty metrocard.

“Why’d you think we drove here?” he’s shrugs, giving you a hard time, and you shake your head wondering if your pride is worth this.

“Never mind dude,” you turn around but then he’s groaning behind you.

“Yeah we’ll take you back home. Kells’ kill me if I let you walk around here drunk. C’mon,” he says and you try to hide your smile as you follow him.

He takes a few more hits before tossing his blunt to the ground, and you’re glad he hasn’t offered you any. It would be too forgiving of him, too close to what you all used to be, and you wouldn’t know what to do if it came to that. Domi would kill you, hell she’d kill you if she knew you were getting into a car with them right now.

He stops in front of the familiar van, opens the door with force and everyone’s shouting inside, clambering over each other. You almost smile at the chaos, the familiarity of it all.

“Y/N!” Colson’s shouting and you do smile then. He slumps over long limbs and comes over to the door, reaching his hand out to you.

“You coming with us?” he asks and you nod before Rook mutters, “She needs a ride home.”

Colson purses his lips before looking back over at you, hand still outstretched, “Yeah, c’mon in. AJ got you.”

It’s late, later than you should be out and there’s a reminder that Domi’s waiting for you back home, wants to hear about your night. Your resolve flickers the minute his hand wraps around yours.

He tugs you in the van, and you follow, stepping in before they all scatter around, making enough space. There’s another girl with them, someone you don’t remember meeting or knowing but she smiles at you and curls into Rook’s side.

The music in the van is almost as loud as in the club, filling up the space. You wonder, not for the first time, how AJ drives like this, how he casually sings along, fist bumping the rest of the guys after a song.

Before you know it, there’s a blunt being passed around. Colson skips you on the first round, and you try not to let it hurt, remind yourself that you’ve stung them harder than this, hurt them worse.

He leans into your space after handing it off, whispers, “You still don’t smoke right?”

There’s a painful twist in your stomach at his question. When you all first met, you wouldn’t smoke blunts with them, hesitant about the strain and Domi’s eyes on you. She hated weed, despised the smell and would always remind you of that fact before you’d all spend the night out.

After the breakup, she’d loosened up on that, didn’t care if you smoked out on the fire escape, and sometimes even joined in, it was weird. Weirder than the fact that Colson somehow remembered all this months later.

“I do,” you whispered back, licking your lips, “smoke I mean.”

“Oh,” he softly says and then the blunt’s coming back around. He barely takes a hit before handing it off to you, pushing your hand slightly with his fist.

“Thanks,” you mumble, smoking it in. It’s strong, brings an immediate rush. You close your eyes.

When you open them, Colson’s too close to you. The red lights flash hard in your head and then the car’s stopping in front of their building.

You don’t even hesitate, “Is it wrong if I come up with you?”

His eyes look into yours, it’s quiet enough that you feel the weight of your statement sink in. This is bad, so bad.

He doesn’t say anything but everyone around you is moving, pulling off instruments and slamming doors. He carefully takes your hand, pulls the blunt out from your other one.

“AJ, we’re gonna chill for a while,” he says, towards the front seat, giving him the blunt. There’s a hum and then he’s opening the door, pulling you out just as he’d pulled you in.

For a second, you hesitate and then you’re falling into him. His arm wraps around your hips, pulls you back up on the sidewalk.

“You okay?” his voice is quiet, the world still moves around you both but it feels like you’re the only two people who matter.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Wanna go home?” he says, and the words hit you for a second before you shake your head.

“No, this is cool,” you tongue out.

You’re both walking into the building then, satisfied with your answers. The manager gives you a once over at the front desk but that’s all before Colson’s thumbing the elevator button.

“What about everyone else?” you murmur.

He looks at them unloading the van and lets out a laugh, fingers tightening slightly against yours as he shakes, “They’re gonna be busy a while.”

You laugh back, try to tamper down the feeling of seeing him full-body laugh for the second time that day. The elevator dings and you step in, he follows.

It’s the same damn elevator as it was six months ago, but there’s something different in the air right now. It’s staticky, thrumming through you and it feels like you’re stumbling right on the edge of something.

The doors close, it’s just you and him. The feeling gets stronger, his fingers loosen against yours. You grip harder and he looks up straight into your eyes.

The door dings open again and he huffs a little, “Forgot to click the button.”

You smile but it feels thin. Your brain is flashing wrong, flashing red, screaming Domi’s name, but your heart is racing, pounding against your chest.

You screw your eyes shut.

He hits the button, the elevator starts going and you step closer to him. His back is against the elevator wall and there’s a calm look on his face, but you can tell he’s nervous, can feel it in the clamminess of his palm where it’s sticking to yours.

“I’m going to kiss you,” you blurt and you don’t even have time to regret the words before he’s pushing into you, lips finding yours within seconds.

They’re warm and softer than you expected. He lets out a groan as you kiss back, and you’re reminded of his cut, the swollen lip he’s sporting now. You move back, rest your forehead against his.

“Sorry, your lip,” you attempt to explain, but he shakes his head, forehead sliding across yours, twisting it.

“I like it,” he mumbles and you smile before kissing him again, feeling his arm wrap around you, pull you closer.

It’s the first time you’ve kissed him, he’s strictly off limits, a forbidden idea, but it feels like everything has suddenly fallen into place. The warning signs dissolve into bursts of serotonin as he makes little sounds, pressed up with your mouth.

The door dings open. You break apart and step out. Is kiss drunk a thing, or are you losing your mind? He grins at you, pulls your joined hands up for a soft kiss brushing on your knuckles.

Your heart flutters right then. If you’re losing your mind, you’re glad it’s with him. Dealing with the aftermath is something you’ll do later, so you push all thoughts of Domi and her complications aside and follow him straight into his apartment, consequences be damned.

taglist: @iamdorka @no-shxt-sherl @bakerkells @findingmyths @rosegoldrichie @mayaslifeinabox @itjustkindahappenedreally @hnbtx @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @sophroniaa @enchantedamusedslightlyconfused @calum-defense-squad

#sorry <3 #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly fluff #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly fanfiction #mgk fanfic #mgk lockscreen #mgk smut #colson baker x reader #colson baker fanfic #colson baker fluff #colson baker fanfiction #colson baker smut #mgk headers #machine gun kelly smut #m writes 4 mgk

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auncyen · 4 years ago

Text

Ok ok so I'd been idly thinking about updating "Chats with Joker in Mementos" for Royal for a while, except as far as I know there aren't any transcriptions for the Royal Mementos chats like there is for Vanilla...

So...after some questionable use of my time, I now have a list of a good chunk of the starters in Royal. Only starters, not responses, since the point of the fic is having Joker be the one to respond, and I didn't transcribe ones I didn't think would be interesting for him to respond to, but still, if anyone does ever look to do a complete transcription, this might be helpful as a start? Or just interesting if you want to see what some characters talk about. Spoilers for third semester below cut.

Ryuji: Man, we really bust our asses to get stronger in here. I wish it meant we got stronger in the real world too.

Ryuji: Man, I had this horrible dream last night… Can’t remember a thing about it, though.

Ryuji: Ya know what? I guess Mona does have a mask, technically.

Ryuji: Yo, the way he jumps behind Shadows is so sick!

Ryuji: Yo, is it just me, or is fallin’ asleep getting tougher every night? At this point, I’m outta ideas of what to do.

Ryuji: Kinda fiendin’ for some ramen right about now… Maybe I’ll hit up Ogikubo when we get back.

RyujI: So lately, I’ve been tryin’ to work some training into my nightly routine before bed.

Ryuji: Hey, is it just me, or is Morgana’s sword basically the same size as Joker’s knife?

Ryuji: My mom made gyudon last night! My fave! Now I’ve got, like, fifty times more energy than usual!

Ryuji: This phantom thief stuff feels real as hell whenever he’s flyin’ around with that grappling hook.

Ryuji: Dude, that grappling hook is awesome! He looks like a freakin’ superhero with that thing!

Ryuji: Aww man, I just can’t get enough of those Akihabara maids…

Ryuji: Aren’t knives kinda hard to use ‘cause of their shortness? I definitely prefer my own shit.

Ryuji: I always thought darts looked easy—just aim for the board, y’know? But, it’s waaay harder than that.

Ryuji: Every try the monja in Tsukishima? That stuff is LEGIT.

Ryuji: Yo, does this outfit really make me look like I’m part of some biker gang?

Morgana: Listen, it’s not that I look like a cat. Cats just happen to look like me.

Morgana: I repeat: I am not a cat. To prove it, I took an actual bath yesterday.

Morgana: So, cats love to chase mice, right? I don’t get it—where’s the fun in that?

Morgana: I’m always so entranced by Panther’s whip technique!

Morgana: Panther, we have matching tails!

Morgana: You know, I’ve never actually been in a car before. Is it anything like I am now?

Morgana: I definitely made the right decision giving him the code name “Joker.”

Morgana: I’m willing to bet Joker’s skilled enough to use throwing knives.

Morgana: Anime, books, movies… Phantom thieves sure are popular.

Morgana: Last night I dreamt that Phantom Thieves were kicking some serious butt—let’s bring that dream to life!

Morgana: I can teach you everything you need to know about being a phantom thief. Relax—you’re in good hands!

Morgana: *yawn* I didn’t get enough sleep…

Morgana: I couldn’t fall asleep at all last night. I just laid there with my eyes open…

Morgana: I like Yongen-Jaya; it’s a great place for a stroll.

Morgana: Is Shujin Academy the only thing in Aoyama?

Morgana: I was vegetating in front of the TV last night, and I have to say, there are some pretty decent shows on now.

Ann: The bakery had a sale yesterday and I ended up buying everything they had!

Ann: The Ferris wheel is a must for me at theme parks, every time. I love being able to just relax.

Ann: I have an upcoming shoot at a theme park, but what sucks is how I can’t go on any of the rides.

Ann: Last night I dreamt I was eating a chocolate bar, then all of a sudden, it got mad and started chasing me!

Ann: Every once in a while I have a dream where I get chased by a Shadow…

Ann: I’ve been sleeping really well since I started getting all this exercise.

Ann: I was up late watching TV last night, so I might be a little sleep deprived…

Ann: I tend to do my clothes shopping in Kichijoji—it’s fun looking through all the resale shops.

Ann: I hate when people ask me to say stuff in English just ‘cause I lived overseas.

Ann: It always bothers me when foreign movie subtitles leave stuff out or take too many liberties.

Ann: I was talking to my overseas friend the other day—her straightforward attitude was really refreshing!

Ann: I was talking to Shiho on the phone and before I knew it, three whole hours had passed!

Ann: Joker seems like he’d make a good cook, doesn’t he? I mean, he’s great with his knife and all…

Ann: It’s actually quite exhilarating to attack with a whip. I wonder why that is…

Ann: Whenever my foreign relatives come to Japan, they always rave about how much they love Japanese food!

Ann: Do you think there’s anything I can do about my outfit? I feel like I stand out too much in this…

Ann: Is there a difference between a whip and a grappling hook?

Ann: Ya know, Skull’s always been into skull designs and stuff.

Ann: Wouldn’t a grappling hook be awfully handy in the real world?

Yusuke: I wish to paint the world as only I see it. The best way to succeed at this is through practice.

Yusuke: It’s fun to walk around and inspect different temples and shrines. The architecture is always impressive.

Yusuke: If Shadows are sentient, do you think their being moved by a painting would invoke a change of heart?

Yusuke: There have been times where I was compelled to create three-dimensional art.

Yusuke: I’m quite curious about Mona’s Western-style sword…

Yusuke: I hear whips are quite difficult to use. Where did you learn how to wield one?

Yusuke: Joker using a grappling hook…. That would make for a picture-perfect composition.

Yusuke: Mona, what exactly do you have in those pouches?

Yusuke: Creating a piece of art is pointless unless I can convey the full essence of the subject.

Yusuke: Art museums stimulate my creativity like no other place—I wish I could live inside one.

Yusuke: Skull and I both use long melee weapons, but they’re total opposites of one another.

Yusuke: Why does my outfit have a tail? I don’t understand…

Yusuke: I considered growing my own bean sprouts, but it seems to be more expensive than buying them grown.

Yusuke: I once had a dream that I washed up on a deserted island. I painted as much as I pleased… So wonderful.

Yusuke: I may specialize in Japanese-style painting, but I’d like to learn some Western techniques as well.

Yusuke: That grappling hook is very useful. I should find a way to utilize one in my daily life.

Yusuke: The other day, I went into the mountains to gather vegetables so I could cut back on food expenses.

Yusuke: I tried to paint a landscape of the starry sky once, but it’s quite difficult to do so from within the city.

Yusuke: India ink isn’t my specialty, but I’ve been experimenting with it in some recent work, just for fun.

Makoto: I may have stopped being a doormat for adults, but people are still calling me a “teacher’s pet.”

Makoto: A phantom thief’s body is their most vital asset. We need to make sure we eat balanced, nutritious meals.

Makoto: Do you enjoy visiting theme parks? I’ve rarely been to one myself.

Makoto: Fox looks cooler using his katana than I had originally imagined.

Makoto: I had the weirdest dream… I was at school, but I was wearing my phantom thief outfit.

Makoto: Would anyone care to learn how to drive, while we’re here? This place seems as good as any for practice.

Makoto: I know it’s not very healthy, but I do enjoy eating ramen from time to time.

Makoto: Once I’ve graduated, I’m going to buy a motorcycle and go on a road trip.

Makoto: I’ve been working on my grades because I still want to attend college, despite being a phantom thief.

Makoto: I want to read a certain book, but it’s out of print. Where do you suppose I could find a copy?

Makoto: Maybe I’m just burned out, but waking up has grown awfully difficult lately.

Makoto: The grappling hook’s cable seems pretty strong, but it’s scary to think what could happen if it snapped.

Makoto: Once my sister brought home some sushi for me. It was indescribably good…

Futaba: I heard rhythm’s an important part of fighting, sooo… I started playing a rhythm game!

Futaba: There’s going to be an event tonight in the MMO I play. I can’t wait!

Futaba: This MMO I’m hooked on is really cool. Do you wanna play with me? Oh—it’s in English, though.

Futaba: I’m about to beat the game I’ve been playing. Wonder what I should play next?

Futaba: I’ve been going outside a lot more, so now I’m sleeping way better than I did when I was a shut-in.

Futaba: Guess what? I’m making a game called “Hungry Hungry Mona”!

Futaba: You know who’s a really good driver, is Sojiro. He can parallel park with his eyes closed!

Futaba: If you could shoot grappling hooks from your hands, you’d probably be able to get around just using those!

Futaba: Ya know, I’ve thought about workin’ out and fighting alongside you guys.

Futaba: You guys should try playing shooters! It could help you improve your gun skills.

Futaba: Last night I had a dream my hard drive failed… That was scary.

Futaba: Wouldn’t it be cool if you could mod the grappling hook so it was electrified?

Futaba: Sure, the internet’s convenient, but it’s not like it can do everything. Don’t overestimate its capabilities.

Futaba: I wonder if I’d be okay going to some place by myself if it wasn’t crowded. Inokashira Park seems nice.

Futaba: Yesterday Sojiro bought me my favorite instant yakisoba!

Futaba: Maybe I should get a gun too, just for self-defense… Nah, my hands need to be empty.

Haru: I found this cafe in Kichioji with phenomenal tea—would you care to try it sometime?

Haru: I ordered kusaya but they refused to make it—they said they couldn’t get the smell out of the kitchen.

Haru: I feel like I need to learn more about the world, but I’m not sure how to best go about it.

Haru: Recently, I’ve been finding rare delicacies rather enticing…

Haru: Even lately, I sometimes dream about doing phantom thief things with Mona.

Haru: If you’re having trouble getting yourself to relax, I recommend herbal tea.

Haru: Asakusa is a wonderful area—I love how it’s this blend of the old and the new.

Haru: Ever since I started high school I’ve been taking the train in the morning, but I’m still not used to it…

Haru: Queen, your mask looks like it’s made of iron. Doesn’t it get heavy?

Haru: Joker’s so acrobatic! He’s really got the hang of that grappling hook.

Haru: I don’t think I’ve gotten this much exercise since I was in ballet.

Haru: Let me know if you ever get a tear in your clothing—I’m good at sewing, so I could most likely fix it.

Haru: I dreamt that the vegetables I’d been growing all died… I was so sad.

Haru: Your weapon seems fun, Skull. Do you want to swap sometime?

Haru: Sometimes it’s impossible for me to fall asleep on days that we’ve been to Palaces, no matter how tired I am.

Haru: You know, before this, I’d never considered using an axe for anything other than chopping firewood…

Haru: My hands have gotten all calloused… I supposed it comes with the territory in gardening.

Akechi: I have no intention of changing my stance on matters, no matter what anyone may say.

Akechi: Pancakes... I don’t want to hear that word again for a long, long time.

Akechi: We don’t have much time left. Please do what you can to avoid getting sick.

Akechi: The enemies are stronger than ever. Don’t let your guard down.

Akechi: A world that panders to your every whim is so mundane. Where’s the thrill if there’s no competition?

Akechi: Do you prefer my previous outfit or this one? Moving around’s become much easier for me.

Akechi: This place is immense. If there weren’t train tracks everywhere, I’d bring my bike here.

Akechi: We’re working under the constraints of a time limit, so I’d appreciate it if you could be more efficient.

Akechi: If you’re looking for a way to train both your mind and your body, I highly recommend bouldering.

Akechi: You think I’m frightening when I fight? Well, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to accept it.

Akechi: I meant to tell you, regarding Shido… Thank you for keeping your promise.

Akechi: You may not like working with me, but I’m counting on your assistance until our goal is achieved.

Akechi: When we’re riding in the car like this, it’s easy to forget that we’re actually inside Mona.

Akechi: The Shadows here behave differently from the ones in the Palaces, don’t they?

Akechi: I’m getting a bit hungry. I should’ve eaten beforehand.

Akechi: I enjoy spending time in Kichijoji. It’s not very big, but there are plenty of trendy shops.

Akechi: Riding in the car may beat walking, but it doesn’t stop my legs from growing stiff and sore…

Sumire: I have a few different superstitions for good luck in my routines… They get sort of hard to drop.

Sumire: It was already hard for me to believe Palaces existed, but to think there’s such a massive one under Shibuya…

Sumire: It’s a bit cramped in here with this many people…

Sumire: I get stiff all over from just sitting in the car.

Sumire: Why is the one desert you get to eat during the week so delicious?

Sumire: A phantom thief outfit represents a person’s image of their rebellion, right?

Sumire: I wonder if I should try incorporating another sport into my gymnastics training.

Sumire: I wonder what I could use as inspiration for my performances…

Sumire: Swords are actually pretty hard to wield.

Sumire: Whenever I travel, I always end up buying some sort of good luck charm.

Sumire: Your outfits are all so unique. I can see coordinating them wasn’t a priority.

Sumire: This time of year, a heating pad’s an absolute must for keeping warm.

Sumire: Sometimes people will just walk up to me and ask me to show them a standing split.

Sumire: I’m in top shape today! Let’s keep going.

Sumire: Do you all stretch beforehand? You could pull a muscle if you don’t.

Sumire: It’s too bad gymnastics competitions aren’t on TV more often.

Sumire: Fighting makes for a pretty good workout, doesn’t it?

while I didn't transcribe responses, I did notice something a bit disappointing: neither Sumire nor Akechi seemed to have responses for anyone else. It's possible I missed one?? But not being able to remember any, they must not have many if they do have some. A bit odd.

#persona 5 #p5r #p5r spoilers #to pick from later

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queenof-literature · 5 years ago

Note

Ok okokok I’m sorry if this is already asked but how would the Links react to finding out that Wild helped (and practically built) Tarrey Town?

Hi thank you so much for the request! I took some creative liberties for this one. For example I know that as Link you just get bundles of wood and find people mostly, but I expanded it to have him helping to build homes and help the elderly move in because he’s Wild of course he would. Also I 100% Wild and Hyrule both, if not more of the group, have Imposter Syndrome because 1) It fits with their characters 2) I like self projecting :D This turned out to be so much longer than I intended I’m so sorry.

“Wild!” Legend whined. No, he did not whine. Legend did not whine, he simply was tired of walking. “Tell us where we’re going!” Groaning as Wild simply walked on. Legend would almost call it skipping. The boy seemed much more lively than he was in Twilight’s Hyrule, although that made sense since they landed in Wild’s this morning. When Legend first met Wild, he mistook his silence for some kind hatred or malice. Towards the group, or his Hyrule, or himself, Legend didn’t know. But Legend had come to learn that Wild’s heart was full of love, all of the heroes' hearts were. It was something he was jealous of at first.

Watching the Hero of Time, the Hero of Twilight, all of them, he hated them in the beginning. Perhaps hate is a strong word. He knew they weren’t bad people, quite the opposite. Every time he saw Twilight do something right and be praised by Time, a hot knife went through him. He thought it was out of anger, that some farm boy seemed perfect. But he realized it was hurt later on.

But then he truly saw them. He saw Sky struggle to think about how to build an entire Hyrule with his Zelda. He saw Twilight struggle to simply be in Ordon again, where he felt he didn’t belong after all he had been through. He saw Four struggle with some unnamed figures of his past. He saw Hyrule struggle with the weight of his new role in a group setting. He saw Warriors act proud and mighty, when in reality his shoulders sagged deep in the night under all the weight placed upon them. He saw Wind run his mouth until he wrote letters to his little sister, silent as the dead. He saw the Hero of Time clutch his blanket some nights, perhaps dreaming it was his wife, the only one who brought him comfort on lonely nights. Finally he saw Wild, silent and calculating, but also a tornado of untamed hair and a contagious smiles.

He wasn’t perfect and he never would be, even with an insane amount of quests and items in his back pocket. But his companions were nowhere near perfect themselves. If Legend were being honest, he finally felt like he belonged to this team of heroes. He felt he had a purpose, no longer just a lone spirit floating from quest to quest, only to be thrown into more danger his entire life. Sometimes he was kept awake by the thoughts of what happened after. Legend desperately hoped he would still be able to see the others after this quest was over. If not for him, but for the ones like Twilight and Wild who didn’t feel like they quite belonged completely in their Hyrules after all they had been through. Wild still had Zelda and Twilight still had Ordon, Legend could tell by the way they talked that they loved their Hyrules, but they were sometimes painful to be in after their journeys. Some of the other boys struggled with that too. In some twisted way, this quest was a blessing for all of them in one way or another.

Legend had absolutely no idea how Time felt. He had to leave his beautiful and caring wife behind, even though he had obviously gone through hell in his adventures. And that was just the things he told them about. Everytime they were on Lon Lon Ranch they were fed, housed, and loved, all in exchange for some farm work. Did Time resent them? Twilight was Time’s descendant somehow, that meant Time would have children. And dear Hylia did that hurt. Time had to live, he had to raise his children.

“What’s got you so excited, Cub?” Twilight asked fondly, thankfully bringing Legend from his thoughts. The group had taken a brisk walking pace through a bright green meadow, Wild barley containing himself to not break out in a run to get to their mysterious destination. Four gazed into the distance, and half of his mind cried out in joy when their gaze landed on one of the ‘shrines’ Wild had completed.

‘Who cares about a shine?’

‘That could mean we’re near a village!’

‘Don’t get our hopes up, Wild said there's almost 140.’

‘But this one is super obvious!’

Four decided just to ask Wild himself to quiet the others in his head. He wasn’t answering Twilight and Legend. That didn’t say much though, Wild just enjoyed messing with them.

“Hey, Wild? Does that shrine mean a village is nearby?” Four asked the boy leading the group. Wild simply turned and smiled widely. The group all whooped. Wild wouldn’t get their hopes up at the thought of staying in a village for the night only to crush them.

Wild picked up the pace and gestured for the others to do so as well. He was excited to get back to the town and see Hudson and Rhodson again. Hudson was one man that was always genuinely kind to Wild, not forcing him into a job for him and always being hesitant to ask for help. It was honestly a nice change of pace. Wild certainly didn’t hate the people of his Hyrule, quite the opposite. But everyone was so desperate for help it sometimes came off as rude and it stacked up all at once. Hudson never snapped at him for taking too long, or being too quiet. He would simply ask if Link was okay and eating properly. Wild didn’t feel at home for a long time, but there were definitely places that came close to it. His house, the koroks and Deku tree who had memories of Zelda, and Tarry Town were at the top of that list.

He wanted to show his friends Tarry Town so bad! They had been traveling together for months and yet they had never seen it. Wild couldn’t travel with more than a couple of people at a time with his slate, and even then it wasn’t the best idea to do it often. They had never traveled close enough for Wild to show them. It had been a while since they had been able to sleep in a village. They didn’t stay in every civilization they came across, they had other jobs to complete. But Wild’s Hyrule was so vast compared to the others that everytime they landed near a village, they would usually stay there for a night or two.

Wild wanted his friends to see a place he loved, and he was excited to share it with them. He would most likely have jobs to do once there, but his friends could relax in the small town before they continued on. They were approaching the edge of the surrounding cliffs, sparkling waters calmly lapping the shores below. Wild led them to the edge of the cliffs, then tugged Twilight’s sleeve to get them to look in the direction he was pointing. Some of the others gasped at the sight, wondering how they missed it.

Looking below, they could see a rising island protruding from the lake below, rising high above the water with a natural bridge connecting the mainland to the island-like structure. There, the village rested. From a distance the others could see houses similar to those surrounding Wild’s house in Hateno. Geometric squares and rectangles combining to create compact but roomy homes for those that lived in them.

“It looks comfortable, Wild.” Time smiled. He wished more than anything he could let the others stop as often as possible. These boys deserved rest and slept on the ground far too often. Villages also had cooking pots in Wild’s Hyrule, which caused the others’ mouth to water just thinking about it. Wild could create cooking fires pretty much wherever, but he was apparently limited on what he could make. Cooking pots allowed for more complicated recipes and stronger potions than a makeshift one.

Wild beamed and led them along the cliff. Not close enough to be dangerous, but Twilight always feared Wild would see something useful to them and go jumping off a cliff to retrieve it. Like a goddamn toddler seeing something shiny, not using his paraglider until the last fucking minute and giving him a heart atta-

Wild tugged on his sleeve again to gain his attention. Wild’s scars had been acting up today, causing his throat to close up more than usual. He could still talk, it was just harder and hurt more some days. It had become rarer as time went on, but it still happened.

‘Not going to jump’ Wild signed while smirking. Twilight glared at him and swatted the hand away from his sleeve. Wild grinned that shit eating grin wider, and Twilight was pissed his cub knew exactly what he was thinking.

The group continued walking along the cliffside, admiring Wild’s Hyrule and its stunning colors along the way. Wild, although excited, seemed a little rigid, hand resting on his knife.

“Is everything alright, Wild?” Sky questioned.

‘Yes. Lots of rocks for Yiga to hide behind.’ Wild sighed widely for everyone to see. He was about to warn them anyway, he didn’t want them to be caught off guard.

“We’ll keep an eye out.” Warriors confirmed. There was no reason to tell the kid to not worry, that would be a lie.

Wild smiled freer this time and nodded. Warriors was glad the kid didn’t get as frustrated when he couldn’t talk anymore. Wild was finally learning that there were some things that were simply out of his control.

They eventually approached the large arch that acted as a bridge into the village.

"Can this support all of us?” Twilight asked, glancing towards Epona.

‘It's a lot stronger than it looks. I ride across it all the time.’ Wild responded while already beginning to cross, the others following without another moment of hesitation. Wild led the way into the small town.

Upon approaching, the first thing they noticed was a platform in the middle of the town with a statue of Hylia in the center. It always struck the group as interesting that even in Wild’s Hyrule in ruins, people still believe very strongly in the Gods, most likely taking comfort in them. Surrounding along the edge of the island were houses all facing towards the center. That wouldn't really provide any space to build more houses in the future but it opened the door to close knit neighbors. In front of the houses were tables selling arrows by a Rito, gems by a small Goron, and what appeared to be armor by a Gerudo. Overall it seemed very culturally diverse.

"Link!" A hearty voice called out. The group turned to see a man with a head that was… odd to say the least. Like an elongated egg to be frank, with chestnut hair cut in a long bowl cut all the way down to the man’s ears. On his arm was a beautiful Gerudo woman wearing bright white loose pants decorated with yellow swirls, along with a crimson top, the same swirls adorning it. Her bright red hair in a large high ponytail.

Wild waved at them and signed something they didn't understand, most likely their names.

“It’s so good to see you, little one.” The Gerudo woman gave a small smile which Wild eagerly returned.

‘Good to see you too!’ Wild signed to the two of them.

“Who are your companions my boy? And what have they done to travel with the elusive Link?” Hudson teased, laughing loudly at Wild’s red face as the other’s snickered quietly.

‘These are my friends I’ve been traveling with.’ Looking back to Time who usually took care of starting introductions.

“Hello, sir. Please call me Time.” Time stepped forward and shook Hudson’s hand.

“I’m Wind!”

“Hey, ‘m Twilight.”

“My name’s Four”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Warriors.”

“Legend.”

“Hi, I’m Hyrule.”

“Hello sir, I’m Sky.”

“Those are all… very interesting names.” Hudson stared at them.

‘Why, because they don’t end in son?’ Wild signed with a smirk, fingerspelling son at the end.

“It’s Bolson Construction Policy!”

“Okay darling, I believe we do not need to get into this argument again.” Rhodson quickly dispelled the rant she knew her proud husband would get into.

They’re nicknames.” Twilight offered simply. He would ask Wild what he was talking about with the whole ‘son’ thing later.

“Awe I see. Well any friend of Link’s is welcome here. Afraid we can’t give you much of a discount at the inn, we’re still a new village. But I’m sure Kapson will find a way to fit you all in there.” Hudson said in a gruff voice. “I have to go help Monari with her leaky roof. Are you staying long, Link?” Hudson finished.

‘A night or two. Does Monari need help?’ Wild signed. Monari had always been kind to him.

“Oh, Link you’re always so eager to help. Relax for once. You practically built the town, you don’t need to repair it all too.” Hudson chided with a grateful smile.

“Wait… what?” Warriors interrupted from the back. “Did Wild help build a house or something?” During his quest? Was an un added question on everyone’s mind.

“A house? Try the town. Boy got me over a hundred bundles of wood, traveled all over Hyrule to find the exact people I needed, helped me build and paint the houses, you name it.” Hudson finished proudly, looking like he wanted to clap Wild on the back but thought better of it.

“Wild… what?” Warriors looked over at his smaller companion in shock.

“When did this happen?” Twilight looked equally as puzzled. Wind looked as if his brain had stopped working all together, expressive face frozen with his jaw to the floor. Sky also looked shocked.

“You built an entire town and you didn’t tell me?” Hyrule had a look of utter betrayal.

“Damn, kid. And here I thought you couldn’t get more selfless.” Legend’s eyebrows were raised, but underneath he looked impressed and almost proud.

“Don’t challenge him.” Four scolded. They all knew what happened the last time Legend challenged Wild over something innocent and seemingly stupid. They don’t remember much of the challenge itself but they do remember the end result. Wild, with a shit eating grin and three broken bones, cackling as fire rained from above. That was the day Twilight almost went comatose.

As the others expressed their shock, Wild’s face grew as red as an apple.

“Did you not tell them, Link?” Hudson’s voice reflected pure amusement at the young boy’s bright red face.

‘It never came up. I did it mostly after I finished the Divine Beasts, some was before though’ Wild signed before pulling his hood up to hide his embarrassingly warm face.

“Wha- never came up? You helped build an entire town while on your Hyrule-wide quest, and still saved your Zelda in a timely manner along with every other town in your Hyrule?” Warriors yelled aghast, forgetting for the moment that Hudson and Rhodson were probably confused by what Warriors had just said. Wild shrugged.

‘Can I help with repairs?’ Wild asked again, ignoring Warriors’ spluttering and Time’s amused chuckles behind his hand at the rest of the group joining in Warriors’ shock.

“As I said, you should relax with your friends, but I’m sure Moggs and Monari would love to see you!” Rhodson exclaimed, moving her hand from around Hudson’s arm and gripping him by the hand instead, leading the group over to a house near the middle of the circle, just behind a table full of gems.

“Brother!” A rough voice called as they approached the table. A large Goron rolled over, followed by a smaller Goron trailing behind. Once reaching their destination right in front of the group, the two Goron emerged from their balls, revealing an adult Goron with dark orange skin, and the smaller Goron having light yellow. Both of them were wearing bright yellow hard hats.

‘Hi Greyson! Hi Pelison!’ Wild signed with a large smile. He had a hard time with the Gorons at first. For being rock hard people, they were certainly touchy feely with gratitude like Sidon was. Wild knew they meant no harm though, that was simply something he struggled with before he met the other Links. Greyson and Pelison never touched him though, which he was silently grateful for during his quest. Wild did like when the Gorons called him ‘brother’ though, it made him feel a part of something on the lonely days of conquering the Divine Beasts.

‘These are my friends!’ Wild beamed, gesturing to the people behind him. Time softened looking at the proud face as Wild presented them like prized cattle at a fair. It was sweet… in a way.

“Nice to see Wild has someone to travel with him now.” Greyson laughed at Wild’s betrayed expression.

“Yeah! Wild never brings anyone with him into town! I didn’t think he had any friends! Take your hood off, you look like a villain.” Pelison added bluntly, ignoring Wild making a frantic motion to cut it out, the group roaring with laughter. They could tell by Wild’s face he didn’t take any of it personally as he pulled off his hood with an entertained smile.

“Link!” The group looked up to see a light teal Rito approaching Wild.

‘Hello Fyson!’ Wild greeted. Okay, Wild would definitely have to explain what the hell was up with with all the ‘son’ names.

“Hello, my friend!” Fyson replied happily.

‘How’s your mom?’ Wild asked with a kind smile.

“She’s well thank you for asking! Our relationship has gotten much better since she realized I had my own shop you helped me set up! I must thank you again my friend!” Wild tried to wave it off, but Wind wouldn’t let him.

“Oh! Wild helped you and your mom?” Wind asked with wide eyes, while Wild had to resist rolling his own. Wind and his damn puppy eyes. Wild assumed he learned how to use that to his advantage from his pirate crew.

“Oh yes. My mom and I got in constant fights about me taking over the shop, but I wanted to start my own! When Wild was building tarry Town with Hudson, he told me I could set up a shop here!” Fyson nodded at Wild thankfully.

“Oh yeah, same with me. I hated the Southern Mines in Gerudo Town. I’m much happier here since Wild told me about this place and helped Pelison set up his shop.” Greyson clapped his little brother on the back. Even Pelison looked grateful for Wild.

“Yes, Wild told me of this place as well when I was pressured to leave Gerudo Town to find a husband, which worked out very well.” Rhodson smiled down at her husband.

“He also found a Zora Priest for our wedding. He works at the inn now.” Hudson added. The group was shocked. Wild had gone out of his way to help people not only by saving Hyrule, but also personally as well. Going out of his way to help build an entire town for people to feel included. Even though it wasn’t Wild’s idea, he had still helped to execute it.

Meanwhile, as more tales were strung about his good deeds, Wild looked incredibly flustered by all the attention and praise he was getting. Hyrule stepped forward and put a hand on his back. Wild jumped in surprise before relaxing into the traveler’s touch, smiling gratefully. It was hard to acknowledge what he had done for people sometimes. No matter how he was rewarded Wild still just felt wrong sometimes, and Hyrule felt the same way about his land.

“Well, we will let you and your friends settle Link.” Fyson finished the conversation, thankfully seeing Wild’s squirming posture. Wild smiled and waved as the Gorons and Rito went back to their businesses.

“Oh! Moggs and Monari! Let’s go see them and then you can take your friends to the inn and get beds for the night.” Sky continued to look around at the sights before him. Perhaps he could ask Wild for advice, he had to help Sky build a Hyrule afterall. Not now, he didn’t want to overwhelm him. Sky noticed a dog trotting around asking for food on various doorsteps, along with an odd looking horse with packs. Looking closer, Sky noticed it was what Wild called a donkey. On the roof of the house the donkey was at, was a man who seemed to be watching it all from above. Sky yearned to be higher up as well, he missed his Loftwing dearly afterall. He hadn’t had the time to teach all the boys how to fly on one yet. Hopefully that was in the near future.

“Link my boy! How are you this fine day?” This must be Moggs then, Sky thought as he saw a wrinkled old man standing next to a small old woman.

“Oh, Link! How are you?” The woman called. Wild smiled down at them, about to sign that he was fine, before Monari tugged him down and pinched his cheeks. Dear, Hylia. This old woman was doing the most grandmother thing in the book of grandmothers. Wild flushed a bright red as the woman went on about what a fine young man he was for helping her move in, and if he was injured at all. The two elderly Hylians seemed to be frail and a little odd in their old age, but sweet all the same.

Sky looked over at the others. Legend and Warriors were bent over clutching their stomachs and their mouths to prevent them from laughing. Four and Wind were openly giggling quietly and chattering with each other, probably thankful it wasn’t them for once. Twilight and Hyrule looked on with maniacal grins of pure glee, probably planning on using that against Wild later. Even Time seemed like he was having trouble controlling himself. Wild was finally able to gently wrestle out of the woman’s hold.

‘Monari taught me how to make the honey crepe.’ Wild signed, desperate for a change in subject. Luckily, it worked. Although Wild knew he would get teased for this later.

“Really?” Wind gasped. “It’s amazing.”

“I’m so glad you like it.” The old woman smiled at Wind, who stayed well out of pinching distance. The group continued to talk to the elderly couple before saying goodbye to reserve bed at the inn. It was still mid afternoon, but they had learned early on that with nine of them, it was better to ask for beds as soon as possible so there was room for them and a stable for Epona. As the group followed Wild a small distance to the inn, a voice that was somehow the embodiment of snotty noble called out.

“Boy!” The voice called harshly. Wild took a deep breath and turned to the side instead, going to the edge of the village as if it were a routine. The group approached a man with bleached blonde hair, and to the side was a little girl. She had similar features to the man. His daughter then.

‘Yes Hagie wha-’ Wild started to sign.

“You know I don’t care for your common hand motions. Those things are back again! What did you do?” The group bristled behind him at the man’s easy dismissal of their friend. Warriors stepped forward but Wild gave him a subtle look that stopped him. For now.

‘Blood moon.’ Wild finger spelled, knowing Haggis would at least understand that. He could maybe talk if he tried hard enough, but he didn’t want Hagie to hear his scarred voice while it was so rough.

“I don’t care, I’ll give you another down payment to get rid of them. I can always tell by your clothes you need it, commoner.” The man, apparently named Hagie (And wasn’t that accurate), shoved a silver rupee into Wild’s hand. Sky bit his tongue. How dare this man treat Wild this way! After everything Wild had done to help them! Sky stepped forward and put himself between the two.

“We’ll do whatever. Just stop talking.” Sky scowled, reminding Wild of when he broke the Master Sword in front of him. Sky grabbed Wild’s hand and dragged him away from the man, who simply huffed loudly and stalked to the cliff he was sitting on. Legend got the urge to push him into the waters below, but thought against it. Too many witnesses.

“Does he always treat you like that?” Twilight asked his protege, a sound similar to a growl deep in his throat.

‘No big deal.’ Wild signed, looking away from the fiery eyes of his mentor.

“It is Wild. I understand why you ignore him, but you still don’t deserve to be treated like that. Especially after you built the town he’s living in.” Time reminded Wild.

‘Helped build.’ Wild corrected, but it was nice to hear Time say that.

Wild led the group to the inn, only hearing half of the grumbled insults of the rich man on the cliff.

‘Hi Kapson!’ Wild signed once the group was in the small inn. Like the other buildings, it was small, but roomier and homey on the inside. ‘These are my friends!’ Wild introduced them all by fingerspelling their names before asking for them all to stay.

“There’s a lot of you and only two beds.” Kapson stated gruffly.

“We can share, sir.” Twilight stated for the group.

“You could set the mattresses upstairs if you want to do that.” Kapson agreed, asking Time for their payment.

‘I’ll be right back.’ Wild signed to the group after they moved the two mattresses.

“Where are you going?” Four asked.

‘Killing Guardians for Hagie. They never disappeared completely after the Calamity.’ Wild pulled a bow from his slate.

“Woah woah. We’re not letting you go alone. They’re Guardians!” Four scolded.

‘I have my paraglider and I can’t teleport with you all. There’s only two, I’ll be back in 20 minutes at most.’ Wild reassured.

“If you’re not back in 20 minutes, Wind is contacting you with his necklace.” Time ordered. Wild nodded and set out, leaving the group alone in Tarry Town. The group decided to explore the town a little bit more while it was still light out. Outside the inn in front of a nearby house, there was a woman sweeping on the porch.

“Are you all friends of Link?” She called out quietly, barely catching their attention.

“Yes, ma’am. We are.” Time and the rest of the group approached.

“Oh. I was just wondering if you can give him my thanks. He helped my daughter heal. She wasn’t eating healthy, or running around anymore. He gave her something and she was better by morning. I thanked him, but I’m scared that it seems insincere because of my husband.” The woman pointed at the man on the cliffside much to the group's surprise. “My daughter is my everything. Please let Link know he has my thanks.” The woman finished with a bittersweet smile.

“Of course we will.” Warriors responded, floored by Wild’s selflessness once again. The woman thanked them and went inside to cook for her family. The group continued to explore the town and look at the surrounding areas before Wild returned.

“You know. We could drug Hagie with one of Legend’s sleeping potions.” Wind whispered to the group when they were out of earshot from the other villagers.

“Where would we take him?” Hyrule smiled, a truly horrifying look of evil in his eyes.

“Down to the place Wild is getting rid of the Guardians. He'd really piss himself if he woke up down there. You see all the dead ones down there?” Fours blue eyes shined.

“I’d happily volunteer a potion to see that happen.” Legend’s smile was as sharp as a knife.

“Maybe we should blindfold him to make the experience more real and terrifying.” Sky suggested.

“You idiots!” Twilight chided. The other’s almost protested at Twilight ruining their fun before he interrupted them. “How the hell are we going to get him away from his daughter and wife?” Twilight finished as Warriors clapped his back.

“Eh, we’ll figure it out.” Warriors replied. At this point, no one could tell who was joking and who wasn’t. They all remembered Time, and looked to him nervously, half expecting a lecture from their leader.

“Don’t get caught.” Time stated, seemingly impassive. His eye, however, gave him away with a mischievous glint as the rest of the group cheered and laughed.

Wild made it back safe and sound, albeit confused at the mentions of drugging and kidnapping he did not even want to know about at the moment. That evening, Wild and Monari made dessert for their dinner, honey crepes. The group all cheered and thanked them profusely through full mouths, eating far more than their stomachs could probably handle. Even Time stuffed his face full. That night, they all shoved themselves onto the two mattresses pushed together on the floor of the inn. At some point in the night, they all became an entangled pile of elbows and knees.

Twilight slept buried in Time’s shoulder, one arm taken captive by Wild. The rest of Wild was taken captive by Hyrule. Hyrule’s head rested on Legend’s arm. Warriors had curled an arm around Legend and Wind, who shoved himself between them. Both Warriors and Legend would absolutely deny this in the morning. Four curled up facing Warriors, snuggled in with Sky in his sailcloth. Finally, the group had a chance to rest with stomachs full and a good night sleep.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #fluff #Wild #Wind #Warriors #Hyrule #Sky #Legend #Time #Twilight #Four #legend of zelda #loz #Epona #loz epona #swear warning #QoL Story

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reineyday · 5 years ago

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geraskier zoom conference hc's based on that 'and they were video conferencing' post

(this has turned into a fic in point-form oops; also it's more pre-slash 'cuz this quarantine is ongoing and i don't have any specific ideas about how a relationship discussion would go or be handled over zoom haha)

it starts as a group conference call between yennefer and triss and jaskier and geralt probably because yen and triss and geralt run some sort of small business and they need jaskier for something artistic probably (he's a freelancer)

let's say they have some sort of start-up to do with children's education somehow, inspired by ciri, and they want to start a small educational web series and they want music in each episode and so hire jaskier as a composer

geralt is in charge of episode content because this web series is gonna be about mythology and he has a masters in it and has done a fair amount of traveling for it (and lowkey has been learning about different kinds of myrhs and legends and heroes and monsters all his life alongside swordfighting thanks vesemir)

ANYWAYS at first they just talk about work: geralt knows which myths he wants to talk about and how, but can't quite come up with a good narrative because he has a bad tendency to ramble on about very precise specific details that get boring, and he also doesnt know how to set the tone for children despite having one himself

jaskier suggests they make the show centre around a hero that is a witcher who goes off on adventures meeting all these creatures, and jaskier already has some fun ideas for songs

jaskier thinks geralt isnt very forthcoming but he's clearly interested in the project and there's excitement in his eyes when he says ciri will like something they write together

geralt also gets kind of moody about inaccuracies (like a nerd 'cuz he is one lol), and jaskier thinks it's funny and likes to pull his leg by saying they should just change this detail or that detail and that he's allowed bc he's the composer and he's taking creative liberties

about three zoom meetings in, they decide the witcher should have a horse and jaskier says they should give it a name and geralt says "roach" and jaskier laughs and asks about cockroaches and geralt looks... petulant??? and says there are fish called roach too and he meant the fish, and jaskier feels fond and relents and says yes fine the horse's name is "roach"

the next video call they have, they start talking again about work and jaskier's trying not to focus too much on the fact that geralt has shown up with his hair braided but goodness it makes him look softer with the way it pulls back and some strands of hair escape to frame his face

geralt eventually notices and hmms his questioning hmm (and when did jaskier start distinguishing the difference?) and when jask asks about the braid, geralt's face goes EVEN SOFTER and says ciri can't practice braiding on her friends' hair at school anymore so she practices with him and jaskier's like "well fuck that's it this is it ive never even seen him in person but here we are this is a crush oh shit"

the first time geralt laughs is because in one of their meetings, jaskier decided he was gonna be chill and wear a work shirt but just his boxers with stupid cartoon pizzas on them, amd he feels so comfortsble he forgets he's just wesring his underwrar 'till he gets up to grab his acoustic guitar and geralt sounds like he was startled into laughter and yeah, that's right, he's wearing stupid boxers and he flushes but geralt looks pretty amused and jaskier did that so he's not too embarrassed

halfway through the session after that, where jaskier has given up on slightly professional looking clothes but has committed to wearing something over his boxers at all times, he hears some barking and he sees a german shepherd's nose enter the bottom of the frame by geralt's arm

jaskier is obviously like YOU HAVE A DOG and geralt explains ciri usually plays with him during their meetings but they decided to go earlier that day and when jaskier asks what the dog's name is, geralt pauses and looks a cross between irritated and embarassed and then says "roach"

jaskier laughs and laughs and geralt just looks on stoically and it's not on his mouth but jaskier can see the pout in his eyes, but after he's done laughing, all he says is, "like the fish" and geralt smiles a tiny smile and shakes his head and jaskier's a goner, truly

one day, jaskier is caught on trying to find the perfect wording and chord progression for one of the episodes, and focuses on his guitar and keyboard for a while as he toys with this key and that rhyme, and when he looks up, geralt is in a kitchen putting on tea and mixing something in a pot and it's an hour past when they usually hang up

"you could have stopped me, you know?" jaskier asks, but geralt looks at him and hmms and jaskier feels all warm goddammit

he tells jaskier to go take a break and jaskier obliges and brings his laptop to his kitchen and they kind of just have tea together for twenty minutes before something dings and geralt has to go 'cuz it's dinner time for him and ciri

the next meeting, geralt shows up and his daughter's there in the background and she has hair like geralt's and a sunshine personality the complete opposite of geralt (though they both give off disintguished kinds of vibes)

jaskier is charmed; she's a great cheerleader and a wonderful person to run ideas by especially considering she's the target age group for their show, and when she makes a comment about how she wishes she could play the ukulele she got as a gift two years ago, jaskier brightens up and says he can teach her

now jaskier zoom calls a little earlier so ciri can have a short ukulele lesson before his work meeting with geralt, and it's so nice whenever he hears ciri practicing off to the side or roach barking from out of the frame and jaskier wonders what it would be like to truly be in the house with them

the next meeting after, they go a bit too long again bc they were arguing (well, jaslier was actually pulling geralt's leg some more, to be honest, but he can't help it if that's how he flirts), and ciri shows up and says it's time for food and when jaskier says he'll leave them to it, ciri suggests he just stay on amd they can eat together

geralt doesn't immediately say no and actually seems to be waiting for jaskier's answer so jaskier says yeah okay, and he grabs some food and they all have dinner together and they get to talking and jakier and ciri bond over disney movies and ciri says she wants to watch them together the three of them and yennefer and triss

the watch party happens and over zoom yennefer seems deeply amused the entire time and triss keeps giggling and geralt seems extra annoyed for some reason but jaskier enjoys himself and sings along to the movie and he tries not to imagine sitting right next to geralt on his couch on the side not occupied by his daughter

jaskier wakes up with a headache very close to their meeting time one day, and kind of just opens his laptop while he's lying in bed and opens the window to wait for geralt to start the meeting while he reaches over to get his ukulele 'cuz it's the closest instrument to his bed and the easiest on his brain when it's pounding like this

when he settles back against his headbkard and pillows once more, geralt is looking at him with a frown and asks if he's feeling okay, to which jaskier replies he's fine it's not covid he just gets headaches every now and then and it sucks but he can still compose (and he shakes his lil uke at the camera)

geralt says no he should sleep and when jaskier pouts he says he's going to sit here and wait for jaskier to put down the damn ukulele and drink some water and eat a granola bar and then tuck himself back into bed and he looks all fierce about it while he says it and how can jaskier not lug his laptop around while he does these things and fall a little more in love

eventually it becomes totally normal for jaskier to just hang out for long stretches of time, whether or not they talk about their witcher web series, and they cook together and hang out in their pajamas and jaskier and ciri have their music lessons and their disney nights and geralt even starts getting him to work out during some of their work breaks by doing 8 minuts abs

(jaskier was pretty adamant about not exercising but said he's do it just the one time but after 8 minutes of pain, geralt was flushed and kind of sweaty and said he needed to chamge his shirt anf then just took it off right there on the camera before he walked out frame to grab a new one and jaskier had to rush to pick his jaw off the floor before going to change out of his own sweaty clothes and yeah so he does 8 minute abs with geralt sometimes now)

once, geralt sends him a zoom link for a meeting at 2am on a night when jaskier can't fall asleep (his sleeping schedule's been so fucked since quarantine started) and when jaskier joins him, he looks like hell and he apologizes but when jaskier says he probably won't sleep for another three hours anyways, geralt looks the tiniest bit grateful and asks if they can work so they do, and if jaskier writes a song that's a little more like a lullabye dyring their meeting, and feels like his heart is about to burst when geralt, who'd moved from his desk to his couch, nods off while jaskier softly sings to him, well... jaskier doesn't know what to do with himself after he makes sure geralt is properly sleeping and then leaves the zoom meeting

they work and work and really get to know each other and then, all of a sudden, there are no more songs to be written for their witcher series and jaskier says "that's the last song, i think" and geralt hmms but neither of them hangs up

jaskier bites his lip and says, "i'll see you at the team meeting we'll have with yennefer and triss to wrap up my contract, i guess?"

and geralt says, "you should add me on facebook; we should keep in touch for future projects"

jaskier tries not to feel too bummed out because this is still a connection point and also yay more creative projects with the hot man he is probably definitely in love with and also potentially more money! but he's still a little bummed and then he decides if he's going to feel bummed he should at least do something about it and he says, "i will! you know facebook has video chat too"

and geralt hmms again but there's definitely a smile, and it's even an actual smile! "im aware," he says, and then before he hangs up the zoom call he looks stern and adds, "dont forget about ciri's ukulele lessons" and honestly jaskier wasn't expecting to continue with them but he's relieved they can still keep doing those

he shoots geralt that friend request and sates the need to scroll down his wall by going through geralt's past previous profile photos instead (they're usually of him and ciri and they're adorable)

and then, delight of delights, the next day around when they usually have their meeting, there's a video chat request from one geralt of rivia coming through facebook, and even more delightful: geralt's clearly on his phone and he only waits on the screen long enough to make sure jaskier's there and to give him a quirked eyebrow and a trademark hmm before he turns the camera around and jaskier is treated to an outside view and a walk with geralt and roach via mobile

and thus geralt becomes a fixture of his every day life

#geraskier #rei writes #rei rambles #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #long post

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fanfics-arent-therapy-but-idc · 4 years ago

Text

JATP FANFIC

Juke

Fluff

Oneshot

Time and Space

Julie and the boys decide to take a break from the band while Julie gets her bearings at college while they go and explore. Turns out that kindred spirits don’t take well to time and space.

Julie sat on the black swivel chair at the studio, back slightly arched over a keyboard as she recorded a new part to the chorus of a song she was working on. She hummed the lyrics lightly allowing her fingers to make what she heard in her head come to fruition. “Perfect” , she said once she added the keyboard to the song and replayed it. The song was mostly pop with a little bit of soul. It was right on brief as far as she was concerned, but the professors at Berklee were no joke. She just hoped that she did enough for an acceptable grade. After saving the song on her drive, she made her way to her room on 150 Massachusetts avenue. Her roommate, a dance major from Brazil, wasn’t going to be home until 11:00pm, meaning that she had two hours of alone time.

She entered the cozy room with a smile. Alana had turned on the L.E.D fairy lights and she could also smell the faint floral scent of the oil diffuser. She must have done this before she met up with her friends for their weekly Friday dinners . Julie locked the door, sat on her desk, and scribbled a note of gratitude, ending the note with a new Portuguese phrase that she’d picked up from her, “te amo muito”. After placing it on her bed, she began her nightly routine: shower, sing in the shower, wear her comfy pajamas(which consisted of an old, ripped up T-shirt that she had stolen from Luke years ago, and fluffy reindeer pajama pants), check her phone for messages, find out that she didn’t receive any, and ultimately sit on her bed for another hour with her notebook and a pencil. She usually felt most creative around this time, but tonight was not one of those nights. She stared at her phone that was all too proud to showcase her embarrassingly empty notifications list.

At first, the band came to the decision to go on hiatus for Julie’s sake. They had spent every hour of everyday together for two and a half years, cultivating a loyal following and making great music. A needed break, just so Julie could focus on school, was the logical move. Ever since they materialized as real people, they hadn’t spent much time exploring this new world. This was their chance. She mostly attributed the lack of communication to the fact that they probably still had no clue how to use smartphones and ignored the very plausible idea that they might have needed a break from her. She and Flynn spoke more often, but she was easily busier than Julie over at Northwestern with her double major in Performance studies and Film and Media studies.

Sigh. Julie fell backwards onto her bed and closed her eyes, remembering the day she left for Boston. It was still super hot in California, but she had a sweater stuffed into her carry-on for when she landed on the East Coast. The boys drove a separate car that contained most of her luggage, while her Dad, Flynn, and her brother were in another car, blasting the radio. Her father singing the loudest, trying to drown out the pang in his chest, Julie assumed. She was excited to go to college, but she would miss her hometown, her family, Flynn, and the boys. When they parked, the boys insisted on carrying all of the luggage. She had to wrestle Reggie to hold on to her carry-on. The boys wondered at everything they witnessed, none of them having taken a flight anywhere before dying. She distinctly remembers the way Luke smiled and waved at the troupe of pilots walking past them and towards their respective flights. When it was time for her to pass the threshold, her dad broke down, silent tears breaking through. “Mom would be so proud of you”, he assured her. Now it was Julie’s turn to cry. She hugged them all one more time, Luke last of all.

“Hey”, he started, “don’t forget about us when you become a cool, super smart, college student”. Julie laughed so hard that she startled the entire waiting area full of people.

“I promise that I won’t. And just because the band’s taking a break… that doesn’t mean you can’t call, or text, or video call. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Of course, once I figure out how to do that video call thing you’ll be seeing this face once a day”, he promised. Julie laughed again, wiped her tear-stained cheeks, and boarded her flight.

That was three weeks ago. The first time he video called her, the connection was poor, and they couldn’t hear each other. The second time he tried to call, she just got an embarrassingly bad grade on an exam that she had spent all night studying for in addition to being days behind on a project in the very same class. Julie lay in bed cringing at the memory of that afternoon.

“Hey Julie! woah, are you crying? What’s going on are you oka- “

“No- I mean I was, but I- I’m good now, just busy”,

“Oh. Well, what’s up?”

“Uh, nothing much honestly. Just… yeah just super busy”

“Julie, do you need me to hang up?”

“I’m so sorry, but yes. I’m just-”

“Busy? Got it. See you later”

She felt physically ill remembering that day. She had half a mind to text him an apology, but some sort of self-preservation setting inside of her stopped her every time. Knowing Luke, he’d probably texted everyone that she was super busy and not to be disturbed. Maybe that’s why she’s been left on radio silence for a week. Her dad even downsized from his daily calls and he always kept them under ten minutes; even if she insisted that she had more time. She was just about to call it a night when her phone vibrated. She froze. Don’t get too excited. It’s probably from one of your professors.

It wasn’t. Julie blinked and turned the brightness all the way up on her phone. The message read:

🎶Luke🎶: Hey, are you busy?

Julie was quick to respond:

You: No, not at all. Wanna talk?

Just as the little notification popped up to indicate that her message was delivered, there was a knock on her door. She assumed that it was Alana coming home early. She frequently forgot her keys so it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility, but who she opened the door for was completely unexpected.

“Dad! Carlos! What are you doing here?” Standing in front of her door was her dad and brother. She hugged them tightly and to more of her surprise, just outside the doorway was Flynn, Alex, Reggie, and Luke, standing humbly behind everyone else.

“Don’t be mad at us”, Alex said, “Luke made it very clear that this surprise could not be spoiled under any circumstances”.

“But we’re not that good at keeping secrets,” Reggie added.

“So you all decided to ghost me?” she questioned.

“Sort of”, Alex responded quietly. They were all looking at her. Wondering if they had made a grave mistake and if she would slam the door in their faces. She wouldn’t.

“Well… the risk was worth it. I am officially surprised!” she whispered, realizing that her fellow, sleep-deprived, students would not appreciate the interruption. The look of relief on everyone’s face was hilarious.

“Come on everyone, let’s get out of this hallway. I know a good 24-hour diner just around here. They have seats big enough for all of us”, Julie suggested.

“That sounds great Julie, but please tell me that you're getting changed first?” Flynn asked.

Julie remembered that she was in her ‘comfy clothes’. Clothes consisting of Luke’s shirt and Christmas pajamas. “Uhhh, yeah. Give me a minute”. She shut the door, jumped into a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a sweatshirt. “Okay, now I’m ready! Let’s go”.

The walk to the Diner was short, but Julie had learnt a lot. Carlos just started a photography club at his school, Flynn’s roommate, Justine, has an aunt who owns a hair salon, meaning discounted box braids all year. She was really excited about that. Reggie has been surprising fans at local cafes with acoustic versions of the band’s best hits. Alex has been holed up in every museum and library in California and Dad was up to the same old stuff, taking photos, cooking, and whatever old people do, Julie added to her dad’s protest.

“I am not old”, he responded as he pushed open the Diner doors. The place was pretty clean to most city-dwellers standards. The faded blue and yellow banquets surrounded the walls and long wooden tables were placed across from them. Julie took the liberty of snagging a few stools from the counter, seeing as the room was empty. Julie, Carlos, and her Dad sat on the stools while the rest of the crew spread out on the banquets. When the waitress came around she informed them that they were in luck and that there was a fresh batch of maple bacon and regular glazed hot out of the deep fryer. They ordered one of each for everyone, along with a pot of classic Diner coffee and a pitcher of water for Carlos. As they waited for their desserts, the group fell into a lull. Julie took this chance to get into Luke’s head. He had planned an entire trip across the country for her, but he hadn’t said more than twenty words to her since she’d layed eyes on him.

“So, Luke,” she started tentatively, “what have you been up to? Visit any museums lately?”

“Pfft I wish!” her father exclaimed. She peeked over at a mortified Luke and the sympathetic stares of his friends. “I swear all he ever does is sit in that studio, write songs, and sulk”, he continued mercilessly, only stopping when the waitress arrived.

“Here are the donuts. The coffee and water are coming right up”.

“Thank you so much,” her Dad responded kindly. “Now back to what I was say-”

“Julie, can we talk… outside,” Luke interrupted. Flynn and Carlos tried to stifle a laugh that ended in both of them choking on their donuts. Julie was… confused to say the least but she obliged, standing and walking shyly past the door he opened for her.

‘It’s freezing out here!’ She wanted to say to cut the tension, but she knew that the weather was not one of the topics of conversation that Luke had on his mind. They were walking now, taking small steps to nowhere in particular. Luke spoke first.

“So, as your father has so kindly told you, our beloved friends, and the entire Diner staff, I’m sort of miserable without you”.

Julie snorted. “Well, to be honest, I'm not having such a great time without you either. We’re really that co-dependent, huh?” Luke was smiling next to her and she was smiling back. She really did miss his smile.

“Ha, well, you say co-dependent, and I say that I'm deeply in love with you,” he shrugged, “same difference”. What? Julie froze. She was not prepared for this, but one could say that that was just bad planning on her part. Julie still remembers the day when she almost lost him to Caleb. The feeling of absolute darkness surrounding her heart, the feeling of heartbreak and anger. She was way too young to call that feeling love, but looking back, looking at all of the late-night songwriting sessions and the way she lost all ability to speak when he gave her that smile, maybe it was. Maybe it still is. Realizing that Luke was watching her, she tried to utter some sort of response.

“Luke, I-”

“You don’t have to say it back, in fact I'm asking you not to, but just hear me out on this one request. Please?”

“Okay.”

“Let me stay.”

“Where? My dorm room. I think that Alana and my dad might have something to say about that,” she answered, unsure of where this was going.

“Very funny Molina. He was doing his nervous finger twitch. “C’mon lighten the mood Julie!” She chastised herself.

“Right? I should drop out and pursue a career in come-”

“Let me stay here in Boston”, he butted in. She didn’t mind because she could see how much what he wanted to say scared him. “I'll get my own place, I'll work crappy retail jobs when all my money runs out, I’ll busk on the streets for all I care, but I… I need this. He was gesturing at the two of them.

Julie stood there unmoving. He needed her. The sentiment was horrifying and exciting at the same time, but she couldn’t hide her truth when he was showing his off right in front of her. To her, he was that bit of California sunshine she was always missing, the series of sounds that filled the empty part of a song she was producing, he was like the sweet glaze on a soft donut; he completed her. Without thinking, she grabbed his shaking hands and placed them on her cheeks. Like from memory, he was caressing her face. She placed her hands on his face and did the same. For a split second, Julie was sixteen again, in her mother’s studio, holding on tight to what she had left, what she wanted more than anything.

“I need you too, Luke. You're the glaze to my donut.” It was Luke’s turn to laugh now. Julie knew it was a stupid metaphor, but it got the job done and it made him smile.

“Oh my gosh that was terrible”, he teased, putting both hands over his mouth in shock, “how did you get into Berklee?”

“That’s a lot of talk coming from someone who didn’t get into Berklee”, she teased back, arms folded.

“Hey, don’t underestimate me! I could have gotten in had I applied”, he assured her.

“You don’t even have a transcript, Luke.”

“Once again, do not underestimate my skills of persuasion. I managed to get you to let three ghosts live in your studio” he replied.

“Fine. Then apply next semester,” she teased.

“Is that a challenge, Molina?”

“More like an invitation”, Julie looked him in the eyes now, all jokes aside.

“I’ll be there. Always”, he answered.

“Wow. That was, inspiring”, said a familiar voice, “but can we please get back to the hotel? The waitress just warned us that we don’t want to be walking around here after dark.”

Julie and Luke turned in unison to see a paranoid Alex standing in front them. “Oh, and congratulations on the two of you finally realizing that you are literally inseparable. This past month has been torture for me! Now c’mon, let’s go before we get murdered, but for real this time.”

The trio walked back into the Diner with Luke and Julie holding hands. This was met with various cheers, chants, and a relieved “finally”! from Julie’s dad. “Now I can use my studio in peace!”

THE END!

#jatp #julie x luke #julie molina #luke patterson #juke fic #juke fanfiction #team juke #fanfic #julie and the himbos #julie and the phantoms

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skeletonsloverockcandy · 5 years ago

Text

A Hitchhiker’s Guide For Androids

Summary: Logan the Android goes to his interview with Dr. Picani. Afterwards he meets some familiar faces from the day before.

Warnings: Lying, food tw, eating tw, Logan tricks out his rad robot bod, and it seems like it might be gorey, but he’s a robot so it’s fine.

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides, Cartoon Therapy, TS Shorts

Characters: Logan/Logic Sanders, Patton/Morality Sanders, Roman/Creativity “Princey” Sanders, Virgil/Anxiety Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani, Remy/Sleep Sanders.

Pairings: Background Romantic Remile, Platonic LAMP/CALM

Word Count: 8,370

Chapter One Chapter Two Ao3 Link

Chapter Three: New Neighbors

The next morning Logan put on his blue button up shirt and solid color tie. He was preparing for his interview later that morning with Dr. Emile Picani, and he wanted to look presentable. He was also up unreasonably early. In part because he didn’t need to sleep, but also because he wanted to avoid his neighbors for the time being. Due to his actions saving Patton yesterday, they were sure to want to speak with him, and he’d rather avoid messy, complicated, emotional interactions for now. He slipped out of the café before they had the chance to approach him yesterday, and he would prefer to delay that interaction while he still could. He was unsure if his circuits could handle more than one person at a time.

The application he filled out had the phone number of the Cartoon Café on it, and he had taken the liberty to text the number and ask when his interview had been scheduled. Dr. Picani had quickly texted back and informed him of the time, but also that the café was closed that day because of the attempted robbery the day before, and that he would be there personally to check up on the shop. He informed Logan that he was more than welcome to come by and conduct his interview though, that it wouldn’t be a problem at all.

Logan took that as permission to prepare himself for their meeting. Then, since he had some time, he ran through several scenarios focused on the interview. He figured if the typical interview questions were asked, assuming this job required few prerequisite skills, and if he maintained a pleasant demeanor, he had a decent chance of landing the job. A 82.6% chance to be more precise, but since certain things relied on the unpredictability of human behavior, he was willing to put some leeway on the odds depending on what came up.

Finally, he looked through the peephole of his apartment and did a thermal scan to locate the heat signatures of his new neighbors. He wanted to be certain they were not in the hallway when he left for his interview. From what he could tell, Patton seemed to be in his apartment, and Virgil and Roman did not appear to be in the building, so the two of them likely went to their respective workplaces while Logan was getting dressed.

Satisfied that he would not be seen, he set off to leave his apartment building. It would be close, but if he walked at the right pace, he’d only be an hour early to his interview instead of much much earlier. He walked very fast. However, he hoped that showing up early would ensure a good impression. Logan would say first impression if it weren’t for yesterday, and now that he thought of it, he’d rather avoid the possibility of the emotions that might come with them being in close quarters. Well, Patton said Dr. Picani had a PhD, Logan trusted he would remain professional.

“Wow, it’s really you!” the pink and brown clad psychologist practically squealed. “You saved Patton’s life yesterday, I cannot tell you how grateful I am. I was going to find you to thank you yesterday after I checked on my husband, Remy, but I couldn’t find you anywhere. Then next thing I know Patton’s telling me you applied to work here! Whaaaaaaaaaat?! Like, what are the chances?”

“Actually quite high, given that was my intended reason to enter the establishment in the first place.” Logan interrupted, “And, deepest apologies, but would you mind relinquishing me from your embrace? I’m not a very, what is the phrase? Ah yes, ‘touchy-feely’ person.”

“Oh yeah, sure. Anything for our hero over here, ey!” Dr. Picani stepped back and stopped hugging Logan. “I just want you to know grateful I am that you saved the lives, not only of my employee, but of everyone else in the cafe, including my husband. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost any of them, and I have you to thank.” Emile pushed up his glasses and smiled warmly at Logan.

Ugh! These were the exact kind of emotional reactions Logan had been trying to avoid! Not that he didn’t appreciate the recognition, it was just something he didn’t understand that well, and thus, was unfamiliar dealing with, especially when such affections were directed towards himself. He had barely walked in the pink and blue building with the bell chiming over the door when Dr. Picani had stepped out of the back room and immediately came up to embrace him. How did humans deal with this attention?

“Urm, well, you are, uh, very kind. But if I may interject, I came here to interview for the open position?” Logan stumbled out awkwardly. He wished he could have more tact, but this was becoming a bit too much.

“Oh! Yeah, let’s go on ahead to the back room, I’ve already read over your application so you can come right in here.” Dr. Picani responded jubilantly.

After the introductions, they conducted the interview mostly professionally, though Dr. Picani kept making pop culture and cartoon references that Logan only barely got because of his general knowledge of human culture. It went fairly smoothly though. The position required no prerequisite skills, and the skills it did require, Logan could easily be taught. It was a sort of catch-all position because of how short-staffed Dr. Picani and Patton were. They were the only two employees, though they were occasionally helped out by Dr. Picani’s husband, Remy, who Logan gathered was the hipster-esque person in sunglasses from yesterday, if the photos of him and Dr. Picani on the desk in the back room were anything to go by. The back room appeared to be more of an office than anything else, though it did have doors to the food storage and break rooms, so ‘back room’ was the most accurate description from what Logan could tell.

Anyway, for the job, Logan would need to learn how to man the register, cook up the items on the menu, and clean the store. It seemed simple enough, though the job would require him to occasionally step outside his comfort zone. He understood he would have to acquire a “customer service” demeanor, which he figured he could manage. He was already lying to people as it was, what’s a little more? The thing he was looking forward to most was taking inventory and counting the money at the end of the day, most people’s least favorite parts of customer service jobs. It would really give Logan the opportunity to show his prowess with numbers, and, regardless, it was easier than dealing with large swarms of people.

At the end of the interview, Dr. Picani told Logan he did an excellent job and that he’d be happy to see him by the next work day. The general dress code seemed to be just a polo shirt (of which Logan already owned) and a name tag, which Dr. Picani said he would have made for Logan shortly, that he was so happy to have a new member on the team, especially someone who saved Patton’s life. It occurred to Logan that that incident might have helped his prospects of getting the job, but he wasn’t one to complain about fortunate circumstances.

He shook Dr. Picani’s hand at the end of the interview, “Thank you, Dr. Picani, I look forward to working with you.”

“Oh please, call me Emile, it’s the least I could do to conduct this interview after yesterday. Thank you again, truly.” Emile said, unable to keep the bright smile off his face. Logan smiled softly in return as a sign of gratitude.

“Yesterday was no problem, I was just trying to help how I could.” Logan responded. “I’ll see you at work.”

“You sure will!” Emile said warmly, “You’re gonna do great.”

Logan’s journey back to his apartment was pleasant. The sun was out and the buildings looked even more charming than the day before. It was if the world was rejoicing his new found income security. Now with a job position guaranteed, Logan felt he had become truly independent and separated from his previous terms of existence. He could exist for himself now, and do with his abilities what he wanted. It was...refreshing. Quite a relief from the idiotic frustrations of the scientists. For once, he was perfectly happy to go slow and enjoy his walk home.

Walking up the stairs to his apartment, and feeling quite relaxed from how positive the day was turning, Logan failed to run a diagnostic the potential threat of his neighbors being home. And this was brought to his attention by him turning the corner on the stairwell and running straight into Patton.

“Oof!” Patton exclaimed as they collided, his glasses getting knocked off his face and items he was holding now being strewn on the floor (some papers, an envelope, and a ceramic mug with paw-prints that thankfully didn’t break).

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” Patton said as he squinted at the floor. “...If I could just find my glasses,” he muttered, “then I’d be a real sight for sore eyes, because of my sore eye-sight, heyo!”. He laughed as he crouched to the ground searching for his glasses and the other dropped items. Logan stood incredibly still, torn between slipping up to his room while Patton couldn’t see his face, and bending down to help Patton with his things. It was a fight with his programming to evaluate the more pressing need. If he helped Patton, then the person he saved would know he was living in the same building as him. On the other hand, he desired to be helpful to humans, and Patton would likely discover his living situation eventually anyway. Deciding it was better to figuratively rip that band aid off sooner rather than later, Logan bent down and handed Patton his glasses from off the floor.

“Oh, thanks kiddo! Don’t know what I would have done if these had broken. Really sorry about running into- WOAH! Hey! It’s you!” Patton exclaimed as he placed his glasses on his face, beaming up at him. “What’re you doing here, Logan?”

“Ah, of course. Well, you should know that I live here now. I moved in yesterday, though I was unaware of the complex’s current inhabitants when I rented the apartment,” Logan explained in a monotonous tone, “I apologise for disrupting your stairway travel, I will get out of your way.”

“Woah, hey there kiddo. I wasn’t watching where I was going, so if anything, the blame is on me. And secondly, you live here now? My savior, in this apartment? Wow,” Patton said with an astonished half chuckle, “I can’t believe you live here! That’s awesome! Which apartment?”

“That would be apartment 4A on the fourth floor,” Logan answered. Patton gasped excitedly.

“Oh my goodness! That’s the same floor I live on! What a coincidence!” Oh, didn’t Logan know it. Patton inhaled sharply, “Do you know what this means?!” Logan resisted the urge to either roll his eyes or detail exactly what it did indeed mean in literal terms and settled for thinking: I can certainly guess.

“We’re Apartment Buddies! Yay!” Patton practically shouted as he jumped up excitedly, nearly knocking his glasses off yet again.

“Otherwise known as neighbors, I presume. But yes, we will be living on the same floor and in close proximity, though whether we become ‘buddies’ as you phrased it, will depend on the advancement of a mutual bond over time that some might call friendship. However, that has yet to be seen and will take time.” Logan rambled off.

As Logan was speaking, Patton slowly brought up his hands up in loose fists lightly squishing the sides of his face while his eyes squinted behind his glasses and seemed to sparkle with excitement in an almost universal ‘Aww’ gesture, before saying, “Dawww, Logan...Are you implying you want to be my friend?” One hand flew down to his chest and clutched his heart, “That is so sweet, aww..Logan. First you save my life, then you save my heart.”

Oh no, emotions, yet again, Logan thought. He just couldn’t seem to escape them today.

“You know what,” Patton continued, “Why don’t you come over to dinner tonight. It’ll be like a ‘thank you’ and a welcome party all rolled into one! And! I can introduce you to my best friends Virgil and Roman. They’re also our neighbors and they were at the café yesterday too!”

Oh I am all too familiar, Logan thought, and fantastic, more people expressing their emotions at me, this is utterly exhausting.

However, it would be incredibly rude to refuse a gesture of kindness such as this, and he would be living next to these people for who knew how long, so it was impractical to try to avoid interacting with them forever. Besides, this is what humans did. They interacted with other humans. How was Logan supposed to be a convincing human if he intentionally avoided interacting with them?

“That would be...lovely, Patton. I look forward to getting to know who I live next to. Though, I must tell you, I am not the best at dealing with multiple people. I...sometimes struggle to react appropriately to emotional...things, so I apologise in advance.” His only references for dealing with multiple people at once were the scientists after all, and they weren’t the best example despite his programming.

“Oh kiddo, that’s okay. Virgil and Roman are really great and super understanding of all sorts of things. And heck, yesterday, before we got home, Roman couldn’t stop talking about how impressed he was with your maneuvers and bravery. I even think he was a little starstruck, because he kept cursing himself for not saying anything to you after you pinned the guy on the floor. And while Virgil did say you were being a liiiiiittle bit stupid for putting yourself in danger, he did complement you on your quick thinking, and it’s tough for Virgil to complement strangers, so that really means something! I really think they’re grateful for you saving me kiddo, so I know they’ll be super nice about any sensitivities you have about being around them.” Patton concluded.

“Well that is a relief to hear, Patton. I certainly do not want to leave a bad impression. I feel that would be unbecoming of a new neighbor, so it’s comforting to know I have your support.”

“Aw shucks Logan, after what you did for me, the least I can give is my support,” Patton said bashfully while adjusting his glasses.

“Ah, well in that case, I look forward to dinner. At what time would it be appropriate to come over?” Logan inquired.

“Oh! Well I’ll text Roman and Virgil and tell them we’re having a guest over for dinner, then..hmm, is five o’clock okay? I know they’ll both be home from work by then, so it’ll be the perfect time to introduce you,” Patton said thoughtfully.

“That sounds adequate, I will be at your apartment at five. Which apartment number is yours?”

“4C! And Roman’s is 4D and Virgil’s is 4B, just in case you wanted to know!” he said brightly, then he gasped, “I have to get everything ready!”

Logan looked on at him and determined that Patton’s heart rate spiked along with a touch of adrenaline being released into his veins as well as an influx in dopamine levels. He could tell Patton was genuinely excited about him coming over. Logan hoped it would go well given he had never actually eaten food before. It was within his capabilities to pass as a convincing human, but he had never done a trial run to see how he would actually react to having food in his false stomach. Could he even taste? He wasn’t sure. He escaped before they could troubleshoot that part of his programming. He knows that he’d be able to identify the exact components of whatever he was ingesting, but all he could assume he would be able to get out of eating food at his current level of advancement, would be the texture of it in his mouth, and the mess he’d to clean out of his chest cavity later. The thought of the uncleanliness made him internally cringe a bit, but he stayed in check on the outside, keeping his face impassive at his thoughts.

Patton was no longer paying much attention to him either way, instead mumbling excitedly under his breath all he would have to do to prepare while shuffling his picked-up items in his arms.

“Ah, uh, see you later Logan! Got to drop this paperwork off to Sandra, the landlady, then I have to prepare for guests! Ooooo this is going to be so fun! Buh-bye!” Patton said he stepped by Logan, turning to give him a half-wave with the hand holding the mug.

“Be careful going down the stairs, Patton. And I’m sure whatever you prepare will be adequate, see you then.” Logan called out as Patton turned the corner going down the stairs. He sighed to himself as he climbed the last few flights to his floor and entered apartment 4A. What had he gotten himself into?

Now, not only would he be interacting with multiple humans at once, he would also be expected to eat. He had never eaten before, not even in practice. He knew humans needed to do it to survive, but the thought of taking something and having to mash it into little slimy bits in his mouth, then swallow it? Not to mention, his experience with eating would be different than a normal human’s because he had to manually clean up whatever ended up in his false stomach tonight, and the experience couldn’t be made more enjoyable because he was pretty sure he didn’t have a sense of taste as of yet.

Wait, was he getting worked up? Is this what performance anxiety felt like? Regular lying was fine, but this felt like an entirely different ordeal. Snap out of it Logan! He was an android, he didn’t have feelings. So stop acting illogically and prepare for the dinner. He would get through it, further integrate and adapt to human customs, and survive. This was fine. Everything is fine.

Realizing he had just been standing in the entrance of his apartment while leaning against the closed door, Logan walked further into his apartment. This shouldn’t be bothering him. He was a highly advanced, incredibly valuable, and state of the art espionage machine, so something so trivial shouldn’t be bothering him. However, it was bothering him, and he couldn’t seem to get it to stop. So...he was a state of the art, highly advanced, incredibly valuable espionage machine, how could he change the situation so it was less bothersome to him so he could be at his optimum level of performance?

Well, the problem was his concern over the sensation of eating, and that it will be uncomfortable or disturbing to him. He would have to eat regardless, because he could not see a way out of that situation without being incredibly rude. So if he had to do it regardless, how could he make the instance more enjoyable, or at least bearable, to himself? The obvious answer would be to taste the food so he would at least get the same level of enjoyment out of it that the humans did, but that was unrealistic.

...Or was it?

Logan suddenly got an idea, and walked into the bathroom where he knew there was a mirror. Then he rolled up the sleeve on his left arm and peeled back some of the false skin again. Unlike his right arm that had a combination printer and data transferrer for forging necessary documentation and identification, his left arm had some minor tools and resources meant for repairs, as well as access to his wiring when feature updates and small performance tweaks needed to be done. Logan also rolled up his pant leg and opened the panel where his extension cord was, pulling it out and plugging it into the outlet by the sink so he would have a constant supply of power while he did this, should he accidentally make a mistake.

Then Logan reached with two fingers under his jawline and pressed three very particular spots while grasping one of the tools from his left arm, something slender and metal, and lightly pressing it to his temple. The next thing that occurred was a slight hissing noise of pressure being released as his jaw slowly popped open, causing as widening gap between the flesh of his lower face and upper face, revealing, besides his false teeth and cheeks and tongue, a mass of wiring and blinking lights now visible below the line of his top lip. Now with ample room, he slowly reached behind his jaw and grasped an exposed wire connected to his tongue, then reaching up with his tool, gently disconnecting it. He then lowered it to the wiring exposed on his left arm, and inserted it in a place where coding and tweaking that particular piece of hardware would be easier. Taste was simply the body analyzing different chemical compounds, something Logan could do via data analysis anyway, so changing some of his coding to associate a physical sensation along with that wasn’t too far of a reach, at least by his standards. Logan checked the time. Seven hours, seven hours until the dinner party. He would have to be quick, but it was doable. He’d better get to work.

At 4:48 P.M., Logan was finishing putting all of his parts back into place. His tongue felt strange and a little tingly, but he still didn’t know for sure if his tinkering had worked. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, sticking out his tongue and rolling it into a tube like a child might. Everything seemed to be functional and his motor skills seemed to be fine. He unplugged himself from the outlet, actually feeling somewhat rejuvenated from the extra power, and rolled down his pant leg. He assumed what he was wearing would be fine for the dinner, he would just brush some of the wrinkles out of his shirt sleeves and pants. He hoped tonight would go well, and even if his attempt to give himself the ability to taste did not work, it alleviated most of his anxieties and gave him something to do while he waited for the inevitable.

Looking over himself in the mirror one last time, he decided he looked suitable for however this dinner went. Checking the time, he had about 3 minutes until five o’clock, so it would be wise to head over to apartment 4C already.

Logan crossed the hall to Patton’s apartment and knocked on the door.

“Just a minute!” He heard from inside. He only had to wait a moment before the door was flung open and Patton was there grinning brightly up at him.

“Logan, you came! I’m so glad you made it. Virgil and Roman will be here in a sec, I haven’t told them it was you who was coming, only that we were entertaining a guest. They’re going to be so surprised! Come in! Come in!” Patton rambled off as he ushered Logan inside.

The walls of Patton’s apartment were a pleasant shade of light blue, though they could hardly be seen through the litany of photographs and crayon pictures both framed and taped to them. Apartment 4C was larger than 4A and had a small kitchen area that was visible from every angle of the main foyer. It had bar-style seating that separated it from the rest of the apartment and helped cement it in people’s minds as a separate space. The kitchen seemed well stocked for an apartment of its size, even if it was slightly larger than Logan’s, because it had an oven and stove-top combo, a dishwasher, a refrigerator, a toaster, and a countertop microwave. On the counter tops were several covered dishes wafting food-smells from underneath glass containers and aluminum foil, and in the sink were several gray, cat-themed silicone utensils covered in food stains—presumably what Patton had used to cook tonight’s dinner with.

Across from the kitchen area there was an L-shaped couch with the shorter side pushed against a wall and facing a small coffee table and T.V., both of which looked second hand but attributed to the cozy atmosphere. Next to the T.V. was a shelf stocked with DVD cases holding a variety of different shows and movies. And behind the couch and diagonal from the kitchen there was a round dining table already set out with plates, napkins, and silverware arranged in line with the four chairs about the table. And behind the table on the wall were two closed doors. One Logan assumed lead to the bedroom, and the other he assumed lead to the bathroom. Overall, it was a very friendly-looking, if a bit crowded, apartment.

“Welcome to my home! Make yourself comfortable, or should I say at home, wink,” Did he seriously just say ‘wink’ out loud? “And feel free to look at whatever you like! Me casa es su casa.” Patton said with an excited gesture, as if to point at the entire apartment.

“Thank you Patton, that is much appreciated. However, it does seem strange that you want me to ‘make myself at home’ when your home does not have adequate resources to make one such as me.” Patton stared at Logan for a second and blinked before his face split into a delighted grin.

“Oh my goodness Logan! You didn’t tell me you liked dad jokes?” he said with a half laugh.

“What? That wasn’t a joke, and I would hardly make a ‘dad joke’, as you called it, intentionally. I was simply bringing up the impracticality of trying to collect and then assemble all the components that make up my body in your apartment.” Perhaps if he conveyed a confused look his point would be understood. Patton held his mouth and tried to keep himself from snickering.

“Oh yeah, that would mean bringing a whole bunch of body parts here, but you don’t need me to ex-spleen it to you, get it?” Logan sighed deeply. Oh.

“What, you didn’t find that humerus?”

“Humorous? Oh goodness, do you mean the arm bone connected to the radius and ulna?”

“Sorry, am I getting ulna nerves? You might want to say ‘are ya kidney-ing me’. Ha ha!” Logan brought his hand up to his face and rubbed underneath his glasses.

“In fact Patton, the temptation right now is very strong to exclaim ‘are you kidding me’, but it’s fine. I would just prefer we kept the puns to a minimum, thank you.”

“Aw, sorry for teasing, Logan, but I start punning and I can’t stop punning, I was fed to the rules and I hit the ground running.” He laughed at the look Logan gave him before looking down more bashfully and slightly embarrassed, “But, uh, I’ll stop now. I do want to be a good host after all!” Logan adjusted his body language to express relief so his gratitude would be understood.

“I appreciate your considerate nature Patton, and thank you again for hosting me.”

“Aw, you’re welcome. Now you can sit down while I set the food out, Virgil and Roman should be here any second.” Patton said while grabbing a couple of the covered trays. “Roman likes to take his time getting ready and show up ‘fashionably late’, but Virgil is always anxious to be early, so with the two of them scrambling to get ready at a combined pace, they show up more or less on time.”

Logan pulled out a chair while he was listening and took a seat at the dining table.

“That’s very interesting, Patton.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door.

“Oh, that’ll be them now! Just a second guys!” Patton shouted as he put down the dishes he was holding on the table. He brushed off his hands on his pants and went to open the door.

Patton opened the door just enough for his head to poke through so that neither side could see beyond the doorway before speaking.

“Hey guys! So glad you showed up!”

“You know we wouldn’t miss your dinners for the world, Padre!” A dramatic voice proclaimed.

“Yeah, if Cinderella here didn’t spend so much time getting spend so much time getting ready.” A snide voice replied.

“Well if I had a fairy godmother, it wouldn’t take so long would it? We can’t all just ‘poof’ and look beautiful, it takes work to look this good!”

Patton interjected, “Kiddos, come on now. The important thing is that you’re here and we’re going to have a lovely dinner. And don’t forget! We have a guest! I think you’re really gonna be surprised.”

“Uh, yeah Pat, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. You know I’m not the best with meeting new people,” the softer voice said.

“Hey, it’s okay Virge, our guest has told me he doesn’t have the best people skills either, so I think you two will get along just fine.” Patton replied with a sympathetic smile. “Now it’s time to introduce all of you! Oh I’m so excited!”

With that Patton opened the door fully to let in the other two residents on the fourth floor, at the same time revealing Logan to be their mystery guest.

“Roman and Virgil meet—”

“It’s you!” the man wearing a white leather jacket and red T-shirt said, while the man with dyed purple hair just stared wide-eyed, looking at Logan with a shocked expression.

Logan stood up from his chair and walked toward the doorway.

“Hello, I am Logan, it’s nice to meet you.” He was nothing if not one for decorum.

“You’re the nerd who saved Patton yesterday!” the one he assumed to be Roman said delightedly before he was sharply elbowed in the side by the one he assumed was Virgil.

“Ow! Hey! What was that for?”

Virgil glared at Roman for a second before addressing Logan, “Would you excuse us for a second?” and without waiting for a reply, he dragged Roman into the hallway.

Patton laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Sorry about that…”

“It’s quite alright Patton.”

As Logan said that, he turned up his sound sensitivity so he could hear what the other two were whispering in the hallway. He heard Roman speak first.

“What the heck, Dark and Gloomy? What was that for?”

“You dumbass, you saw what this guy did yesterday. He could beat the hell out of you! Not saying that he would but-. And the first thing you do to the guy who saved Pat is insult him!? He could fold you like a lawn chair, God you’re an idiot.” Virgil hissed under his breath. Roman made an offended scoffing sound.

“Hey! I- well, I- Ugh! I am not an idiot. He caught me by surprise! You have to admit he does look like a nerd though, just a bit?” There was another noise of Roman being elbowed in the gut. “Oof! Would you quit that?!”

“Maybe when you don’t try to piss off the guy who took down someone waving a knife in Patton’s face?” Virgil said, pushing the last words through his teeth. It was quiet for a moment before Roman spoke up again.

“...It was really amazing how he took that guy down. Gah! I wish I could have been of more use yesterday. He was just so swift and composed, I was shocked silent--which is a first for me!”

“You can say that again.”

“Anyway, the point is I am grateful he saved our little ball of sunshine in there. I just didn’t know what to say.”

“Well you can start by apologising and then...I don’t know, tell him how impressed you were with him or something. Look, I’m about as emotionally constipated as you are, so I’m not really great at advice on this.”

“Ugh! I will have you know I am great at expressing my emotions, I am an Actor after all.” Virgil sighed upon hearing this.

“Whatever, let’s just go back in there, and be nice, okay?” there was a rasp to his voice that made his suggestion more akin to a threat.

With that the door opened back up, Virgil being the first to speak.

“Sorry about this idiot, won’t happen again.” Roman shot Virgil a glare before speaking up and addressing Logan.

“My sincerest apologies, Logan, was it? I regret my rude behavior in calling you a nerd, (even though you kinda look like one), and would like to introduce myself. I am the one, the only, Roman Prince, at your service,” he said with a deep bow and a wink while Virgil facepalmed, “I hope you humbly accept my gratitude for saving our dearest Patton, without you he would surely be lost to us yet. Truly, your combat skills are unmatched, and you showed great valor and poise. It is an honor to be in your presence.” he finished with a dramatic flourish and a tinge of pride in his voice from his performance. Logan didn’t even need to run any scans on Roman’s vitals to tell he was being overly dramatic, no spike in heart rate could top that. Still, a first impression was a first impression, so he extended his hand to shake as a greeting.

“...You’re welcome...It’s nice to meet you. As I said previously, my name is Logan Smith, and I am the new resident of apartment 4A.” Logan spoke as he and Roman grasped hands and he gave a firm shake. However, at this point Virgil spoke up.

“Woah wait, you’re gonna be living here? On the same floor as us? Right next to me?” Virgil looked a little shaken for a moment.

“Yes..? Is there a problem? I’m not following.” Logan could tell he seemed on edge but he couldn’t tell why.

“No..It’s cool…” Virgil replied as the tiniest bit of blush crept on his face in embarrassment. Patton piped up.

“Don’t worry about it too much Logan, Virgil just takes time adjusting to change.” he glanced at Virgil as he spoke and gave him a sympathetic look. Virgil looked off to the side, cheeks growing even darker with blush.

“Yeah! Charlie Frown over here just doesn’t realise how frickin’ cool it’ll be to live next to a personal bodyguard, though,” Roman interjected, “he does already have a knight in shining armor protecting him from harm’s way (me of course), but I suppose I could learn a thing or two from Mister Jedi Master over here, what with the stunt you pulled yesterday.” Logan gave Roman a confused look.

“Bodyguard? My knowledge of self defense does not make me a bodyguard. But, I suppose I could teach you how I performed that maneuver yesterday at some point, as long as it didn’t harm anything.” Logan conceded with some trepidation, at the possible offer of spending more time with them, which was a risky move. And based on the shocked but delighted look on Roman’s face, apparently offering to teach self defence, in any small way, was the wrong move if he didn’t want more interaction.

“Also, why would Virgil even need a bodyguard? He seems perfectly capable of taking care of himself.” Logan decided to shift the topic back onto the other, much to Virgil’s chagrin if the spike in adrenaline was any indicator.

“...Can we please sit down and eat? I’m kinda hungry.” Virgil pulled up the hood of his patched hoodie and buried his face in it, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Though Logan could see his face growing dark from embarrassment underneath the hood.

“Oh yeah guys! I made lasagna, with a little surprise for dessert, you’re going to love it!” Patton said, coming to Virgil’s rescue.

“Ooo! I love lasagna! You know just what to make Padre!” Roman exclaimed as he pulled out a chair and sat down at the dining table, Logan and Virgil soon following suit.

Patton leaned over the table where he sat down the dish earlier and removed the aluminum foil he had placed over the top. A burst of smell escaped its confinement and filled the apartment, steam coming off the cheese and sauce in whispy ribbons. He cut the meal into squares and put a piece on each of the four plates at the table.

Roman immediately began digging in despite Patton’s warning that it was hot, and as anticipated, he soon began fanning his mouth and saying, “Ah!hothothot!”, then ran over to the sink and filled a glass with water before downing it in a few gulps. Virgil smacked his hand into his face while saying “idiot”, but nonetheless could still be seen smiling under his hood at Roman’s shenanigans.

Logan picked up his fork and twirled it between his fingers for a second, a bit apprehensively, before plunging it into the corner of the lasagna, tearing a bit off of the stubborn pasta and cheese. Then, as naturally as he could muster, while everyone else was distracted and giggling about Roman’s mishap, he slipped the piece of food into his mouth, pulling back the fork clean.

The first thing he noted was the temperature, the lasagna being approximately 151*F, indeed a little too hot for comfort on the human tongue. He felt Roman should have been more cautious. The next thing was the texture, the cheese being stringy and slightly chewy, while the sauce was liquidy and a little chunky from the tomatoes, and finally the pasta was soft and a little stubbornly chewy. Logan felt apathetic to these textures, more focused on how thoroughly he was going to have to clean his mouth from the red sauce now coating his insides. Finally after a tingling sensation on his tongue that felt similar to numbing mouthwash, he experienced the taste.

It...was far more underwhelming than he expected. It didn’t taste bad, but he just didn’t experience a particularly strong way one way or the other. It tasted like food. Like the chemical compositions that made up cheese and sauce and pasta. Though it could be said that it was a miracle that he was able to experience taste at all, he did feel a bit proud of himself for that.

This analysis happened in a matter of seconds after taking his first bite and he chose to release a gentle ‘hmm’ to indicate to Patton he was enjoying the meal. It was polite after all.

A comfortable chatter started to buzz around the table as the other three settled into eating their meals. As Logan continued to take small bites, he noticed the three had a distinct chemistry. He wasn’t sure how this sentiment could be expressed except for the idea that they played off one another well. Each had something that added to the interactions of the others, and Logan found himself occasionally weighing in on the conversation whenever he was addressed, feeling like he added to that chemistry. The atmosphere began to loosen some and he could tell they were becoming less tense, Virgil especially. It seemed the more he talked and interacted with him at the table, the less awkward he seemed when addressing the others, even Logan.

Eventually, over the clatter of forks and light chewing, the conversation topic cycled onto himself.

“So, Logan,” Patton said with a soft cheesy grin, propping his face up with one arm, “tell us about yourself.” Logan cocked an eyebrow.

“What would you like to know?”

Roman cut in, “What brings you to Cardinal Valley? It’s not exactly a well-known locale.”

“Yeah, it’s basically No-where City, nothing happens here.” Virgil added, eyeing Logan a bit suspiciously now that he considered it.

“I disagree, it is far more populated than where I used to live.”

“Where did you used to live?” Patton asked, curious.

“The middle of nowhere.” Logan deadpanned.

“Ha ha, we made that joke already, Courage the Cowardly Dog.” Roman snided. Logan rolled his eyes.

“I don’t make jokes. I lived out in the woods, south of here.”

“Wow, all alone?” Patton said with sympathy in his eyes.

“That sounds like a crazy horror cabin scenario to me,” said Virgil, stabbing the remainder of his lasagna with his fork, “kinda metal though.”

“No, I didn’t live alone, it used to be my...parent’s house, I...don’t interact with them anymore,” Logan said, looking down and fiddling with his fork.

“Oh, I’m sorry kiddo, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,” Patton said with a frown and reached for Logan’s hand to console him, patting it gently where it rested on the table.

“That’s quite alright Patton, you didn’t mean to. And the past is the past, it does little good to dwell on it.”

“Oh, right.” Patton finished lamely, looking down. There was a bit of an awkward lull in the conversation before Roman perked up.

“Hey, Padre, you said there was something special after lasagna?”

“Oh yeah, kiddo, how silly of me, I almost forgot. Now who’s ready for desert?” Patton asked cheerfully, getting up from the table. There was a general consensus of agreement as Roman and Virgil said various “I am’s” excitedly while Logan just nodded slightly.

Patton went behind the kitchen area and opened the freezer, pulling out a large sealed container. Roman gasped before exclaiming, “Patton, does this mean what I think it means?”

Patton gave a singular nod at him before Roman squealed excitedly and bolted to the door. Logan gave a dumbfounded look to Patton and Virgil, confused as to what was going on. To his surprise, even Virgil was giving a mischievous smirk, flicking his eyes to the doorway that Roman left swung open and listening to the jostling and rustling that could be heard next door from Roman’s apartment. As this was happening Patton was unscrewing the lid of the container to reveal a tub full of ice cream.

“Homemade Vanilla Ice Cream! Bone-Apple-Teeth kiddos!”

Roman then rushed back into the room at that moment.

“Got it!” he said panting, a little out of breath, holding up a small jar.

“You know what to do Ro!”

Roman grinned, popping off the lid of the jar and sticking it in the microwave. None of this cleared up Logan’s confusion in any way whatsoever.

Patton pulled out a clean ice cream scoop and some bowls before delicately scooping out a portion for everyone. Meanwhile the microwave beeped signifying whatever was in the jar was done being heated. Roman pulled the jar out, then, taking a spoon, doled out generous helpings of what looked like liquefied, warm, strawberry jelly on top of each scoop.

“Crofter’s, the berry best jelly around!” Roman declared.

“Yeah, it’s my jam.” Virgil chimed in.

Logan groaned at the apparently infectious use of puns, but he had to admit that he was intrigued about all the fuss. Roman and Patton helped pass out the bowls and handed Virgil and Logan spoons to enjoy their ice cream with.

“Have you ever had Crofter’s jelly before Logan?” Roman asked.

“I don’t believe I have.” Before tonight he had never had any food in general, but he wasn’t going to mention that.

“Well you are going to love it. I convinced Patton and Virgil to try it a few years back, and now it’s our thing to basically top every desert with it any time we all have dinner together.”

Logan was skeptical about his potential ‘love’ for this fruit spread product given how disappointing the lasagna experience was, but again, politeness. And, at the very least, he was curious.

“Alright kiddos, dig in!” Patton announced, plunging his spoon into the ice cream and taking a bite, humming in pleasure when he pulled the spoon from his lips. Roman and Virgil followed suit, though Virgil was much quieter when eating than Roman, who kept making ‘Mmmm’ sounds a bit obnoxiously.

Logan spun his spoon between a couple of fingers before dipping it into the ice cream and jelly. Well, it can’t be any more disappointing than the lasagna he thought.

He brought the spoon up to his lips, placing it in his mouth and...and...it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. His eyes went wide in shock as the sweet chemicals washed over his now sensitized tongue. It was...it was...invigorating. He began taking more spoonfuls and putting them in his mouth. Who knew jelly could be so good?

Logan didn’t notice the others were staring at him. Patton was covering his mouth trying to keep himself from giggling, while Roman had a proud look about himself and kept glancing between Virgil and Patton while he ate. Virgil on the other hand kept looking down and pursing his lip to keep himself from smiling.

Logan didn’t look up until his spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl and the last of the ice cream and jelly was in his mouth. He sucked off the remainder of the jelly from the spoon and smacked his lips, only then realizing he was being watched.

Oh no, his lips were sticky and covered in jelly and vanilla ice cream, and there was some dribbling down his chin. He didn’t have any blood to cause a blush, but he did feel his face begin the heat. He put down the spoon and covered his mouth with his hand to hide the mess.

The three others were grinning at him with varying degrees of humor.

“Wow Specs, you had been kind of stiff all night, who knew you just needed some Crofter’s to loosen you up?”

Logan averted his gaze from Roman, instead choosing to stare at the woodgrain on the table.

“I apologise, that was berry- I mean very unprofessional of me.” What was wrong with him? Did the sugar cross some wires or something?

Patton gasped delightedly.

“Oh my goodness Logan, you punned! You did an almost-on-purpose dad joke!”

Logan felt like disconnecting his head from his body and burying it under a pile of rubble, but he settled for taking his napkin and wiping his mouth clean from the food stains.

“I did not pun, not on purpose, so it doesn’t count.”

“Oh, I think it counts,” Roman said.

“Anyway,” Logan cut him off, “you were right Roman, that fruit spread was enjoyable. ...More so than I expected, apparently. I might go so far as to say it was the best thing I have ever tasted, which would not be an exaggeration.”

Roman looked as if he had just gotten praise from Gordon Ramsey himself, before getting a slight jab in the arm from Virgil’s elbow.

“Don’t look so surprised Princey, everyone loves that stuff.”

Roman made an offended noise.

“Well, it was still a good idea on my part, and Logan seems to like it so I say that was a 100% success.” He stuck out his tongue to Virgil, and in response Virgil flicked him on the forehead.

“Ow! Hey! Have at ye, foul fiend!” Roman yelped as he grabbed his spoon and started making sword fighting gestures at Virgil, who grabbed his spoon as well, a smirk creeping onto his face.

“You’re on.” before inevitably,

“Kiddos,” Patton said giving them a look, “we do not fight at the dinner table, it’s rude!” Roman crossed his arms, muttering under his breath something that sounded suspiciously like ‘whatever dad’, before he and Virgil sheepishly put down their spoons. Logan spoke up.

“Well, Patton this dinner has been lovely. Thank you for having me. And you two,” he addressed Roman and Virgil, “It was wonderful to meet you officially, thank you for trying to make me feel welcome.”

“Woah, leaving so soon Specs?” Roman said. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“We live on the same floor as him now, we’ll probably see him all the time.”

Patton beamed at the compliment he’d been given and piped up,

“Aw, thanks Logan. I love getting to know new people, and I sure do hope I’ll be seeing more of you soon.”

“You will Patton. Before we ran into one another earlier, I had just gotten back from my interview with Dr. Picani, and he said I’d been accepted into the vacant position.”

“You got the job?!” Patton squealed excitedly, “That’s awesome Logan! That means we get to work together!” He jumped up and hugged Logan, who stiffened, but softly pat his now co-worker’s arm in gratitude.

“Congratulations man,” Virgil said, waving a small salute.

“Erm, yes, I got the job. I assume you’ll figuratively ‘show me the ropes’ (if that’s the correct phrase) on my first day?”

“‘Course Logan, anything! Just ask,” Patton answered with a smile, releasing Logan from their hug.

“I’ll be sure to take you up on that offer Patton,” he said looking him in the eye, before turning to all three of them.

“Farewell, I will see you all again soon.” Logan said, walking up to the door and opening it before turning slightly to administer a brief wave. Patton and Virgil waved back, Patton very enthusiastically. Roman, meanwhile, gave a deep bow as Logan opened the door and replied, “‘Till we meet again,” with a wink.

Logan rolled his eyes, smiling slightly, and closed the door, walking over to his apartment. He had a lot of cleaning to do on his insides, which would not be fun, but, he had to admit, the night had not been awful. It was actually pleasant, if somewhat entertaining. Logan was looking forward to recharging, though. It had been a long day. However, he was reassured by the fact that he might actually come to like his new neighbors after all.

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infpisme · 6 years ago

Text

Why Routines Are So Important For INFPs (Even Though We Hate Them)

There’s one word that’s debatably more terrifying to us INFPs than Voldemort and Freddy Krueger combined.

ROUTINE.

But… why?

We’re described as the “children of the Myers-Briggs world” — we’re leaves blowing in the breeze, happy to glide along wherever the wind takes us. Creating (and not to mention, following) a schedule basically goes against just about every core value that we stand for: autonomy, options, freedom.

But what if I told you that it’s not only a good thing for INFPs to have a routine, but that it’s downright necessary?

Wait — not so fast. Before you hit the “X” button, hear me out on this one.

When I graduated with my Master’s degree two years ago, I had a minor mental meltdown, to put it lightly. After having spent over two decades of my life in an extremely structured school environment, I was finally free. The options were endless. I could do whatever I chose, whenever I wanted. Which was great… right?

Nope. Not so great.

My fleeting sense of liberty soon turned to utter cluelessness. Suddenly no one was telling me what to do. No advisors. No schedules. No structure.

Who even was I anymore? I tried my best to swim rather than sink, but let’s just say that the Titanic and I were starting to have more and more in common.

After lots of pondering, countless therapy sessions, and an existential breakdown (or two), I figured out the key reasons why INFPs like me absolutely need routines in their lives.

5 Reasons Why INFPs Need Routine

1. If left to our own devices, we may self-detonate with creative outbursts.

Our vivid imaginations and diverse and quirky interests are the perfect recipe for spending hours on end doing whatever sets our hearts ablaze. INFPs are dreamers who spend a lot of time in our own heads, and don’t all of those half-cooked ideas have to see the light of day at some point?

On especially emotional days, all I want to do is fine-tune my Shakira impersonation (spoiler alert: yodelling is hard) and peruse Reddit all day long. And don’t get me wrong — things like this are cathartic and even necessary for us INFPs. But when I forget when I ate last or what the heck sleep even is anymore, that’s a pretty solid indicator that I’m losing sight of the bigger picture and that my routine could use a major makeover.

2. Many INFPs choose flexible lifestyles, and routines can make all the difference.

When choosing a college major, I immediately nixed any options that would cement me into a rinse-wash-repeat routine. And I’m not alone here — a lot of INFPs avoid monotony like the plague and intentionally choose a flexible work life. Freelancing and working as digital nomads are fairly common for INFPs, since these frameworks are as go-with-the-flow as we are. I’m living proof: I’ve freelanced for the past few years as a Spanish tutor and translator, and my travel bucket list is growing longer by the day.

But is this type of lifestyle truly all margaritas on the beach and answering just the occasional e-mail? With the sweet freedom of being your own boss comes the colossal responsibility of time management and prioritizing, a.k.a. two things INFPs hate. Just because our corporate cats are away doesn’t mean we INFP mice should play all day! A little structure in our routines can make all the difference.

3. Routines can be a form of self-care.

Let’s look at one well-known INFP: Holden Caulfield from The Catcher in the Rye. Yes, he was a teenager in the book, but he illustrates a common theme that many, if not all, INFPs experience during their lifetime: disillusionment with the world around them. I mean, let’s face it — the world can be a lot to take in for anybody.

However, research shows that introverts as a whole run a higher risk for depression compared to extroverts. We INFPs are especially sensitive creatures who hold our values very close to our personal identities, so it’s no wonder that the real world can majorly bum us out from time to time. Building a routine that focuses on sleeping well, exercising regularly, and trying to eat healthy is one of the best things an INFP can do for a daily dose of self-care.

4. Sticking to a routine actually gives us more free time.

When I started getting serious about keeping a stable daily routine, I suddenly realized that I’d wasted a lot of idle time when I didn’t have a schedule. I used to spend half my free time worrying about how I was being so unproductive, thus eating up hours that I could have actually used productively (a self-fulfilling prophecy at its finest!).

When I decided that I needed to clean up my act, I was suddenly getting more freelance projects, spending more time with friends, and finally making progress on the guitar. Also, the first draft of my first fiction novel is well on its way to becoming an actual published book. I know I couldn’t have accomplished half of these little personal triumphs if I hadn’t given myself a bit more structure.

5. Routines make you feel like you’re working a bit more with society instead of fighting against it.

As an INFP, my inner rebellious nature and against-the-grain views can make me feel pretty isolated at times. But going entirely against society by not following any sort of routine was an exhausting uphill battle that was starting to wear me down (big time).

Then it dawned on me: I can still be my eccentric self while also following a routine that fits me. I didn’t have to give up who I was to follow a routine, and life honestly became a lot easier once I found a schedule that worked for me. I like to think of this as INFPs flowing along with the current of life, only they’re wearing their own unique, funky bathing suit for the ride. It’s all a balancing act, and a fun one at that.

Let’s face it: This whole “adulting” thing is hard enough, but it can feel exponentially harder when you’re a spontaneous, daydreaming INFP. We tend to not only fall off the wagon — but get full-on trampled by it — if we have no structure in our lives.

So, what do you have to lose? Try setting a schedule and see if you like it. And don’t fret: You don’t have to follow your routine to a “T” — INFPs are far from being Type A personalities, after all. You want to snooze your alarm three times before getting up? You need to practice your new tai chi moves during your lunch break? Go for it. Establishing a routine isn’t about turning yourself into a cookie-cutter robot — it’s about finding your own unique balance between kooky and productive.

Nothing can take that special, mystical INFP glimmer out of your eye. Not even a routine, I promise.

Source: Darcy Ritt

#darcy ritt #infp #infp personality #infp advice #infp problems #infp things #infp struggles

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symphonic--chaos · 6 years ago

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Based off of the Alternate Universe episode in Season 1. Got some Magnus/Alec personality swap and creative liberties due to lack of further detail in the episode. Also some flirting, making out and all around cuteness.

I think we all need this after the trainwreck of our hearts during tonight’s episode.

Thanks to my boo’s, @scarred-jade-dreams , @headofthenewyorkinstitute , and @britterzthecookie for being my cheerleaders. 🖤

~~~~Then~~~~

A certain level of cockiness resided in him from his self made ‘success’ in being a psychic, in letting people get starry-eyed over their love readings from his ever so faithful cards, or, if he was in a mood, startling them with something that wasn’t so pleasant just to get the seat empty. They always came crawling back anyway, junkies for their ‘future’, the lot of them. Still, it was something to keep him busy, something to keep the roof over his and the cats’ heads, and it was something he knew he was talented enough to sell. The girl who came to him, Clary, she had been the start of something new, something strange. She had given him a push into a life he’d long since put aside and almost forgotten, one that he would still hide even if he were to finally be one with it once again.

To feel the electric crackling in his fingers, the one that warmed them and urged him to do something with the powers that once lay dormant since he was a child, it was nostalgic. A piece of his childhood that he never knew how to harness and use to his will. Something he’d grown frustrated with trying to learn alone while having to hide it from his family, who surely would never understand. With this awakening, in his willingness to assist her in her quest to find someone in her dimension, he’d met him; he who was forward and handsome, seemingly cocky and so sure in his own way. 'Alec’ as he’d introduced, though as of what he’d heard up to this day, most people called him Alexander.

Alexander was a name that seemed as high class as the clothes the taller male wore the night of the party in the institute, the room void of the fashion artwork and clothes on display as the rest of the building was full of. Alexander was as sharp as the jawline Magnus’s eyes couldn’t tear from, which matched the equally fine cheekbones sitting high below stunning bright eyes that contrasted the styled black hair atop his head. Wit came from a smirking mouth, which spouted flirty words that he never expected, leaving him sputtering and wondering if he realized who he was speaking to. A no one, just him, Magnus Bane, the psychic of Brooklyn. The psychic that had spotted Clary and left behind the man that truly belonged in the institute rather than a law office, a piece of artwork that he’d never seen in anyone else in his 27 years. Alexander was perfect and he knew it.

Fast forward to a Tuesday months later, they found themselves in the same vicinity again, and Alec decided that Magnus’s way home would also be his own, tagging along to grab a train once they arrived. Those plans diverted as Magnus had, rather slowly, asked him if he wanted to come up for tea or coffee, shooing the two meowing cats away from the door as he let them in. It seemed Alexander– no, Alec, didn’t lose his flirty nature towards him, and Magnus certainly became no less flustered towards it, only amplifying as the other scrawled his number on Magnus’s palm, closing his fingers over it.

“Wait, wait! This is a fountain pen…” He had called after Alec as he started leaving, opening his hand to show the smudged number.

It was a needed laugh between the two to break the small nervous tension that had come between them, the number instead written on his arm despite the offer of a notepad. It was a number he’d stared at for a long moment even as the door shut behind Alec, only to be startled out of it moments later as a knock had interrupted the silence. The unexpected kiss that was planted on his lips once he opened the door had him both shocked and pleased- Alec’s lips felt just as nice as they looked. He knew he’d stared at them too much while they spoke for that hour or more before, the same way he noticed Alec had been looking at his own when he had found himself flirting back, both giving away their thoughts though neither acted on it. It had been his first kiss, his first real kiss, considering he hadn’t found anyone interesting enough to date, much less kiss, and he wasn’t into meaningless mingling. This was likely the cause of the kiss, as he could still see Alec’s shocked face in his mind from when he’d told him during a vague discussion they’d had about relationships, how Magnus said everyone was probably fawning all over Alec.

Just like that it was over and Alec was giving that award winning smile, retreating as he reminded him to call. Magnus’s reaction, naturally, was to smile stupidly as he shut the door, standing there in thought and still a little high from the endorphins and adrenaline that kiss gave him. As he turned, the keys on the kitchen island caught his attention, he knew for a fact they weren’t his, and he could also recall Alec’s jacket there during the time they spent together. The number on his arm was quickly dialed and, despite knowing just who would pick up, he still felt breathless as he heard Alec’s amused voice pick up, though that amusement dropped once he heard that his keys weren’t in his possession. “I’m halfway to the station, hold on.”

Instead of waiting, Magnus was already out the door and headed down the stairs with the keys in his hand, the front door pushed open with ease as he headed towards the station. A short walk from his apartment, something he had loved about it due to the ease of transport, it didn’t take him long to spot Alexander and hand him the keys. Their hands had lingered, his fingertips brushing Alec’s palm while the others were touching the soft underside of his wrist. It was like that familiar spark all over again, the electricity produced by his abilities was instead given by the man in front of him and, just like his urge to do something with that power, he felt the urge to do something about their spark. He moved in and kissed him.

Alec didn’t go home that night, his bed instead replaced by the bed in Magnus’s guest room after a night of more talking, learning about each other, and more importantly, those addictive kisses. But what was most important of it all was the date planned for later that week, something that had him more excited and nervous than he’d been in a long, long while. Something discussed after they’d met up in the kitchen over the breakfast Magnus had whipped up, finding it strange to be cooking for two rather than himself.

“Friday night, 7:30. I’ll be here at exactly then, I’ll pick you up.”

~~~~Now~~~~

The car clock read 12:57am and Magnus was nearly squirming of excitement in the driver’s seat as he steered towards Alec’s parents home, loving every second of driving the car that cost more than a couple years rent for him. He had nearly choked on his drink when finding out it had been an early college graduation present, which Alec was set to finish in May- perks of well paid parents who loved their hard-working son. Still, he was honored that the other had trusted him enough to drive it and have fun in the busy, crowded streets of Manhattan. Their stop at the house was quick and near silent, and it wasn’t the first time he’d been snuck in, so that Robert didn’t hear that his rules of ’none of your girls or boys in your room under my roof’ were broken, despite his son being almost in his mid-20’s. Maryse was even there, giving a small wave and a mouthed 'Hi!’ from her doorway.

Unbeknownst to him, she’d seen him there on Thursday morning at 2am, when he’d shown up suddenly at the doorstep and saying he couldn’t sleep and Alec was the only person left he could think turn to. Catarina was at work and his other friend, Dot, was traveling to see family. A shy smile was given as he lifted a hand in a small wave, clearly embarrassed by being seen sneaking around with her son when they weren’t even an item, and also before he’d even really been introduced to her. Magnus waited patiently against the wall of Alec’s room, staying out of his way as he moved around to collect an overnight bag, trying to be more prepared than he had been Tuesday when he had to wear Magnus’s too small clothes to bed. As quickly as they had gone in, they were back out and in the car, headed to Brooklyn where Magnus’s cats were surely throwing a party, assuming he wouldn’t be home. At least that’s what he liked to joke about whenever he was gone past midnight.

I like my coffee in the morning, I like my whiskey in the evening, yeah. I like it when you say you miss me- Maybe it’s because I’m really needy, yeah.

One day I’ll take you to the stars, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car. I promise not to go too far, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car.

The song on the radio was catchy and cute, upbeat and a nice change from the slow melodic music that the previous DJ had been playing, it succeeded in getting Magnus’s fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel and he swore he felt a light tapping on his thigh where Alec’s hand rested. It made him think as he focused on the road, they hadn’t kissed since that Tuesday night. Something had come over him, something that made him want to test if this was really just some fling that Alec was looking for despite his assurance that he really wanted a true date.

“No, no more kisses. Not until after our date on Friday.” Ringed and painted fingers gently rested on Alec’s lips, which were just mere inches away from his own, sufficiently blocking the pairs from touching.

“But–” The other had started in the faintest of whines.

“No, none!” Magnus had laughed, instead pressing a kiss to the back of his fingertips as if that would satisfy Alec.

Magnus glanced over just briefly at Alec, his date watching the scenery around them as they passed and looking rather nonchalant about the way Magnus zipped through the streets at a speed a tad higher than permitted. He could see how post-date he’d become more relaxed, the red blazer jacket open wide and the first few buttons of the red and white checked shirt had been undone, untucked from the blue jeans he wore. He watched as Alec’s tongue darted out over his bottom lip and he could only wonder if he was thinking the same thing. Just as those days had been torture on Alec, they had surprisingly been the same for him. While he didn’t care for or dabble in drugs, it seems he did now when it came to an addiction of not getting enough of the others lips. How worrisome, he’d thought.

I like it when you say you want me, I don’t mind it when you say you need me now. Scares me to think about the future, I don’t like to picture it without you there.

One day I’ll take you to the stars, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car. I promise not to go too far, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car.

As they neared his apartment building, he realized that Alec wasn’t tapping on his thigh anymore, rather, he’d started faintly squeezing it along with the lyrics to the chorus. It was almost endearing, and due to this realization it only took him a short moment before he would take action. A look in the rearview told him that no one was behind him and a park to their right, he pulled over swiftly and earned a confused noise from the passenger seat and an equally questioning look from Alec. The car was just barely thrown into park before he turned in his seat, taking Alec’s face between his warm hands and pulling him into the kiss he knew they’d both been craving.

It was almost as if Alec had caught on quickly the minute Magnus’s hands were on his face and Magnus was thrilled when he was met over the center console, saving him any embarrassment of launching himself over it. The kiss was a mixture of hungry and greedy, his mind racing over the way Alec’s hands snaked their way up, one curling around the back of Magnus’s neck and the other cupping the arm that rested on the console as if to hold him steady, solidify his place there. It was a kiss that said ’this is mine’ on both sides, yet one that told Magnus that he wasn’t being played as he thought, that Alec’s intentions were true. Magnus’s breath escaped short and hot as the kiss deepened, feeling the warm, damp swipe of Alec’s tongue over his bottom lip, only to be followed by the blunt edges of his teeth, tugging, teasing… but just as before when sneaking out of the house, it was over as quick as it began. Still, their lips lingered, barely touching, and a smile formed on both as Alec rested their foreheads together.

“Let’s… Finish that kiss at my place.” Magnus said once he’d cleared his throat, forcing out the words as all his resistance was used to hold back. This was his, finally. Someone who caught his interest, who chased and let him play coy and make him work for it; someone who did just the same and gave Magnus a thrill. This was his Alec, and he was no longer Magnus Bane the psychic of Brooklyn, he was his Magnus. Alec’s Magnus.

One day I’ll take you to the stars, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car.

I promise not to go too far, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car.

#malec #1x10 #magnus bane #alec lightwood #grammar may be trash #be nice #my fics

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