#takes me a while to feel like I’m actually getting adequate air into my lungs

[siriusly-mckinnon]

Maybe I’m just feeling melancholy on main but it makes me awful upset to still struggle to catch my breath 3 months after I was sick. Wear your fucking mask

#personal #me #covid mention #covid #I was sick in October #and I still wake up awful breathless #takes me a while to feel like I’m actually getting adequate air into my lungs #so kindly go fuck yourself if you think covid is a scam #or that it’s not that serious #or that you’re somehow exempt from mask wearing #it’s shit having it and it’s shit after it

[tobi-momo]

"AFTER YOU'VE READ ANGST"

PAIRING: Kageyama Tobio x Reader

GENRE: Comfort | FLUFF!!! | Established Relationship AU

WARNINGS: none i think

A/N: this is for tee's collab collection!! (not tagging bc my post not show up in the tags 😭) i hope this is adequate <33

“Babe.” He strides into your shared room, stopping himself at a double take and a furrowed brow when he sees your dramatically sprawled body on top of the sheets. “Babe.” You groan loudly in your pillow, whining as you flip yourself over to face him. He continues his walk to you with a suspicious glint in his eyes, setting himself down next to you on the mattress. “Please tell me you didn’t—”

“He died.” You cut him off while straightening your back to sit up, throwing your hands in the air. “He died! I can’t do this right now, I might—”

“W-who?” He stutters in confusion, trying to catch up. His head shakes as he processes.

“The guy in my book! You know, the one I’ve been binge-reading!” He slowly nods along in eventual understanding, scooting himself closer to your distraught figure. “I mean, what am I supposed to do now,” your voice shakes slightly as you think about it, your lips starting to quiver at the image you put in your mind. You look up at him with doughy eyes, your bottom lip poking from your frown that tugs tightly at the corners of your mouth. “H-he just— he shouldn’t have died,” you sag, shoulders slacking and back aching forward. Your head lands on the firm wall of his chest— the smell of fresh laundry flooding your nose giving you something to focus on and the warm pressure of his uncertain hand on your back letting the air in through pass through your lungs easier.

He sighs when you wrap your flimsy arms around his waist, dragging his form impossibly closer. “Y/n.”

“Hm,” you hum into his chest.

“I’m gonna fall.”

“Mm,” you respond with an obvious smile before pulling his body once more, relishing in the yelp he made as his body slid off the mattress. The back of your head hits the floor with a thud, Tobio’s hands plant at the sides of your face while his knees hit the ground. Your legs wrap around his torso for safety, clinging onto him like a jungle gym with an uncontrollable laugh. His breath almost turned into a chuckle with his smile— a reckless, ungated smile that seeped through his whole body when he heard your giggles.

“Feel better?” He asks while brushing the stray hair from your face, scanning your face for any signs of imperfections— of course, he never found any— and letting his hair tickle your forehead as his head dangles above yours.

“Yeah, actually. I do,” you laugh, the sound guiding fluently through his ears and replaying in his mind.

“You better. You could’ve died, or something.”

“Tobio,” you slap his chest playfully, “I was not going to die.”

“I don’t know,” he says facetiously, “you might have.”

“Well good thing you were here to save me,” you sigh and throw your head back theatrically, smiling at the obvious roll of his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Wait,” you stop his motions before he could get up from on top of you. His head turns towards you as he halts. “Can you read the book,” you plead with begging eyes, wavering your head with his when he shakes it. “Please! I want you to feel my pain.”

“I am not reading that.”

You huff, “whatever,” before rotating your head away from him— although not enough to escape his sweet lips that connect to the crown of your head.

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#teesumu's after you've read angst collab #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #kageyama tobio #kageyama #haikyuu x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama x reader #haikyuu x you #kageyama x you #haikyuu x y/n #kageyama x y/n #haikyuu fluff #kageyama fluff #haikyuu comfort #kageyama comfort #haikyuu drabbles #kageyama drabbles #haikyuu scenarios #kageyama scenarios #haikyuu imagines #kageyama imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #kageyama fanfiction #haikyuu headcanons #kageyama headcanons #momo<3

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Three Nights (Unconditional sequel)

Night Two

05/25/2021

Pairing: August Walker x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 1,807

Warnings: hormones, sex during pregnancy, fingering, vaginal sex, slight dom!August, dirty talk, language

Summary: In the middle of her second trimester, Mrs Walker is a hormonal mess. One night, she finds herself in dire need of release, but August just won't wake.

A/N: Next part of the sequel coming right up and things are getting a little steamy...

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

(I couldn't find the source of this picture, so if anyone happens to know, please tell me.)

“August?”

Expectantly she listened into the silence. Nothing. Well, at least if one didn’t count his steady breathing and the rolling of the waves in the distance.

“August,” she tried again, a little louder this time. But still he didn’t move. Measuring her options, she watched his face in the pale moonlight that fell through the open windows. He looked so peaceful, and she envied him his deep slumber. How was he not even sweating in this clammy heat?

Finally, the curtains swayed in a breeze of night air, making her hope for a little refreshment, but it only brought more of the sweltering humidity. With a thud, her head fell back into the pillows, underlined by a frustrated sigh. Slowly her hands drifted over the already rather prominent bump that had once been a delightfully squishy part of her body.

“You know this is really only your fault, right? As if the bloody nausea hadn’t been enough in the first place, now you decide to torture me with everlasting horniness instead. Is it too early to say that you’re taking after your father completely?”

But instead of an answer, another gush of wind rolled over her sensitive skin, the sensation alone enough to make her moan as it coaxed another wave of desire to roll through her. This was insufferable, she thought, as she propped herself up on one elbow again. Why wouldn’t he just wake up? At every other time, he picked up on her horny state with the precision of a bloodhound. Damned be his stupid sound sleep.

She bit her lip as a thought crossed her mind. She would most likely regret this and in the end it would probably hurt her more than him. But desperate times demanded desperate measures, and by now she was willing to do almost anything if he only tended to her need and got his dick inside of her promptly.

“August!” she almost yelled and with a swish, her hand cut through the thick air until it came down on his cheek with a harsh slap.

Roaring at the top of his lungs he was wide awake in an instant. And before she could fathom what was happening, she found herself on her back, wrists pressed into the pillow next to her head by his strong hands, furious eyes glaring down at her wildly.

“You’re lucky you’re carrying my child, woman, or you might have found yourself bend over my knees by now to receive your adequate punishment.”

She could feel her walls clench violently around nothing by the mere thought of him having his way with her like that. And before she even had the chance to hold it back, a needy whimper escaped her lips.

“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, very much.” She bit her lip again and it didn’t escape her notice how his grip on her loosened a bit, his eyes softening equally upon her eagerness.

“Is this why you woke me up?”

She nodded, shooting him a perfect pair of doe eyes. “Bloody hormones won’t let me sleep, Augie.”

With a huff, more of the tension left his body. “At least that would explain why you thought it wise to slap me awake.”

“What else was I supposed to do? I did try the nice way, but you just wouldn’t wake up and my panties are literally soaked.”

He growled lowly in the back of his throat, making her clench even harder.

“Are they now?”

Careful not to put his weight onto her body, he clutched both of her wrists in just one hand. He grinned smugly and she knew immediately that she was in trouble. The best kind of trouble. And while she still couldn’t believe that her ludicrous plan had actually worked, his free hand dipped down between her legs without a warning, forcing them apart to grant him better access. Lazily, he dragged his fingers through her folds, stirring the fire inside of her with minimal effort.

“Now that’s disappointing.” What? Having expected his praise, those words of displeasure made her heart fall instantly. But he wasn’t done scolding her, yet. “First you hit me like a bloody lunatic and now you have the audacity to lie to my face so shamelessly, princess?”

“I’m not lying,” she croaked, feeling utterly sorry for herself as she saw her chances for satisfaction dwindle, “My juices are practically flowing over.”

But August’s face stayed unreadable, giving her no hint at all where this was going.

“Oh, no doubt about that,” he finally stated after a long minute of silence.

Wrinkling her forehead in confusion, she was forced to watch helplessly as his face came closer. She could already feel his searing breath on her lips, closing her eyes in anticipation of a redeeming kiss, when he turned his head only the fraction of an inch before contact and dove down into the crook of her neck.

“But your panties aren’t soaked at all, princess, because actually, you’re not wearing any.”

The hunger in his impossibly low voice would have been enough to make her dizzy, but when he bit down on her neck with purpose her body reacted of its own accord. Her back arched violently, pressing herself into him while a deep moan told of her want for more. And when she suddenly felt his fingertips press into her entrance, she knew that his whole act of disappointment had simply been for show. A distraction, so that he -

Oh God, his fingers were filling her so perfectly. Deeper and deeper he sank into her until he was buried three knuckles deep. With a gasp her eyes flew open again and she almost missed his next sentence above the white noise that rushed in her ears.

“You know, you’re really lucky, my painfully aroused angel. Because your sweet little pussy is far too wet to worry about such minor details now.”

His fingers had picked up a steady pace, sliding in and out of her sensitive womanhood pointedly. It was a good start, she thought, but by far not enough to sate her craving. As always, he enjoyed teasing her more than anything. But unlike every other time, tonight she wasn’t in the mood for his teasing, not in the agonising state she was in.

“August, please,” she whimpered. “You promised to make it better, not worse.”

Unimpressed by her words, he continued his slow ministrations, his mouth nipping and sucking its way from her shoulder to her ear.

“You must be mistaken,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the soft spot right underneath her ear that made her shiver. “I can’t remember making a promise like that at any point.”

Another wave of frustration took hold of her as her brain registered his repeated rejection. Straining against his tight grip, she was practically begging by now.

“Please, I…”

“Say it!” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Tell me what you need.”

No, she wouldn’t let him have this triumph, even if he chose to deny her the satisfaction she longed for because of her disobedience. In that case she would have to tend to herself, but under no circumstance would she let him tease her anymo - oh.

Holy shit. She didn’t know how this was possible, but it somehow had escaped her notice altogether that his head had abandoned its spot next to hers and had dipped down to pay his attention to one of her oversensitive breasts. And before she would lose her mind completely, she cried out in a state of utter desperation.

“I need you to fuck me, August. Please. Let me feel your hard cock deep inside of me or I’ll go insane.”

In the blink of an eye he stopped, his hands and mouth retreating as soon as she had finally said the words, giving her some time to calm down a little.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, princess, was it?” he whispered smugly. “Now let me deliver you from your agony.”

Her senses still in overdrive, she felt too weak to even move, but that didn’t matter anyway because, as always, August took care of her. Gently he moved her around until her body moulded into his perfectly. His warm chest lay against her back, his arm offering her a comfortable place to rest her head, and soon she could feel the claiming press of his promisingly hard length. With no effort at all, he sank into her, and finally, finally the excruciating unease inside of her ebbed away.

“Shit, I don’t think you’ve ever been this wet, darling.” His hot breath fanned across her neck, setting her on fire.

“I’ve also never been this pregnant and this horny before,” she moaned, her hand finding his on the cool sheets, entwining her fingers with his as he slowly started to move.

“Don’t worry. I promise we’re going to change one of these two in no time.”

And eager to keep his promise, his free hand dove down to the junction of her thighs, granting himself access to her bud. Carefully he pressed down, opting for drawing slow, deliberate circles. She was so hypersensitive as of lately and he was determined not to overdo it like last time. But judging from her elaborated breaths and the tell-tale sounds that fell from her sweet mouth, she was enjoying herself genuinely.

“August.” His name rolled over her lips with a shiver while his mouth tended to the sweet spot on her neck. Argus-eyed, he monitored every movement, every noise she made. Her relief was all that mattered to him now. But the first beads of sweat were already beginning to form on her forehead, triggering his worry in mere seconds.

“Should we stop?”

“No!” she almost cried out as if she was in pain. “Please don’t stop. I’m so close.”

And as soon as she had uttered the words, she could feel the eagerly-awaited tension inside of her build. Every thrust, every kiss he left on her overheated skin, every groan that rolled through his chest brought her closer, pushing her closer towards deliverance. And when she finally passed the point of no return, she turned her head to find his lips while the redeeming pleasure rolled over her enraptured body. And just when she thought she would pass out from all the bliss, she could feel his response.

He was sure that she had never climaxed this hard, her walls gripping him so tightly that the sensation caught him completely off guard. Speeding up his hips, he allowed himself to give in as well. And while his mind gradually clouded over, he grabbed her belly possessively in his last moment of clarity and for the first time, he could feel a sign of the life that was growing inside of her.

Part 3

***

Tag List: please let me know if you want to be removed or added by either ask or DM - thank you!

@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921 @endofalldays01 @agniavateira

#august walker x reader #august walker #august walker x you #august walker imagine #august walker fic #august walker fanfiction #august walker fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill imagine

[paper-n-ashes]

The Late Shift

Characters: Paul Sevier x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: There’s actually none (I hope). I know. I’m surprised too.

Authors Note: This is so dumb. I’m aware. Look, I’ve been dealing with a horrendous writers block and shattered confidence and I made Paul Sevier gifs to ease my pain. It turned into this. I just wanted to try something a little cute and fluffy to get back into the swing of things. So... here it is.

*

It was going to be a long night.

Stuck on the Wednesday evening shift for the third time this month, you mindlessly fiddled with the pen in your hand. Twirling it between your fingers, your mind drifted away from the present moment, wondering why your boss seemed to dislike you so much to keep you here past 6pm in the middle of the week. He’d always been adamant this was prime selling time for this boutique suit store, with corporate clients needing to do their shopping outside of normal business hours.

You, however, knew keeping this place open was senseless, barely seeing more than a few unenthusiastic customers in these agonizingly slow stretches. Working on commission also made you all the more bitter about being paid minimum wage to stand behind a counter and doodle sketches of imaginary clients dressed in the outfits you personally tailored. This isn’t where you thought a Bachelor of Arts in Fashion Design would take you, that’s for sure.

“H-hello,” you heard a deep voice quietly greet you, startling you into focus. “Are you busy? I… think I need a little help.”

Eyes flickering up from the notepad, you were sure your pupils blew wide at the sight of the man in front of you. Standing at an imposingly large height, his hair a severely murky shade of black, with honeyed irises shining brightly behind delicate spectacles.

A human personification of tall, dark and handsome. Well, except for the clothes.

The stranger wore the layered combination of a grey tweed jacket and argyle patterned sweater, arranged over a particularly heinous, mustard-coloured button up. While the ensemble made you internally cringe, it gave him an air of intelligence, like the kind that hangs around stuffy, old college professors who have more academic accolades than you have fingers and toes.

“Me?” you coughed out, knowing full well you were the only other person in this tiny little shop. “Uh, yeah. I mean- No, no I’m not busy. What is it you need help with?” Even when you stood, the man towered above you, making you silently begin to calculate the high-numbered measurements you’d need to fit him in something.

“I have an important meeting scheduled for Friday. You know, the type you need to wear a suit to?” Evidently the thought of it made him nervous, as you noticed his cheek twitch slightly, his eyes scanning momentarily at the garments filling the space. “I’m… uh… not so great with clothes.”

Clearly, you chuckled inside your head, holding the word from your tongue. “You want me to pick out something for you?”

He took a defeated breath, his mouth twisting into an awkward yet wonderfully endearing smile. “Would you mind? Only if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble!” you burst, maybe a little too excitedly. “It’s my job!” Bounding out from behind the counter you’d been imprisoned by, you moved directly to the section of classic navy business suits. Slim line. Something to accentuate his well-built frame, rather than hide it away. You had to pause, swivelling back around to the dumbfounded man. “Is price an issue… uh…?”

“Paul,” he answered for you, slowly moving to where you stood. “And… I suppose not. Probably should spend the money on something that will last. If you think it’s a good idea.”

Oh thank god, you mused without showing the relief on your face. He’s not some rich asshole trying to flash his cash. “A good suit can last you five years, if you treat it right.” Your hand reached over to graze one of the deepened blue sleeves of a jacket at your left. “And a classic colour will never go out of style.”

Paul let out an embarrassed chuckle. “I think you’ve already noticed how lacking in style I am…” He glanced to your nametag, murmuring your name with a goofy smirk curling his lips. You’d never seen a grown man, especially not one of this stature, appear so adorable. It was horribly distracting.

“I’m sure you have expertise in other areas,” you stumbled, realizing only when the words came out how offensive they might seem. Yet Paul conceded to your comment, his rumbling laugh making your chest feel tight.

“Debatable,” he shrugged. “I’m just glad I found some qualified personnel to help me in this instance.”

Oh boy. Humble and charming? You were in so much trouble. Surely someone as sweet as this had another waiting for them at home. “I’m sure your partner could help you pick out something nice too.”

“Not an option in my case.”

Shit. Single too. You were truly fucked.

You turned, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat by focusing on finding an outfit that would contain his longer limbs. Plucking out a matching jacket and trouser set, with an ivory, collared button-up, you offered them to Paul, his features having melted into a sweetened look of intrigue. “Go and try these on. There’s a changeroom just behind the counter. See how they feel, and we can go from there.”

He nodded, taking the pieces with both of his large hands and shuffling away to where you’d pointed to. No sooner than the latch had locked were you dashing to where your phone was sitting at the register, flitting out a rushed text message to your favourite co-worker.

There was rustling you heard emanating from the changeroom stall, doing your best to ignore the urge of picturing Paul, a man you’d met only minutes ago, gradually slipping off his clothes to reveal the toned muscles underneath. You grimaced at yourself, shaking your head to banish the imaginations. God this was unprofessional.

Finally, a response lit up on your phone screen.

You laughed softly through your nose, about to type a reply when you heard the lock click open again. The breath in your lungs was stuck as Paul made his way out, the expensive textiles draping over his burly frame in a way that made your whole body tense.

He rustled a hand through his hair, looking up to you while fidgeting with the starchy material stretched over his chest. “Does it look okay?”

After all these years working this job, the enticing novelty of attractive men in well-fitted suits had slowly worn off, especially when most of them treated you with about as much respect as the used gum they spit out onto the sidewalk. Suddenly, all those preconceived notions were gone. On Paul, this ensemble instantly became the most captivating thing in the entire universe.

The inside of your mouth flooded with saliva, having to swallow hard before speaking again. “Great… it looks… great.” You did your best to conceal a settling exhale. “What do you think? How does it feel?”

Paul shifted to look at his reflection in the mirror, pupils trailing up and down, flexing his limbs in an attempt to get a proper impression of the new apparel. “It feels really good. Makes me look… sophisticated.” He turned to you, his expression unsure. “Right?”

Your smile was sparkling, nodding to his question. There was a small amount of work to do, noting how in your effort to make sure everything complemented his physique, you’d oversized him. The waistline of the jacket needed to be taken in, the shoulder lines sitting slightly off, and the trouser length needing to be taken up slightly. “A couple of adjustments and it’ll be perfect.”

“You mean taking it to be tailored?”

“No need.” You pulled out the wheel of berry pins from your pocket, kneeling down on the floor next to Paul’s feet. “All our tailoring is included in the price. Done completely in house.” You began to fold the bottom edge of his pants, pinning it to an adequate length. “I can have it ready for you tomorrow, all ready for your Friday meeting.”

“You do all the tailoring yourself?” Paul asked as you slinked another pin through the fabric.

“Sure do,” you chirped, moving onto the other leg. “3 years at a design school taught me a few things about cutting and sewing.” With the hemlines in place, you straightened in front of him, plucking out a roll of measuring tape from your other pocket. “I just… need to take a few measurements to properly alter the jacket.”

His cheek twitched, the line of his jaw seeming somewhat strained. “Sure. F-fine. Do what you gotta do."

You went with determining his arm length first, feeling out the boney point of his shoulder and striping the lined tape all the way down to his wrist. Then, after taking a deep inhale, you curled your arms around his hips, focusing hard on the little black numbers to ignore the fact Paul’s breath had started to skate over your skin with this close proximity. It was when you were lining up the thickened stripes indicating his chest circumference that you made the mistake of peering up, finding his alluring stare fully concentrated on you.

There was a moment. A spark to waiting kindling. Where impulse could have led you to do a dangerous thing. You’d never been the hasty type, never acted without considerable thought. Usually so shy and composed, never making the first move. Although right now, you could scarcely hold yourself back, desperate to know the sensation of Paul’s lips, how they’d move over yours, what they tasted like.

No. This was so inappropriate.

The compulsion was about to wither away when you felt a hand skim up your waist, the lightened touch shooting a thrill over your skin.

“Excuse me,” a gruff voice called from your side. “How much are these dress socks?”

You immediately stepped back, smacked into reality again. “$12.99. Exactly what it says on the box.”

The older gentlemen scrutinized the packaging, lids narrowed until he finally saw the numbers plastered at the border. “Oh, right. Eh, a little expensive for my taste. Thanks anyway.”

Flustered, you began to coil the measuring tape into its resting spiral, forcefully glaring at the floor. “I’m all done. You can get dressed into your own clothes now.”

In your periphery you saw Paul regarding you with a gentle nod, walking back into the changeroom without another word. Every part of you wanted to sink beneath the wooden floorboards, so horrendously embarrassed you could feel a smoldering heat prickle at your cheeks. Only to relieve some of the nervous energy, you ran to your phone.

Again, Paul was exiting out of the stall just as you were going to submit your reply, placing the neatly arranged garments over the counter. It was difficult to look directly at him, having to summon all remaining shards of your courage to drift your eyes up to his face. “Was there anything else you needed?”

His mouth parted, only to quickly snap shut, scratching at his hairline in the seconds it took for him to give you a response. “No. Nothing else. Unless there’s something more you think I need.”

You shook your head, wishing you could give another answer just to keep him here. “You’re all set.” The full price of his items flashed on the monitor in front of you, spouting it to him as your fingers flicked across the keyboard to finalize the purchase, with a personal discount that wouldn’t show on the receipt.

“When should I come by to pick it up?” he queried, passing you his credit card. “Oh, but there’s no pressure. Whenever you have the time is just fine.”

An idea flared. “If you give me your number, I can text you when it’s ready.”

“That works for me.”

Erasing all evidence of the conversation you’d been having, you brought up the number pad, handing your phone over. Paul swiftly typed in his details before placing it back in your palm. ‘Paul the Suit Guy’ the contact read, unable to stifle your laugh.  

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” His eager expression made your heart quiver through a beat.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered. “I’ll see you then.”

Paul waved his hand in an awkward flourish to signal his goodbye, eventually moving far enough from your vision for you to finally take a full, relaxed breath. In a dazed hurry, you keyed in your returning message to your co-worker.

It was the precise moment your thumb had pressed into the ‘Send’ button that you realised your recipient wasn’t the one you’d intended.

You’d sent this message straight to Paul.

Fuck. Oh fuck. This was bad.

While you were scrambling to formulate a believable excuse, a new message popped up onto the screen.

Tags for my lovelies who might tolerate this nonsense: @tlcwrites @roanniom @princessxkenobi @hopeamarsu @blowthatpieceofjunk @mariesackler @leatherboundriot @foxilayde @modernpaw @cornmousequeen @direnightshade @safarigirlsp @blackberries45 @mylifeisactuallyamess @caillea @jynzandtonic @beskarbabs​

#paul sevier #paul sevier x reader #paul sevier x female reader #midnight special #adcu #adcu fanfiction

[tarithenurse]

Spark - 25

Fandom: Enn Enn no Shōbōtai / Fire Force. Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader. Content: Angst, feels, danger, stubbornness. The usual. A/N: Manage to get myself pretty confused because it said I’d already posted 25 chapters on AO3 but here on Tumblr it only claimed 24...aaaand then I remembered posting the what-if directly in the story there but not here...so yeah! Feel free to ASK (or reblog) for tag – in fact: always reblog. Thanks to those who have already <3

25. Forged by fire

...   Reader   ...

Your brain is protesting as you wake up. No, scratch that. Your entire body is throbbing as you’re being jostled by each step of the one carrying. Benimaru. The scent and heat can only be his but it’s comforting to open the eyes and see the shock of dark hair flopping about, occasionally blocking the view of his right cheek bone. Somehow, probably with the help of Joker, you’ve been tied together, allowing your arms to hang limply over his shoulders while he supports your by wrapping his arms around your thighs. It’s not comfortable but it’s efficient.

“Wait,” Joker hisses from up ahead.

There’s very little light – barely enough to illuminate the obstacles littering the crumbled hallway – and you can’t see what has alerted the gangly man, but you feel the uncrowned king of Asakusa tense beneath you, his lungs slowly expanding as he takes in the surroundings.

“Hm. I smell it.”

Smell? Sniffing the air, you don’t pick up on anything much at first apart from Benimaru, dust; and your own need for a bath.

“Don’t worry, [Y/N], just stay calm.” He must have felt you stirring.

Nothing snappy comes to mind and it doesn’t matter because that’s when you realize that a curl of sulphurous stench is mingling with the air.

“Let me down.”

“You can’t stand on that leg,” he argues as Joker steps closer.

Already fumbling with the sash holding the two of you together, the idea of supporting the weight seems like a horrible idea. “It wasn’t an invitation to a discussion, Beni,” you growl, “I’ll hold you back if you carry me.”

“I’m not leaving you behind!” Stubbornly digging the fingers into your thighs, he’s probably stubborn enough to stick to the word.

Finally free of the restraints, you tug at his hair. “I’m only telling you to put me down for now.”

There are whispers now, low murmuring groans coming from both directions as if carried on the fumes. The lightest dust and ashes are starting to dance on the ground in spiralling patterns that clash and divide in mesmerizing patterns. They could have been fascinating to watch if it wasn’t for the temperature slowly rising.

“Do as she says, Shinmon,” Joker drawls, his eye fixed at a warm glow that has appeared in the distance.

Begrudgingly, the man sets you on the ground, careful to let you gain the balance on your good leg before letting go. It’s obvious on his face: one wrong move and he’ll sweep you off your feet. I’m so gonna use this to my benefit once we’re home. You decide to ignore the nagging sense of doubt and instead focus on the growing lights in either direction of the tunnel.

What at first was nothing more than a glow has now, beyond a doubt, taken shape of several flickering fires moving towards the same cluster of targets. Misshapen bodies cast their stretching shadows beneath the flames, obscuring dozens of shuffling feet as the pace begins to pick up. They know you’re there. They are hungry.

Glancing at the men, the darkness before them is illuminated in red and purple and the air around them is shimmering with heat.

“Let them get close.”

“Guess you’re too exhausted to think clearly, dear,” Joker chuckles but then hesitates as he sees your face, “...okay. Call it.”

...  Joker  ...

Smiling behind the collar, Joker recognizes the worry flashing across the other man’s face. It’s a bold plan and he isn’t sure it’s strictly necessary...but they can’t be sure what else they’ll be facing on their way out, so [Y/N]’s idea of preserving the would-be rescuers’ power for later makes sense.

“Lighten up...or not, actually,” he smiles wickedly at Shinmon, “let’s see what our girl can do, eh?”

The glare he receives from the captain is a logical response.

“[Y/N]...there’s no reason to push yourse-”

“I didn’t survive this shit just to be rescued like some fairy tale maiden.” The threatening purr combined with the half-dried blood makes her seem tantalizingly dangerous. “There’s no one to take out my revenge on, but at least I can clean up the mess I’ve made when I let the lab blow up too.”

Oh? That must be an interesting story...for later. Finding an adequate slab of broken concrete, he brushes it off and sits down. In one of the inner pockets of the coat is a pack wrapped in cellophane and he picks a cigarette from it, lighting it with a flick of his fingers. Aaah. The acrid taste fills him for a handful of seconds before it’s blown out through his nostrils together with the last hours’ worth of stress – he could almost chill for a moment if it wasn’t for Benimaru joining him by the boulder, sitting as relaxed as a statue about to crack.

“Has anyone ever told you t-”

“Shut up, Joker.”

The men relapse into silence. It’s not that the man with the hat doesn’t understand Benimaru’s sentiment: the girl’s in horrible condition and is using almost all her strength to stand, it seems. The white-clad ran from her. The image of a dying man clutching a bundle of hastily written notes is still clear in Joker’s mind. Abandoned a comrade together with a demon infernal...he didn’t think they could end it. It’s clear, though, that something did put it to rest, most likely causing the explosion at the same time. Show us what you’ve got, [Y/N).

...  Benimaru ...

Like lit matches, only their heads are burning as they rush forward. At first surging for whomever is nearest until a clear shout orders them to ignore the men.

“I am what you want!”

The way the infernals all zero in on [Y/N] it really looks like she’s right and as they swarm around, pushing closer but never able to touch her, he can barely see her until he stand up on the slab of concrete.

Eye glowing bright yellow even against the infernals’ blaze, she doesn’t flinch as charred fingers scrape against the air, trying to reach her. She stands, immovable, talking calmly as if they could understand her. Maybe they can. Yes, they absolutely can and some must be accepting what she says because they stop and wait without a sound. Wait for what? A few infernals continue their struggle only to be wrapped in the arms of those standing by until finally, none of them are moving more than their dead faces.

There’s a shift in the air as [Y/N] spreads her arms, smoke and heat pushed outwards by an unseen pressure and stilling the flames of the damned.

“I’m sorry,” the woman whispers a second before tugging her fists tightly to the chest and plunging the Nether in darkness once more.

Benimaru can hear the muted sounds of clothing landing in heaps on the ground, the impact softened by dust and ashes, but the room is obscured by dark flakes filling the air to the extend that the glow from Joker’s cigarette nor the captain’s excellent vision can guarantee a view of the woman they came here for.

“Impressive,” the smoking man comments, snapping a fiery playing card out of nowhere to illuminate the space.

No one is listening to the compliment. The captain of Special Fire Force Company Seven is reaching out for the swaying figure of the woman he loves, barely making it over the heap of sooty jumpsuits in time to catch her as she collapses one more time.

“[Y/N]!” he croaks, frantically feeling for a pulse.

Eyelashes flutter for a brief second before she scrunches her face to look up at him. “Yeah yeah...I’ll let you carry me this time too.”

#Shinmon Benimaru #Benimaru #fire force benimaru #Spark 25 #Benimaru x reader #benimaru shinmon #Benimaru x fem!reader #Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader #Benimaru angst #Benimaru feels #Benimaru fanfiction #Benimaru slow burn #Benimaru Netherworld #Benimaru love #Benimaru protective #fire force #enn enn no shouboutai #enen no shouboutai #anime #Anime fanfic #Anime fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #wip #spark #Spark fanfic series #x reader #x fem!reader #enen no shouboutai fanfic

[tact-and-impulse]

Shinkane Week 2021 Day 5

For the “arranged marriage” prompt, I went for the Sengoku era.

In Place

Akane hoped that at the very least, he would be kind.

She set her mirror down, unable to look at her reflection any longer. The heavy embroidered robes, the cosmetics on her face, her hair hidden away under white silk. The guilt in her eyes.

Yuki had been the charming one, the one who was supposed to marry a general aligned with their closest neighbor. She had cheerfully shown her wedding garments to Akane during her last visit, that she had only met her betrothed once but liked him immensely and he had been pleased with her in turn. It seemed a fitting fate for Yuki, who wanted nothing more than to have a happy marriage.

Then, Sasayama Mitsuru had died on the battlefield.

The news had been delivered, along with the fact that the engagement would now be with a different general instead. Yuki had fainted and then grew feverish. It was believed that she had been weakened by the sudden upheaval of events, it was too much for her frail spirit to bear. But whatever the truth was, it would forever remain a mystery. Her dear cousin was gone too quickly, in the span of a night that left Akane numb and paralyzed.

At the funeral, she learned that the wedding would be occurring anyway. With her, in place of Yuki. She barely registered anything after that. The sewing alterations, the packing of her belongings, the trousseau moved to her room, that would only remain so for another two weeks.

Most of the ceremony passed in a blur. She kept her eyes downcast, sensing that her new husband was taller than she was and catching the aroma of kizami when he moved. He must have smoked the shredded tobacco, and she racked her mind for what else she knew about him. He was a little younger than Sasayama had been, but he had already cultivated a favorable reputation. Had he ever met with Yuki?

She glanced up at him, and though she didn’t recognize his handsome features, she couldn’t complain. His expression was stoic, serious. Then, his gaze slid to her, and she immediately turned back to the proceedings. She was much more aware of her surroundings, than she had been since Yuki’s death.

She actually tasted her food at the celebratory dinner, though her appetite hadn’t fully returned yet. Her husband wasn’t faring any better, and in her periphery, he was frowning. As the guests descended into merrymaking and she sipped her sake, he spoke for the first time.

“Do you want to leave?”

Oh. Well, there was that part to a wedding, and she hurriedly downed the rest of her drink. Swallowing the burn, she agreed. “Y-yes.”

His hand was larger than hers, callused and strong, but he touched her gently and she appreciated that. Her face flamed at the cheering and his grip tightened. The hallway was quieter, the party’s sounds muffled, and she felt like she could breathe.

“I hope everyone will behave.” She said aloud, as he presumably led the way to the chamber. Their chamber.

“They’re only pleased about the alliance. It would have been the same, whether it was us or your cousin and my friend. We’re a couple of shogi pieces, that’s all.” His voice was dark with resentment, but it wasn’t bad to listen to.

“I’m sorry about your friend. General Sasayama was kind enough, from what I remember. He and Yuki could have been happy together. Not that it matters now…” The grief opened up again, the cloudiness returning.

“No, it doesn’t. He was too reckless, he got himself killed because he wasn’t satisfied, and his death took your cousin with him.” Outwardly, he sounded angry, and he slammed the door a little too hard. Inside the room, a lantern illuminated the sparse interior. One futon, with two pillows. He pulled her inside, before taking hold of the sliding door again. She wasn’t sure where to look, what to do. Of course, the basic instructions had been provided, but she was too nervous to start anything. She flinched as his sleeve brushed hers, and he must have noticed.

He walked around her, taking one of the pillows and tucking it under his arm. “Are you tired?”

“A little. It’s been a long day.” She let out a shaky laugh.

“Then, get some rest.” He blew out the lantern, the room plunging into darkness. She clutched her embroidered outer kimono, trying to still her trembling fingers. But he never approached, his footsteps drifting away. “That’s your side. This is mine.” A pause. “Good night.”

“…Good night?”

The silence crept up, and when she realized nothing would happen tonight, she smiled.

***

They still hadn’t consummated the marriage, when she traveled with him. He explained that until winter, they would be residing with his lord’s family and she would be assisting the lady, while he was on campaign.

“Do you know how to use a naginata?”

“I have some training.”

“Rely on it. We get attacked on a regular basis.”

“Eh?” She hadn’t heard of that before. “What about the castle’s defenses?”

“They’re adequate, but you should be prepared, in case there’s a spy. Don’t trust anyone easily.”

“Not even you?”

“If I act dishonorably, you shouldn’t hesitate.”

“I don’t think you will.”

His gaze might have softened, but he never responded.

Within the castle town, she was introduced to a variety of people. The lord, who seemed rather easygoing, and his demure, proper wife accompanied by her ladies-in-waiting. The metsuke, Ginoza. The seasoned general, Masaoka, and the recently promoted Kagari. There was even a warrior woman, Kunizuka. They all seemed pleasant, addressing her as the wife of General Kougami. It was strange at first, but she did her best to be just as kind.

Meanwhile, she and her husband slept apart from each other, as much as they could with one bed. He hadn’t made a move yet. She considered that he had a mistress, but from what Kagari told her, he only trained in his spare time. And although it was commonplace, she didn’t like the idea that there was another woman. He always came back to her anyway.

He had seen the books she brought with her and skimmed through each one. He genuinely seemed interested in her tastes and didn’t belittle her opinions. His questions were direct, calculating, and purposeful. He shared his books too, marked with his notes. Her husband had neat handwriting, she thought. In the evenings, he smoked his pipe as he read his own papers, and she found the sight comforting.

Not long after her arrival, an enemy clan drew too close. The entire household mobilized, and she saw him off. Along with his armor, he had a mask to resemble a wolf’s open mouth, but she didn’t feel any terror. It was only her husband, who was resolute and intelligent. She had faith in him.

“Be careful. I hope you’ll win.”

“Ah.” His hand lifted and for a moment, she thought he was going to touch her face. Instead, he ruffled her hair. “I’ll return soon.”

She watched him leave, feeling oddly empty.

It was a harder fight than expected, and the news came that they had been breached. The lady was newly pregnant, and after ensuring her safety, Akane took up her naginata and headed for the battlements. She could barely see past the drizzling rain, and the clamor was deafening. An arrow whizzed past her hair, and she felt pain and a warm trickle past her temple. But she kept going, searching for any unfamiliar faces.

At one corner, there were two figures, one readying to finish off his prone opponent. It was hard to discern who they were, but the man who was down seemed to have a mask. In the dim torchlight, she spotted the painted fangs on porcelain. She lunged forward and drove her naginata into the stranger, who tumbled over the wall.

“Akane!” Her husband was surprised to see her, and he struggled to rise. With her aid, he was able to stand. He’d suffered a few minor wounds, but he was still speaking and breathing. “You’re here.”

“Yes, I couldn’t stand by and wait.”

He blinked, the rain in his eyes. “Where’s the lady?”

“She’s in hiding. I’m glad you’re alright.”

“So are you.” He gripped her shoulder, and he gave a strained smile. “Stay safe!” Before she could reply, he was running off. She sincerely prayed he wouldn’t die, and she lifted her spear with renewed determination.

By dawn, the enemy had been subjugated. She had returned to their room, examining her head wound. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped and it wasn’t very deep. She had finished bandaging it again, when the door opened.

“Shinya-san!” She rushed to him. He looked tired, but the dried blood had been cleaned off, and strips of white cloth covered his chest. She pulled him to the futon, urging him to sit and rest. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“No.” He seemed distracted, not quite meeting her eyes.

“If you need to sleep, I’ll leave you alone.” She was about to leave, but he grabbed her wrist. He stared at his own grasp, his thumb slowly bending. She ignored the heat overcoming her, lowering her voice. “Please, tell me what you need. I’m your wife, I want to help you.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t regret saying that.” And he kissed her, with unrestrained ferocity. She was too stunned to react, and when he parted from her, his eyes were completely dark. “Did you not like it?”

“I don’t know. One more time?”

He leaned towards her again, and she tried to meet him. Gentler than before, but his fingers twining through hers demonstrated that the passion hadn’t subsided. Breaking for air, he asked. “So? Should we stop?”

“No. Never.” And she initiated, claiming his mouth. He pulled her down and for a while, there was no need for words.

Neither of them were intended to be in this marriage at first, but they were now and the life that stretched ahead wasn’t terrible at all.

#shinkaneweek #shinkane #i just keep going back in time with the historical aus huh #psycho pass

[homeformyheart]

sparring partner - adam du mortain x f!detective (twc)

author’s note: thank you for the request, @crackerdumortain and @kelseaaa for the brainstorm!! sorry this took foreverrrr. also, this was supposed to be mostly smut but as always, i got carried away with the leadup. this is my first time writing smut for these two so…forgive any weirdness. hope you all enjoy!

copyright: all characters, except my oc detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – adam du mortain x f!detective (regina bishop) rating/warnings: 18+; explicit smut; ns*w noted between the 🔥⚡ and ❄💧 icons (minors dni) based on/prompt: nsfw prompts // 9. for sparring to turn into sex word count: 1.7k summary: adam and regina spar for a bit before things get hot (deep romance).

sparring partner

regina let out a string of curses and loud grunts as she continued a series of jabs and practiced footwork against one of the punching bags in the training room. even with carefully wrapped hands and protective gloves, she knew she was being a little reckless with her punches, letting her frustration and anger from a week of failed missions and a patronizing mother fuel her movements.

she was so consumed with channeling her emotions into the punching bag that she failed to notice adam slip into the room and wrap his wrists. nor did she notice how his gaze followed her movements, eyeing how her chest heaved against the confines of her sports bra, sweat dripping down her toned stomach and disappearing underneath the band of her very tight workout shorts.

his eyes snapped up when regina let out a loud cry, spinning and landing a kick into the side of the bag, sending it swinging parallel to the ground. even he was impressed, given the weight of the bag and her being human.

“i don’t think the bag is an adequate sparring partner,” he teased, walking over to her.

regina whirled around, the last of her anger leaving her in a breathy laugh. she put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow in a way that was meant to challenge him. “oh? i guess i should see if morgan will spar with me then.”

adam’s smirk turned into an annoyed frown as he peeled off his shirt and widened his stance. he couldn’t help but glance over her body, the sweat glistening on her chest and stomach, the scent of it growing in his nose as she stepped closer to him.

regina knew she hit a sore spot and chuckled quietly to herself before shifting into an offensive stance, tossing her gloves on the floor. she moved first, attempting to land a blow to his stomach, then his side, before aiming for his unprotected chin. a normal opponent – and by normal, she meant human – wouldn’t have been able to dodge all those blows, but of course, adam was able to block and sidestep each of her moves before she could blink.

he stayed mostly on the defensive, catching and releasing her sidekicks and uppercuts before stepping away, matching her blow for block with ease. it could almost be seen as a synchronized dance, if she wasn’t actually trying to land a blow and starting to get frustrated. her fatigue was showing, and it didn’t take long before adam had her in a loose headlock, holding her shoulders firmly against his chest with one arm, while the other pinned her left arm against his side, hand hovering over her stomach.

she tilted her back against his shoulder so she could look at him, lowering her right hand to rest on his. regina pressed his hand against her stomach and nudged it down until adam’s splayed fingers reached the elastic band of her shorts. as she predicted, he froze and loosened his grip on her shoulders. regina tucked her foot between his legs, positioning her knee behind his and curling her foot around his ankle. she yanked her leg forward and swiveled out of his grip, pushing back against his chest.

he still had a hand on her hip as he fell backward, bringing her down with him and holding her against his body so that she’d land on top of him instead of awkwardly on the floor.

“you have improved significantly,” adam noted as he looked up at her, no small amount of pride in his voice and face.

regina couldn’t help but preen a little as she straddled him and sat up. “really?” she asked, letting out a breathy laugh.

“for a human,” he corrected cheekily, his dimples deepening as his smirk grew.

“when will you just admit that i got the best of you?” regina panted, her chest heaving noticeably even through her sports bra. she pinned his arms down and leaned forward so she could look him directly in the eyes.

🔥⚡🔥⚡

adam was all too aware of her chest bumping against his. she was the best of him but he couldn’t quite articulate his thoughts at the sight of her. “i, well—,” he stammered before letting out a low growl and flipping them, pinning her arms above her head and hovering over her.

“you are far too distracting for your own good,” he muttered.

regina’s eyes dropped to his lips and trailed down his muscled, shirtless body.

“i’m distracting? have you seen yourself?” she huffed.

his green eyes glittered with need as he stared at her parted lips, her chest still heaving against his. she pulled herself up despite her arms being pinned down and kissed him, swallowing his groan as he kissed her back with an intensity that quickly filled her core. she squirmed against his grip and wrapped her legs around his back, tugging him toward her.

she ground her hips against his, smirking against his lips as he growled. she let out a whine as he pulled away to kiss her jaw and work his way down her neck. she let out a soft gasp as he sucked at the sensitive center of her collarbone before continuing south.

he groaned at the feel of her bare skin against his. the smell of her sweat mixing with her already enticing scent sent his hypersenses into overdrive, filling his lungs to capacity until she consumed him from the inside out. all he could breathe was her.

“this is in the way,” adam growled, tugging at the material of her bra and ripping it quickly down the middle before his lips descended on her nipples.

“oh,” she breathed, her body jolting in surprise at the sudden feel of cold air against her hot skin before she smirked. “impatient, are we?”

adam slowed his movements for a second to gaze at her with a tenderness that made her forget where they were. “yes. i could live for another thousand years and never have enough of you.”

regina didn’t think she’d ever get used to the way he looked at her as though she was his reason for existing.

but the moment to dwell on it passed as adam made quick work of the rest of their clothing before leaning back over her to resume his ministrations down her trembling body.

he sat up on his knees and pulled her into his lap, waiting until her ankles hooked around his back and her arms went around his neck before capturing her lips hungrily. he kissed her again and again, stealing each breath from her until regina thought her lungs were going to burst.

adam stood, and before regina could even register the movement, he slammed her against the wall without breaking their kiss, cradling her head with one arm to soften the blow.

she wrapped her arms tightly around him, feeling safe and secure between him and the wall. adam moved his hips against hers, rubbing against her core and groaning at how wet she was. regina broke off their kiss and nipped at his ear, tugging it gently between her teeth.

“i need you,” she murmured, the feel of his hard cock against her but not in her wasn’t enough.

“you have me,” he muttered back, so softly that she almost missed it.

adam positioned himself at her core and slowly pushed himself in, giving her time adjust to the angle as he lowered his arms to her thighs. regina quickly squeezed her legs and locked her ankles behind him, her heels digging into his ass and pulling him forward.

he moved slowly at first, drawing himself almost all the way out before thrusting back in. it didn’t take long before he picked up speed, letting out a soft groan with every deep thrust, her walls squeezing against him in perfect sync.

“you’re not going to hurt me,” regina gasped quietly, one hand clutching the back of his head while the other scratched at his back.

that was always what held him back from being as rough as they both liked sometimes, the fear that he’d unintentionally hurt her. but she didn’t need to encourage him this time, regina’s sweat and natural smell completely overpowered his senses until he was deeply entrenched in her.

he began thrusting harder and faster, her slick walls squeezing tighter as she mouthed at his neck in an attempt to muffle her moans. he could feel her muscles begin to tense against him as she dragged her fingernails up his back. he lowered his head to her shoulder and bit gently, not enough to break skin, but to let her know he was there, and that he was close.

she lifted her head and kissed him hard as the pressure building in her stomach released, mumbling words of love into his mouth as she came. he could feel her walls clench around his cock and with a few more, hard thrusts, he followed her over the edge, whispering his love back to her.

she kissed him softly where his shoulder met his neck before slumping against him, breathing heavily in time with the sound of his rapid heartbeat.

after a few moments, he released his hold on her so she could lower her feet back onto the floor. she took a step and stumbled; her legs still weak from their tryst. adam’s arm tightened against her waist and held her up, the pleased smirk on his face dimpling his skin.

she smiled knowingly at him before grabbing his shirt and pulling it over her head, the large fabric easily reaching her thighs. she grabbed her ripped sports bra and underwear before sauntering back to adam, who had slipped back into his cargo pants.

he looked at her inquiringly, one eyebrow raised as she tucked her clothes into one of his pockets.

“i don’t think you want the rest of the team seeing my underwear, even if they’ll figure out what just happened as soon as they step into the training room,” she said with a laugh.

adam’s cheeks turned pink as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “you do have a point. i should clean up after us,” he said.

regina chuckled and grabbed his hand. “or… you could join me in the shower for round two?”

he smirked and tucked one arm under her knees to pick her up, holding his shirt firmly against her thigh as he raced to the bath.

❄💧❄💧

permatag: @kelseaaa​; @kat-tia801​; @anotherbeingsworld​; @crackerdumortain​; @gloynporslen​; @sosolenoo​; @alyssalauren​; @wayhavenots​; @gingerbreton​; @takemyopenheart​; @fhauvilles​; @writer-ish​;

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #adam du mortain #adam x detective #twc fic #twc fanfic #twc fanfiction #my writing #my prompt fills #twc prompt fills #adam du mortain x detective regina bishop #adam x regina #my detective #detective regina bishop #nsft #ns*w #minors dni #n*fw #not choices #my twc prompt fills

[roguish-gallery]

How would Jonathan Crane react to eventually reuniting with one of his old students? Someone who actually really looked up to him and admired his passion for teaching, but was one of the quieter students who never spoke up in class. But now that he's no longer their teacher, they feel much more comfortable talking to him?

Sorry this took so long to write! I got... a bit... carried away... uhhh. Here’s my first ever full-ass fanfic, kept under the read more like always! I hope you like it!

p.s. if the formatting on this is too weird, I also have it on my ao3 here

Jon + Reuniting with a Former Student!

It’s incredible how little he seemed to age over the years. His auburn hair might have gotten a bit greyer and thinner, and the lines under his eyes have gotten darker, but he remained just as tall, as intimidating as he was those years ago. After all these years, Jonathan Crane still goes to the same café, orders the same coffee, and even sits in the same seat. In a way, you almost admired how little he cared about keeping his identity a secret.

Of course, the last time you saw him in this café, it was during his office hours, and you had come to talk with him about the midterm. Now he’s… well. You know.

A wanted criminal.

A killer.

The Scarecrow.

You’re shocked how no one has noticed him sitting there except for yourself- a testament to how thoroughly desensitized Gothamites are towards flamboyant villainy. Or, possibly, the burlap mask does work to hide his identity. Probably a combination of the two, you figured.

 You absentmindedly tapped your fingers along the table. You should have left the moment you saw him; anyone who’s watched the news would never want to be in the same room as the fucking Scarecrow. Who knows what he might do? What if he floods the air vents with fear toxin? What if he lunges at a waitress for getting his order wrong?

Yet… you still haven’t left, he has yet to create any incidents, and… you still want to talk to him. It’s not like the opportunity will ever present itself again. When will you get this chance?

Fuck it, let's go. you thought. The worst-case scenario is that you get to take a few days off from work to detox yourself. The threat of fear toxin has almost become as routine for the average Gothamite as getting into a car accident; unexpected, unfortunate, and it certainly ruins your day, but it’s nothing new. Finishing your coffee, you rose from your seat to approach him.

 As you got to his table, you felt your stomach churn as Crane’s eyes darted from his book to you. He watched you with caution, his mouth pressed into a familiar displeased line. He looked mildly annoyed by your presence, but he said nothing. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand his unspoken threat- what will happen to yourself and everyone in this building if you chose to make his presence known. In an attempt to make things appear more casual, you took the seat across from him. He quirked a brow, but allowed it.

You might have thought you didn’t make a presence, but Jonathan Crane never forgets a face. Especially the face of someone brave enough to take his class.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Crane cuts you off. “No need to exchange formalities here.” he gestured vaguely to the surrounding café patrons. “This is hardly the place. Before you ask, yes, I do remember you- your final paper on cognitive dissonance was… adequate.” He took a sip of coffee. “If you’re asking me to change your grade, well, it’s a bit late for that.”

“Oh...” You didn’t even remember the grade you got on that final. “Well… I won’t bother you for long… I just wanted to pop in for a quick chat.”

He rolled his eyes and dog-eared his spot on his book. “Alright, but make it quick.”

...

.......

“Um..." You stutter. "... What are you doing here?”

Crane’s nose twitched. “All the things you could ask me, and you choose that?” He paused for a moment, and sighed. “Fine. If I’m being honest, no one makes coffee as good, cheap, and black as this old haunt does. Furthermore, even I get nostalgic sometimes.”

...

........

The two of you awkwardly stare at each other.

“If you don’t have anything else to tell me, you can leave.” he said.

...Better cut to the chase, then.

“I’ll leave you alone, but before I do…" You linger off, trying to find the right words. "I just wanted to let you know that you were my favorite professor back when I was in college. You changed me for the better... if you can believe it.”

Crane's eyes widened, and he disdainfully shook his head. “Of all the professors you could have chosen, and you decide that I’m your favorite? I thought I had taught you better than that. All of my research, my field data on fear, and yet I somehow fail to scare away a former student. Pathetic”

“I suppose you still have some work to do, then.” You told him.

“Yes,” he mused. “I suppose so.”

 There’s more silence, before Crane decided to press further. “May I ask why?”

“I wasn’t in a good place back in school… I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, and I didn’t know how to articulate those thoughts into a vocal, healthy way... You though, you were always so passionate during your lectures” You explained. “Even if the tests were hard, and I hated having to cram for them. Coming to class and watching you talk about whatever, it was nice. You gave me hope that I’ll have that fire too, once I graduate.”

Something about that seemed to get to Crane. He blinked in surprise, and the irritated expression he had throughout the entire exchange… disappeared. His eyes softened just a bit, and his shoulders lowered into a more natural position. He studied your face, trying to find the smallest hint of deceit; something to let him know that this was just another joke. When he couldn’t find any, he sank back into his chair, his face now unreadable.

....

“... Did you find that fire?” He quietly asked.

“I don’t know... but I at least found enough to talk to you, even after all these years.”

The quiet returned, but it’s less awkward now, more comfortable. The air surrounding the table seemed to settle, and you could finally breathe.

“If it means anything to you, I am... flattered by the kind words.” Crane muttered something else under his breath, but you could make out a very restrained “Thank you”.

 “I’ve got to go now, but thank you for your time, Professor.” You got up from your chair, hesitating. “It was good to see you again… I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while now.”

He graciously nods his head. “It was… good to see you too… I enjoyed our talk.”

Before you could go any further towards the exit, he beckoned you back.

“Before you go- don’t drink from your tap next Tuesday. I’ll be testing out a city-wide experiment then.” He whispered.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly nodded your head. You needed to update your health insurance anyway. You thanked him again, bid him farewell, and left.

 Jonathan remained in his seat as he watched you leave. He took a glance at his watch, wincing slightly at how much time had passed. He ought to be headed back to his hideout, assuming he wanted his plan to work on time.

Hmph- that’s what I get for getting sentimental. He finished the last sip of coffee lingering at the bottom of his cup, and shuffled his papers back into his satchel. It was good while it lasted, he supposed. Jonathan rapped his fingers along the table.

How long has it been since he’s been here last? Ten... no... twelve years? Dear god.

Despite the time gap, the café was just how he remembered it. Of course, things have changed- repainted walls, some refurbished furniture, and all of the regulars he shared the space with have long-since retired or graduated. Still though, things were fundamentally the same. College students mingling with each other, some trying to tutor less than-enthused peers, some study groups feverishly swapping notes with each other. The minimum-wage baristas, as expected, passed the time by flirting, or trying to study for their own classes. Yes, everything was just the same as he had left it.

And in the thick of the chaos, in the corner table sat Jonathan Crane, either up to his neck in library books, or helping out his students. Despite a more casual setting, the café had become just as academic of a place to Jonathan as the Gotham U libraries or the psychology conferences he used to attend.

 His train of thought was broken as the waitress gently cleared her throat.

“Sir?” she asked. “Would you like your check?”

He thought about it for a moment. He did have work to do… but…

“Actually, could I get a refill?”

“Of course. Black coffee, right?”

“That’s right. Thank you”

Jonathan watched her take his cup away, and he pulled his book and notes back out. The fear toxin can wait.

Let him stay in this moment... just a bit longer.

#jonathan crane #the scarecrow #headcanons #dc headcanon #DC comics

[lacielre]

circles over circles, 2 (m)

SUMMARY  Your life has been pretty stable from any university task to your social life and love life, everything has been set perfectly like a plate to a dining table. but that changes when you encounter the one person you remember to feel indifferent the most—Jungkook.

PAIRING  jimin/reader, jungkook/reader

RATING  mature

GENRE  college au | smut, romance, heavy angst, friends to “enemies” to lovers, childhood friends, established relationship 

WARNINGS  lots of dwelling in the past (again), pining, smitten!jk, cocky taehyung, a light touch of dirty talk

WORD COUNT  8k

PARTS  1, 2

FIRST DAY OF PLAYOFFS…

Time is quick and unforgiving.

You realize this when you take a swift sweep of the sixty-person-filled room you’re in and catch the hanging wall clock. Time’s almost up. Everyone’s striving to finish the examinations that will determine the fate of the scholars in this tense chamber. For some, the exams are for the fifty-percent off scholarship grant. For you, however, you’re aiming for the month-long education in New Zealand, which based by the overheard pre-exams conversations is almost everyone else’s aim.

In a few minutes, everyone, you included, submits their papers.

All you’re thinking about is that you better fucking get in. Those dreadful hours in the quiet of the libraries and the fears of walking alone at night better pay off.

Today is also the first day of playoffs and because of the thousand-item test you had, it’s impossible for you to catch up to any game. Even the final minutes of the day’s last game, ice hockey, are not granted to you. Having arrived at the venue, you only witnessed the university’s team winning hoots and cheers, sonorously booming in the stadium from the ice rink while the audience clears up the seats.

And like every college that exists, there’s a house party and it’s only blocks away from your dorm. You’re in the middle of untying your shoelaces when your phone rings with Seulgi’s contact name flashing on your screen so you answer.

Before you could even speak, a voice beats you to it.

“Hey? I’m Yeri, Seulgi’s classmate. Um, you’re on Seulgi’s speed dial so I just figured to call you—”

“Wait—what-why? What’s going on?” you ask instead, not wasting a minute.

The other line is too loud and thank God, the girl—Yeri—you’re speaking with has gone outside to lessen the noise and actually communicate.

“Seulgi is drunk and none of us could drive her home,” she sighs then gets to the point, “she’s wasted.”

“Yeahyeahokay,” you say, tying your shoes back. “I’ll be there in five. Don’t leave her alone please.”

“Yes! Of course, of course! Thank y—oh, my God, tie—put her hair back!”

In no less than five minutes, you arrive to the house party that shows exactly what it is: a Friday night house party. You feel like even if your university didn’t win ice hockey tonight, something like this would still happen.

But hell did you miss going to parties like this.

Sadly, you aren’t here to party; you’re here to pick up your roommate who you caught puking in the last seconds of your call.

Fuck it.

You enter the vibrating house, licking your lips dried-up from the hints of winter soaking and slowly freezing the autumn air. The interior looks exactly how you expect it to from how it presents itself outside.

“Ayy! _____!”

Someone shouts your name over the blasting music and you know it’s Namjoon. You turn to find him but it’s difficult when the inebriation of people around you is also clouding your vision. There’s too many people moving around.

“On your left!”

You turn so and you see Namjoon with spread legs on a wide grey couch, balancing a red cup of what might possibly be beer on his left thigh. He eases comfortably between Seokjin and an awfully good-looking guy with a perfect side profile.

Your lips heartily form a wide smile.

“Joon!” you shout, approaching him.

“Drink?” Namjoon offers, holding the cup to you.

You’re right—beer.

You shake your head.  “No, thank you.”

“Alright.” He nods. “I didn’t expect you here tonight.”

“Just here to pick up my roommate.”

Namjoon laughs, not failing to pick up the subtle hint of frustration in your tone. “Been there,” he consoles.

“Why are you even here… drinking? Isn’t your game tomorrow morning?”

“Before lunch, yeah,” he corrects. “I’m not getting drunk by the way. Just here for a few drinks then I’ll bounce. Our coach told us to relax.” The last word hotly grazes against his throat.

“And we did,” Seokjin continues, leaning back. “Nice seeing you, _____. You look great.”

“You know I doubt that but thanks.”

“So, what, I’m just not here or…?” the guy with the perfect side profile says.

“Ignore him, _____,” Seokjin mumbles.

“So, _____.” The perfect-side-profile man catches your name. “I’m Hoseok.”

“Ignore him,” Namjoon repeats Seokjin’s sentiment.

You smile at Hoseok anyway, to be polite. Now he has a name. “I’d love to catch up with you, guys, but I gotta go look for my friend,” you say in a hurry, withdrawing in tiny steps. “Bye! Good luck tomorrow!”

“Yeah, your boyfriend won’t really approve of that,” Namjoon teases.

Instead of replying with a witty remark, you already run off to another, emptier corner of the house and you even heard Hoseok double-checking Namjoon’s statement, asking something like, “How the fuck do all girls in this party have partners?”

Your phone vibrates and lights up with a message from Seulgi or well, Yeri who’s handling her phone, telling you to go to the backyard.

When you spin, time doesn’t construct itself much from your rapid recognition of whose back is facing you right now but meters away.  

It’s Jungkook.

It’s Jungkook whose arm is leaning flatly on the wall, caging a girl with his body. It’s Jungkook in the kitchen with a girl giggling in his company and by the way his back bounces, he too must also be sharing the laughter. It annoys you that you could recognize him so easily, and worse, you could recognize him smiling from the looks of his back.

That’s Jungkook, alright.

Fuck it.

It has you reeling how you’re feeling this way but Joohyun’s words from last time ring in your head. They’ve constantly been.

This is a burden you never lifted off your shoulders.

And things like that – they come full circle.

Do they really?

You faintly shake your head.

You pass by them in speedy steps, getting a whiff of Jungkook’s cologne along the way. Some things never change.

It only takes probably half a minute for you to spot Seulgi being forced to stand up by her friends. You hear her say something to them but you couldn’t pick it up since she slurred her way through it. She lifts her head and probably sees you.

She does.

“_____!” Seulgi shouts, barely pronouncing out your name correctly.

“Oh, thank God!” Yeri groans as she follows Seulgi’s gaze.

You help Yeri and two other girls with Seulgi.

“God really is a woman,” Yeri declares in a pained whisper, squeezing her eyes shut when you take Seulgi’s arm from her shoulder.

She groans from relief, rolling her shoulders.

“My car is parked right outside,” you state, wrapping Seulgi’s arm around you instead.

“Whaaayoudyoin…” Seulgi asks, pushing her head back with closed eyes. “Donnbrimehome pleaaa! Jaacallmywoommey. I haa! A woomate!”

Now Seulgi is being a pain in the ass.

Seulgi doesn’t make it easy for you to carry her with her thrashing her body sideways at almost every step you make.

“Hey! _____! I’ll help,” Namjoon shouts from the back door, jogging lightly to your destination. “Saw you from the window,” he adds. “You didn’t tell me this was your roommate. She’s been like this for almost half an hour now.”

You shrug, passing Seulgi’s arm to Namjoon’s shoulder. “Well, that’s for her to remember in the morning.”

“She’s wasted as fuck”—Seulgi kicks and almost gets to Namjoon’s leg—“and stubborn as fuck too. Goddamn.”

“That’s my roommate, alright,” you sigh, words barely under your breath. You watch Seulgi move around and Namjoon could only back off when she turns and sways, but he tries his best to steady her, alternating holds from her shoulders, arms, and elbows. “So, can you…?”

He gives off a nervous laughter. “Yeah, fuck. I’ll just need…” he looks around, “some help.” And he catches Hoseok who’s chilling on the doorstep. “Hobi! Help me out here!”

“What, can’t carry a girl only half your size, Joon?” Hoseok provokes but comes closer.

“How ‘bout you fucking try, then?” Namjoon lets go of Seulgi and Hoseok almost backs off when your drunk friend pushes them off with her arms.

“Oh, fuck,” Hoseok says.

“Are you guys really gonna help?” you ask, frustration pent up, helping Seulgi stand on your own.

“Anything for you, princess.” Hoseok winks.

God, you are so familiar with this type of talks. The sigh drawn from your lungs is probably an adequate answer but Hoseok probably failed to catch that as you do not receive any reaction from him.

With the help of Namjoon and Hoseok, you arrive to your car in no time. The other girls have already gone back to the frat house and rekindle with whatever activities Seulgi disrupted them from. Tonight is a failure to feminism, you think.

“Drive home safe,” Hoseok reminds, tapping your scrolled-down window.

Although unaccustomed of the gesture coming from him, you slowly nod.

“Okay, between the two of us, only I get to tell her that, a’right? Move,” Namjoon interferes, pushing Hoseok aside. He nods to Seulgi who’s dead asleep on the shotgun. “You sure you can bring her up yourself?”

You could only nod. Fuck, you haven’t thought of that.

Fuck it.

You swallow.

With a determined sigh, you say, “Yep. Thanks for your help, Joon.”

He flashes his deep dimples at you. “That’s nothing,” he genuinely says. “It’s nice to see you again, though, _____. Seeing you back there felt like high school, when you were still with that shithead Yoongi—fuck, sorry.”

“I’m fine! You can call him shithead as much as you like.” You laugh and he does too. “Also, yeah, it’s really been a while, huh?”

He agrees by wiggling his brows. “You took your exams today?” he asks.

“Yep! Missed all the games for that one.”

“Sucks,” Namjoon comments, his forehead furrowing in comfort. “Did mine yesterday. See you in New Zealand, baby!”

He raises a palm up and you reciprocate the high five.

You think, right.

He’s both an athletic and academic scholar. Of-fucking-course.

“You can’t be too sure.” You shake your head.  “I’m not as smart as you.”

He scrunches his nose to brush off your comment. “Eh,” he deadpans, shrugging. “I’m sure you did well, _____. You’ll get in.” He takes a pause then he exhales, gripping onto the bottom windowpane of your car. “Jungkook also took his yesterday. Hopefully, we all get in.”

You could only nod and Namjoon must’ve seen how that made you tense for a second. He clears his throat and knocks a tin of your car. “Drive home safe. Hope to see you tomorrow.”

“Oh, you will.”

“Text me when you get home.”

“Oh, I will.”

He chuckles and repeats, “I really did miss you.”

“You too. Need to catch up with… everything.”

“And ignore Hoseok, by the way. Hasn’t gotten his dick wet for a week, excuse him.”

“I’m literally standing right next to you.”

SECOND DAY OF PLAYOFFS…

Sans the library studies from your morning routine, you take into account to visit Joohyun’s shop, Irene’s, every morning for whatever you need. It could all stem from buying sweets or drinks to reheating lunch boxes to borrowing cash.

Today is for the former.

You’ll be needing to replenish energy and the way to do that is through sugar. Loads of them.

“You getting nervous?” you ask.

Amid your morning walk, you are on line with Jimin who you swear is nervous but tells you otherwise.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I feel… alright?” Jimin sighs.

“That doesn’t sound confident,” you tease. “Where’s my cocky boyfriend?”

“When have I ever been cocky?” he scoffs.

“A few times—mostly in bed—but I’ll take that point,” you goad.  

You hear him laugh on the other line. “Can’t wait to see you.”

In that, you feel the syllables stretching with the way he smiles. Before you were with him, you found it corny how you read things like hearing someone’s smile from a call but fuck do you get it now. You get it. And it feels nice catching details like that.

You bite your bottom lip. “Me too,” you reply. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited in weeks. Probably months even, for something. And all I’ve ever been was… tired and annoyed. Mostly, tired.”

“Mhm,” Jimin hums. “I forgot to ask you last night about your exams. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“That’s fine and you know what, I don’t think I did that well.” You pout. “Before you yell at me, I’m not just saying this. I swear I feel this way.”

“That can’t possibly be right.” You hear a shuffle from his line, probably him shifting on his seat. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

You couldn’t help the laugh the blooms from your chest. “Okay, now you’re just lying to my face.”

“Not to your face. And no,” he emphasizes his decline, “I am not lying.”

“It’s either that or you don’t know that many people which is impossible, by the way.”

Jimin laughs again then he composes himself. “You’re getting that grant, babe. I’m sure.”

You raise your brow. “You’re ‘sure’?”

He laughs. “Okay—maybe not sure, but you get me.”

“Whatever, Park Jimin,” you sass.

It only occurs to you that you never actually told Jimin that you’re looking forward to a month-long exchange trip in New Zealand for winter, not a fifty percent off scholarship grant. You aren’t sure why you didn’t tell him in the first place. It’s probably because you applied for it just when Jimin started his training. Then weeks went on and on.

It’s difficult for you to tell him because then, after barely seeing each other for about three weeks because of his training and your preparation for exams, it’s again another month of bare absence, of almost concrete silence between the two of you. It’s again another time for uncertain developments and yearning for lingering touches on your skin.

You’re scared that he’ll think you don’t think much about spending time with him because you do. But the New Zealand trip will be a box full of opportunities too, and you cannot risk not being able to go.

But after this for sure.

Fuck it.

Inhaling sharply, you repeat previous sentiment, “Can’t wait to see you.”

“Cheesy.” His voice is flirty, its rasp sticking to the word.  

“What do you want me to say then?” It’s a challenge you don’t want to lose. “I’m ready to suck you like a champ,” you say, tone lacing in feigned seduction before spared milliseconds of bursting into laughter. “How was that? How does that sound?”

“Sexy,” he muses, grinning. “And what if I lose then?”

“Don’t say that.” You click your tongue on the roof of your mouth. “Well, I’ll make you feel like a champ then.”

“Yeah, okay. I gotta admit, that sounds kinda hot,” Jimin laughs.

You grin. “Today should be all about you, babe. Do well and I’ll text or call you when I get there. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

When the line disappears into the plainness, into thin air, it’s just on time with Joohyun noticing you from the counter through the glassed walls of the cozy shop, allowing the central color of brown in different schemes to the exit, displaying itself for people to see orange-turning furies from the islands to the select bricked walls and to the waxed wooden floors. She does her usual routine every time she sees you: untie her apron, leave the counter, and pull her phone from her pocket.

You enter, rolling your eyes at her.

“Good morning to you too, _____,” Joohyun exclaims with a wide smile.

“Get back to the counter,” you say.

“What?” She frowns. “But I just got out.”

“Your shop opened literally fifteen minutes ago.”

“I know. I opened,” she says, mocking you with her tone. Barely. “Contrary to what you think sometimes, I do work here.”

“Exactly,” you say sharply. “I’m gonna order something.”

She rolls her eyes, reties the ribbon of her apron, and slip her phone back into her pocket. “What do you want?”

Your eyes land on the untouched blueberry cheesecake caged in glasses as an answer. Joohyun is quick to her senses, crouching down to have herself almost face-to-face with your dessert.

“How many of this do you want?”

“Four slices, please,” you declare, excitement evident in your phrasing.

She straightens her back once all the slices are neatly placed in a small paper box for you.  “Aren’t these too much for a morning?”

“Don’t shame me. Also, I have a roommate to feed.”

Her eyes widen at your response then she presents you a tight smile. “Okay.” Then she announces the price of your order. “Will you tip your cashier?”

“No. When can I get like a friend discount in here?”

“You won’t,” she says curtly, processing your order and payment into the slim machine. “Look at you getting all sugar-high for the game later.”

“Well,” you shrug, “I need all the help I need. I barely slept last night. I had to pick up Seulgi from a party then I had to bring her up to the room—it’s all such a mess last night. She almost puked in my car too.”

“You went to a party and you never told me?”

“Joohyun,” you say through gritted teeth. You point your fingers to your ears for emphasis. “Listen. I said I had to pick Seulgi up.”

“Sorry. All I heard was… party,” she says, whispering the last word into a short-lived outbreath. “So, saw anything interesting? Flaring testosterone levels? See any of my ex making out with someone? Or maybe your ex?”

“I saw Namjoon and Seokjin,” you interrupt. “Jungkook was there too.”

“You two talk?”

You shake your head. “You know what, I feel like you messed with my head, Joohyun. Because last night, I honestly felt like there was this part of me—just a small, small, small, tiny part of me—that was just ready to call his name and talk to him.”

She pushes the box with an attached receipt to you before raising her hands, admitting a defeat you never declared her to do so. “Hey, don’t blame this one on me. I was just saying.”

You look away and you could feel your forehead scrunching up to a concerned look. Without feeling the need to, you sigh.

“Well, you saying it,” you bite your lip, “just did something. Opened wounds.”

Joohyun shakes her head, not entirely getting your point. “Can I just ask? Am I okay here? Like, you’re not mad at me or anything, right, for telling you something that I’m sure you already know?”

“I’m not.”

“Okay, good. Because you don’t sound good. That didn’t sound good.”

“Is it bad that I feel this way?” You swallow and continue, “About him?”

“It’s not a crime to miss someone, _____.”

“I never said I miss him.”

“You didn’t have to, though,” she counters, not bothering to pause a little. “I think you’ll only know whether it’s a good thing or if it’s a bad thing once you start talking to him. For now, I don’t think it’s… you know, something—or anything, but you know, don’t miss the chance to turn into something.”

You nod slowly. “You’re right. Not sure about that last part though. I feel like you’re just planting stuff in my head again.” A beat for how ludicrous it sounds and you continue, “Fuck. I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. In fact, I don’t want to. Maybe I’m just missing high school in general.”

Her brow raises and you’re already so well-aware of what she’s about to say. She really has a way of making you want to eat back the words you just spat to avoid being embarrassed by her teases.

“Oh, you miss high school, huh,” she starts. “Is it because of Jungkook or… maybe Yoongi? Aw, shit. It’s been a while since I even said his name.”

“Fuck you.”

“Are you still in contact with him?” she asks, genuinely curious.

“Of course, not, Joohyun. Do I look like I don’t respect myself?” You don’t wait for her answer and beat her into speaking by saying, “Okay. Don’t answer that.”

“Do you wanna know some classified information?” she asks, shifting the topic. On her note, at the control of the conversation, she says, before you could even answer, “Jungkook and you must have pretty similar tastes—andandand before you yell at me, I can say so because he frequents here ever since he started ordering here. Thanks to you.”

“Again, fuck you,” you hiss. “I didn’t want to know that.”

She scoffs, ignoring your statement. “Whatever. Enjoy your stuff and see you later.”

The venue is already packed with people when you arrive, many of them are students. The student division of the two universities can be clearly seen from afar. Outsiders are even dressed up to support whoever they’re supporting and it, without doubt, shows. The cheering squads are already up on their feet, performing their bone-breaking choreographies, shouting on top of their lungs to make out their cheers for the players.

You text Jimin about your arrival and where you’re seated. You’re sure he’ll easily spot you later. He does it every time you attend his games.

Instead of proceeding to a crowded spot among the seats, you go to where Seulgi is and she’s sitting beside Jennie, a mutual friend, chilling at a rather bald spot in the seats, but still only a few seats far from others. Between you and Seulgi, you’ve known Jennie longer although you two weren’t that close in high school.

College really couldn’t pull you from high school.

“Finally, you’re here,” Jennie squeals. “I barely see you around anymore. Park Jimin’s really taking all your time, huh?”

“Girl, I wish. Was busy with the scholarship stuff,” you correct, yawning.

“And girl, you better get it,” Jennie proclaims before biting onto her chip. “Seulgi told me about her drunk night. I salute! Thank you for saving our fallen soldier.”

“You owe me. You owe me big time,” you sternly hiss at Seulgi and she nods adamantly. “So what you two been up to?” you ask, shifting comfortably on your seat.

“What have you been up to, huh?” Seulgi teases. “I didn’t know you were friends with most of the guys in the baseball teams! What the fuck, _____? You never gave me this information!”

Jennie faces you with a mischievous smile. “Ooh, looks like Seulgi wants an introduction with the boys. You’re freshman year ‘bout to get spicy, Seulgi! You don’t know the land of opportunities _____ is going to show you.”

“Jennie, stop planting ideas in her head!” You glare, shaking your head. “I’m not introducing anyone to anyone. And Seulgi, c’mon, now,” you say, a bit disappointed. “Them, really?”

“What? You’re friends with them! Why can’t I be?”

“Okay, fine! Whatever. I’m not your mom. But Jennie will do that for you.” You turn to Jennie. “Right, Jennie? Since this is your bright idea anyway.”  

Jennie’s smile fades but she blurts a “yes,” anyway after long negotiations with Seulgi.

Soon, the teams arrive in their team jerseys and whatever gears they need, and the volume of the cheers even turn up to a certain extent that has the seats vibrating a bit. The crowd follows the chants through and through. Of course, the cheers are louder from the home team aka your university.

The loudest is probably when Jungkook’s name was announced. But it’s also hard to make that decision when Seokjin, Namjoon, and Hoseok start to make their entrance one-by-one and the cheers seem to get louder and louder. It has your head reeling, that even when the stadium seats are not completely filled, the clusters of small groups have it in them to shake the plate.

“Holy fuck,” Seulgi chuckles as she covers her ears. “My ears!”

“Jungkook. Golden boy,” Jennie states.

The visiting team then makes their entrance and even if they’re the visiting ones, Taehyung gets his share of screams too.

Your friend, Jennie, on the other hand, chooses to sing-shout a romantic song about how time should go back, an homage for your past with Taehyung which was as shallow as it gets. She does that instead of doing what normal people do in a game—cheer. And you could only slap her leg to shut the hell up.

“Imagine you and Taehyung, what it could’ve been.”

“You know what, Jennie? No. And this is getting old.”

“No, I don’t but I’ll keep doing it.” She raises her brow and you could only shake your head. “Lighten up, _____. I was just kidding.”

“Taehyung’s hot,” comes a direct whisper on your ear, making your hairs stand.

“Fuck! When the hell did you get here?” you ask, startled, while Joohyun hops from the back bleachers and take the empty seat beside you.

“I was looking for you and I was contacting you but you weren’t answering your phone,” Joohyun complains, then she winks at Seulgi then Jennie. “Long time no see, girls!” She wiggles her brows. “Isn’t this exciting?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely! It gets more exciting every time one player comes out and we tease _____ about him,” Jennie says, chuckling.

“And so far, who? Just one. Taehyung. That’s right,” you say dismissively.  

“And Jungkook,” Joohyun points out.

“We were friends. We didn’t do anything.”

“Looks like you did, though,” Jennie backs.

“Yeah, definitely,” Seulgi agrees.

“You too? Really?” you moan.

“I don’t know—I just thought…” Seulgi defends without an drop of confidence.

“Sometimes, try not thinking.”

Joohyun groans. “We tease you because we lived boring lives, _____. Mundane. Dull. Humdrum. Monoto—”

“Got it, thesaurus,” you interrupt.

And Jimin finally comes out and you’re sure he winked at you, making you bite your bottom lip to suppress your smile. The crowd roars with the announcement of his name and you’re too flustered to even mingle in with the shouts.

“Aw, is _____ wet yet?” Jennie teases, making Seulgi and Joohyun snicker.

“Shut up,” you hiss but you’re smiling.

Fuck it.

“God, we get it, _____. You have a boyfriend,” Joohyun mumbles.

“Damn right, I do.”

Everyone gets to their position and the game starts with Hoseok pitching while Jimin twirls his ankles and gets ready to bat.

A competitive atmosphere envelops the stadium. Throughout the game, even with your few-minutes-spaced reminders to keep your eyes on Jimin, you couldn’t help but allow them to drift to Jungkook. He just plays so damn well. It’s no wonder this university recruited him when it had a chance.

That’s Jungkook, alright.

CUSP OF SUMMER, FOUR YEARS AGO…

“You free on Saturday?” Jungkook had to ask.

It looked like he wasn’t paying attention to you—or to anything really. He was busy fidgeting over your fled and crazed application papers on the counter, while managing an itch on his nape that never seemed to disappear. Crooking his head to the right as his fingers lightly lifted few pages of your forms, he took a peek.

“Hmm,” you hummed, stretching your hands heavenward with an eye closed, moaning at the delicious stretch. “If this is you asking me to go see you play then…”

He cleared his throat. “Then what?”

“Of course, I’m there. Are we even friends or what?”

“Good. I was starting to doubt that.”

“I don’t see you for like three days then you start saying shit like this to me.” You sneered before rolling your eyes.  “You’re the one on training, mister.”

“Okay—okay. You win this one.”

“Mhm. There’s a teeny, tiny problem though.”

Jungkook’s brow raised in concern. “What?”

“I forgot to buy tickets.”

“Luckily for you,” he slid a ticket from his back pocket next to your cup of coffee, “there’s this.”

“Aw, no,” you cooed. “You have this reserved for me?”

He nodded then he processed your facial expression. “That’s it. That’s the face of someone who thinks the world revolves around them.”

You ignored him with scoff. “You really can’t live without me around you, huh?”

You pressed your hands to your chest for emphasis while your brows drown a quarter span of your forehead. Your teeth couldn’t even release their bite from your bottom lip, doing their best to suppress your jokey beam. But what came next – you hadn’t expected.

Never.

And it will be in your head for quite some time.

“Of course I want you there. You’re my lucky charm,” Jungkook stated without hesitation, shifting his gaze from the ticket then to your eyes. His were earnest.

Yours were something else but they softened. Fuck it.

You did not expect it and it came worse to you. Because now, you were flustered. Flustered like the times he would envelope your hand in his when crossing streets without telling you beforehand. Flustered like when he had kissed the top of your head because you were crying. Flustered like this.

He flashed you a smile, one that only cared to lift the corners of his mouth, before leaving your sight, attending to the game he abandoned on your computer.

“Lucky charm,” you repeated in a small voice. “Lucky charm, huh.”

Not even your boyfriend said stuff like that to you.

As if on cue, your phone lit up with a message from your boyfriend, Yoongi, asking you if you would be free on Saturday.

You didn’t reply, did not even bother tapping your fingers on your phone screen. You didn’t even bother to draw your phone closer to you to read his message. You just wouldn’t and couldn’t.

You sighed. “Jackass.”

If asked to describe your relationship with Yoongi was like, the first word that would pop up in your head was – messy. That itself was enough to tell how problematic your relationship was with him but you couldn’t end it. Yoongi would fuck it up; miss out on significant events of your life, make you wait for hours for a date, leave you on read for days—weeks even, then contact you back – like today. But you took him over and over again in your arms.

“Heard that,” Jungkook announced, clearing the silence between the two of you.

“Don’t worry. It’s not you, Kook.”

“I know it’s not. It’s always one person when it comes to you and that word, _____.” He scoffed, followed by a short chuckle then his conclusion: “That was Yoongi for sure.”

“Damn right.”

When Jungkook’s game ended or after his team won, his time was quickly occupied by some guy you weren’t familiar with. He was dragged to the corner of the stadium, near the entrance made for the players.

Even then, you did your usual routine after every Jungkook game, wait by the doors of the guys’ locker room. As Jungkook was kept busy by some guy, practically all his teammates had exited the room and bid goodbyes to you along reminders of “party at Namjoon’s later” when they caught you leaning on the wall beside the doorstep.

Almost every one of his teammates were out and about in preparation for the party later, getting doses of alcohol in cans, glass bottles, and even those gigantic jugs, and also probably, well most likely, weed, when Jungkook finally gone to shower. Great. You’d be waiting for another set of dread minutes.

The door once again opened while you were busy formulating a reply to Yoongi, the classic type-and-delete approach over an apology for leaving him on read until Saturday—or today arrived. Actually it was the classic type-and-delete-and-curse approach. You were thinking this was all too late because Saturday was almost over anyway.

This was you giving in again and you surely wouldn’t be telling Jungkook about this.

You were doing so well.

Fuck it.

You started typing.

“Hey, _____,” was the greeting of a deep voice from beside you.

“Hey, Tae,” you greeted back, locking your phone.

Taehyung stood next to you, peeking from the small opening he made with the door. But he was close. Close enough for you smell his mint shampoo and a bit out-of-character baby soap. The scent matched well with his fresh face and sodden dark locks, however.

“There’s a seat here,” he noted.

“Great. My legs are killing me,” you said in relief and he opened the door wider for you.

You followed him to the lockers and it was only him left and of course, Jungkook in the showers inside.

Taehyung closed his locker then leaned his back on it, looking down on you as you sat on a bench across him, only a meter away.

If you were asked to describe your relationship with Taehyung, it’d be very easy to do so. It was as shallow as it could get. Things with him were the epitome of almost’s. He’d make a move then nothing happened next.

“You have plans after this?” Taehyung started.

“Is this your pick-up line?” you teased.

“I guess pick-up lines are my bottom-of-the-barrel approach to finally get it on with you then.” He chuckled, making you take note of the fact that his voice even sounded deeper when he did. “So, what are you up to?”

“To wherever Jungkook goes,” you answered. “It’s his day anyway.”

“So you’ll be at the party later then.”

You scoffed. “With or without Jungkook, I’ll be there for sure. Won’t miss it for the world.”

“Would you mind if we pick up where we’d always left off?” was his brazen request.

That made you stand up from being seated, meters closing into bare inches when you branded the floor with your footsteps.

Taunting to be as bold as him, you smirked.

“And where is that?” you asked breathily, grazing your fingers on the loose part of fabric clinging on his waist.

He smirked, aiming to tear down your dominant demeanor with how he towered over you but you contested, keeping your eyes locked with his. “Pretty,” he merely commented, clearing your face from the stands of your hair.

“Pretty?” you repeated.

Taehyung got a hold of your wrist but he kept his touch merely centimeters above your skin. He skimmed to your elbow and upwards, upwards, upwards until he reached to swipe his thumb on your bottom lip. “So pretty,” he repeated bending down his neck to whisper them in your ears.

He claimed a spot on your neck with a small peck just when you thought he’d claim you in for a kiss.

“You letting me take you home tonight?”

And fuck were you ready to just jump on his request.

His voice dripping honey didn’t help at all.

“That’s a question I can’t answer,” you swallowed when he nipped on your jaw to hide your panting, “right now.”

“Uh huh. Why is that?” He placed a hand on your back, dangerously close to your ass. His other hand cupped your cheek into his palm, making it easier for his lips to fan hot breaths over yours.

Again, you swallowed.

“You’ll have to convince me better,” you said weakly.

Fuck it.

“Later, yeah?” He leaned in and right when you hoped he would finally enclose his lips with yours, he only kissed the corner of your lips, making you yearn as if minutes of him playing with you weren’t enough.

You lifted your head, trying to catch his lips which after two quick attempts, he allowed with a smug chuckle.

It wasn’t a deep one. It was open-mouthed, wet. A trial for what comes later.

“Doesn’t look like you need much convincing though,” Taehyung teased, giving your ass a squeeze.

The only answer you could give him was a moan and another kiss which ran a few seconds before he pulled away.

“What now?” you whined in a shy voice, annoyed, making him chuckle.

“You’ve got to tell me though.”

“Tell you what?”

“What’s up with you and Jungkook? I need to know so I don’t fuck up,” Taehyung elaborated sharply. “I mean, you’re always together and shit.”

Your lips were left agape and you ran your tongue behind your teeth as you contemplated. You didn’t know what to tell Taehyung because you didn’t know the answer for that in one statement. You could say your best friends though but why couldn’t you?

“Jungkook!” you shouted instead, startling Taehyung.

“What?” Jungkook shouted back from the showers. “I’m coming out!”

“Okay! Good.” You turn back to Taehyung. “We’re friends.”

“So, I wouldn’t be fucking up anything then? Great,” Taehyung said that had your heart beating faster. “That’s what I liked to hear.”

“You’ve got to know though,” you added. “I’ve got a very complicated relationship with someone right now.”

Taehyung shook his head, laughing. “Yeah, I’m not really worried about getting in the middle of that,” he said, a finger sliding on your lips.

“Taehyung, back off, please,” Jungkook interrupted, a bit of frustration hinting in his tone. “I already told you; she’s taken.”

Taehyung untangled his hands from your waist but his smirk lingered.

You withdrew from Taehyung, walking up to Jungkook who stood at the boundary of the locker room and the shower room. You mouthed to Jungkook inaudibly with an annoyed expression, “Really now?”

He raised a brow at you as he tongued his cheek. “Yeah, _____,” he said sarcastically, nodding his head. “Anyway, let’s go. I’ve got something to tell you.”

The only thing you could do was follow him. He, who was walking in a real hurried pace with his gym bag. Before the two of you exited the locker room and left Taehyung alone, you looked back at him and he gave you a wink.

You two didn’t really move too far from the locker rooms anyway. Just by the doorstep when you waited for him earlier.

“Okay, what’s up?” you asked with a smile, hoping for some good news.

Before he opened his mouth, he gave in to a wide smile he must’ve been biting on his cheek to repress.

Alluring features of him smiling were of different earthly gifts.

“Oh, my God. It is good news! Wait—wait, let me guess! Is this about the guy outside?” You waited for his nod which he gave. “Okay, wait—no. I don’t wanna guess. I give up. What is it? Who was that?” were your shooting questions, putting him on hot seat.

“So that guy is the baseball coach of the national university,” Jungkook introduced slowly but he didn’t continue.

“Well…?”

“He’s asking me to try-out for them.” He paused to exhale. “And if I get in, which he kept telling me I’ve got a great chance in, I’ll go to college there. Free.”

As if it was your triumph to celebrate, your eyes widened as you jumped to hug him tightly. “Oh, my God! That’s so great! I’m so happy for you, Kook! Oh, my God! This is big!”

He let go of his gym bag to fully wrap his arms around your waist, almost completely burying his face to the crook of your neck and shoulder. “It’s still not sure though. Only if I get in—”

“Shh,” you hushed. “One thing at a time.”

“Okay.” He surrendered to you, into the embrace.

“Okay, maybe two things at a time,” you recounted. “First, your win. And this, second. Fuck, I really am your lucky charm, aren’t I?”

“You have a way of making things about you, _____,” he countered instead. But again, he surrendered to you. “But fuck yeah, you really are.”

“Everything’s falling into place for you, damn.” You hugged him tighter, leaving your cheek on his chest. “I’m so happy for you I could honestly cry but to save face, I will not.”

“Thank you, _____,” was his straight reply.

The vibration of his chest suddenly became the beeping alarm in your head on the proximity you two share. But no one was pulling away. Not you. You couldn’t.

Not when hugging him like this felt so good, so warm. So perfect.

You looked up to tease him about the fast beats of his heart, but as if you were caught in act, as if captured to an arrest, you stiffened when his eyes were already onto yours.

But no one was looking away. Again, it was not you. You couldn’t.

It didn’t take long ticks of seconds for you to feel the burning of your cheeks, pinks finally looming to your face. Yet still, you couldn’t, wouldn’t dare look away. And all this time, you were only thinking about how it was you who should look away, not realizing that he wasn’t moving either.

Because it couldn’t be him who would look away too.

It couldn’t be him who would unwrap his arms and pull away finally.

Despite all these thoughts, Jungkook knew that if no one let go, he could lean in. Fuck, he could. You were only a few centimeters away. He really would. He would yet he couldn’t so he stayed the same way you did.

Today was special. This was special.

Today was his.

“You guys have a ride?” Taehyung’s voice suddenly echoed from the locker room, making the both of you jump.

It was you who had to let go.

“Y-Yeah, Tae!” you shouted back.

“Alright,” Taehyung noted, exiting the room and moving past the two of you. He looked back to wink at you. “See you there, _____.”

You bit your lips.

“Really, ____?” Jungkook asked.

“He’s joking,” you defended.

“What is it you see in him anyway?” Jungkook still asked, ignoring your statement.

“Kook, you ask that about every guy I’ve been with,” you stated. “Nothing’s even happened between me and Tae. I just wanna fool around with someone. And everything I have with Yoongi is so close to coming to an end. So, I guess that one’s out the window.”

You waited for Jungkook to speak.

“For real, this time.”

“For real, this time?”

Your statements overlapped, except that Jungkook’s was a question. It was clear that he had enough of you saying the same thing over and over again.

You chuckled.

“Yes, Kook,” you assured. “And you know what? Let’s not talk about this. Today is your day!”

Jungkook chuckled at that, certain that you were only trying to move the discussion away.

“Get drunk as fuck and fuck who you wanna fuck tonight,” you kidded.

He looked down. “You’d think I would,” he mumbled under his breath so silently you barely heard something and you didn’t question it.

In bare silence, the best thing you could bring out was a wide smile on your lips you couldn’t bring to stop. It was enough for Jungkook to feel like he was on top of the world and he could only mentally curse at himself for feeling like this. It was just a smile anyway. Nothing big. Nothing big.

But his chest that barely caged his pumping heart could only do so much. He felt that even with you only a few inches away, you could feel the vibrations in the small space between the two of you.

He hoped it did.

All this over a smile which wasn’t anything big.

Nothing was ever a big deal until he felt your touch. Your fingers pulling at his fingers then upward to wrap them around his wrists quickly, gripping lightly higher and higher until you held onto his arms for balance, in order to tiptoe and kiss his cheek. You felt him tense.  

“Congratulations,” you said as you levelled with his stare, as if it was so simple.

It hadn’t been clear to Jungkook that it was you who leaned in.

“I hope you don’t mind,” you said when you figured he remained silent.

He shook his head. “Of course not.”

You bit your lower lip and indulged him into another tight hug, crossing your arms over his shoulders. And his, followed around your waist.

There were two chests hammering at that time.

No one could tell if it was their own or the other’s.

PRESENT, SECOND DAY OF PLAYOFFS…

Once the game is over, your arrival outside the visiting team’s locker room is one that could be classified as “a minute too late” but it’s the best thing you could do. The floods of college students and outsiders at all entrances and exits have made it impossible for you to get to the lockers as soon as the game ended.

You are left with an opened door, allowing you access to scan whoever’s left inside and no, Jimin’s not there anymore.

“Hey, _____.”

However, Taehyung is.

“Hey, Tae,” you greet back. “Is Jimin there?”

“I thought he left to come see you…” he trails, “but I do realize that that’s wrong now because you are here.”

“Nice,” you comment curtly.

“Hey, c’mon, now. Cut me some slack. I’m tired,” he says with a chuckle. “You don’t even look like you’re happy to see me.”

You quickly feel bad for how you responded to him. “Sorry,” you apologize.

He raises a brow then leans on the doorframe with crossed arms.

“For being rude,” you continue. “And for you know, the game.”

“Well, what can I say?” he says, ticking his head to the side. “You really are Jungkook’s lucky charm.”

You don’t answer, not really in the right state of mind to do so. Especially when Jungkook’s declaration of you as his lucky charm – that specific moment of your life –  is the one thing that’s been keeping your senses awake, having been replayed in your head for so many times amid the game until now.  

“Here I thought you could’ve been my lucky charm. Turns out, it’s just because we were on the same team back then,” he quips with a chuckle, wrapping a towel around his neck.

“Okay, Tae,” you breathe out, not knowing how to respond to him. “I gotta go look for him. Also, I am happy to see you.”

Taehyung gives you his most charming smile. “Go find him and tell him not to sulk.”

Meters at a turn of your heels, you see the doorstep for the home team’s locker room and some players are out there, loudly conversing. Before you could even pass by them, Namjoon, being apparently one of the players outside, doesn’t waste a second calling you.

“_____!” Namjoon shouts, making you turn. “Thanks for the good luck last night.”

You cringe. “Yeah, well…”

It doesn’t take him a full sentence to understand why. “Oh, yeah, fuck. I forgot. Sorry. And thank you. But also sorry ‘bout that. Sorry it turned out that way—which is a good thing for us but you know, sorry. Okay—I’ll stop.”

You shake your head. “That’s fine, I guess.” The best you could give is a small smile. “And congratulations, by the way!”

“Thank you!” is his quick response. “I’d hug you but I really haven’t… showered.”

“That’s fine,” you says, snickering a little.

The locker door opens and the players outside hoot because finally, it’d be their turn to shower. Of course, as though the universe has a way of telling you things, the locker room spews a newly-showered Jungkook. A Jungkook of red-tinted cheeks and drenched curls from the hot shower.

Suddenly, it’s quiet and Namjoon isn’t doing any saving.

So you try.

“C-Congratulations,” is your nervous congratulatory attempt.

And just as you think Jungkook would answer you, he doesn’t, not when his teammates round up to him and carry him on their arms to celebrate his successful contributions to the team. As it’s many of his runs that concluded their win.

You shift your gaze to Namjoon who’s just as dumbfounded as you. When you shake your head, he shrugs—the contributing factor to your decision to leave abruptly and find Jimin who still, hasn’t replied to any of your texts.

Fuck it.

#f: circles over circles #bts smut #jungkook smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x oc #by:lacielre

[cesabutterflywrites]

525,600 Minutes

Summary: Logan meets Patton in a coffee shop after losing his connection to the stars. What follows is a year of their life, and their first seasons of love. Inspired by Seasons of Love from the musical RENT.

Word Count: 15,708

Rating: Strong T for mild cursing, mentions of sexual intimacy

Ship: Logicality

Characters: Logan/Logic, Patton/Morality, Thomas Sanders(brief), Virgil Sanders(brief)

Warnings: Suicide mention, self deprecation, anxiety, alcoholism, arguing

A/N: This was supposed to be 4k words and a little short oneshot. The infamous fic I’ve been complaining about for a while. It was supposed to be a little fluff piece to distract from my Prince in the Storm fic. Well, Patton and Logan had other ideas. I put a lot of effort into this, but it has been a few years since I’ve written anything so it will be a bit rough in some areas. I hope you enjoyed and feedback is encouraged. This is not a multichapter. Also on Ao3. Song Logan sings is Irresistible by One Direction. 

525,600 minutes

Summer

It was a hot August evening. Despite the darkness of the night, the temperature outside was still a good seventy degrees Fahrenheit. There was a hint of a breeze in the air, however, that made it more bearable to go stargaze.

One thing Logan loved about summer nights were the clear skies; perfect for seeing the sky with its navy hues of blue and purple. He also enjoyed how the grass in his backyard wasn’t muddy from rain. It was still soft enough to lay on (with a blanket underneath him, of course).

Summer nights were for relaxing. The heat hardly made it easy to do anything productive. Even less invigorating activities such as reading, sitting at a desk, and taking a shower ended with him still drenched with sweat. While it was grimy, dirty, and made his skin feel uncomfortable...he also loved it. The heat swelling in his face gave him the feeling of life that he had lost over the course of cooler months.

Knowing it was hot outside, he was prepared in adequate attire. He did not want to dirty any presentable clothes with grass stains, so he wore what would be deemed as ‘house wear’. A white tank top that was a bit too small from many times in the dryer, some denim shorts with a belt. It was not his preferred way to dress, in fact he avoided thinking about what would happen if any of his friends saw him in those clothes.

When the blanket was laid down, Logan rested his head in his hands and looked at the stars. Of course, he could name the constellations that were popular. Orion, Ursa Major, et cetera. However when Logan needed a break from recalling fact, when he needed a moment to just exist within himself, he made his own constellations. That was what summer was for. Summer was for retreat. Time away from work, away from stress, away from...people.

That night, however, he struggled to come up with an image. His mind kept swirling with questions about the stars. What would it mean to touch a star? What would it feel like to see the stars in someone’s eyes? Everyone around him in the summer were focused on romantic endeavors. His colleagues would take about their dates to the boardwalk, to an ice cream parlor, to a swimming pool. Summer seemed to be the time where everyone found someone.

Logan took a deep breath in, tasting the hot moisture of the night and letting it stick to his lungs. He was not blind to the fact that he was thirty years old without ever having a...person. Not that he didn’t desire anyone, he just never found someone he ‘clicked’ with. Of course, there was no point in setting himself up for heartbreak when he saw there wasn’t a stable enough connection. Most times it wasn’t bothersome, most times he could be distracted by his work and the stars. For as long as he could remember, the stars were better companions than other species. They listened to his concerns without him ever needing to verbalize them. They heard his deepest wishes, tasted his loneliness when it was unbearable.

So what was different about that night? He could see the stars but it was as if they had hung up on him. It was as if they abandoned him. When all he sought was some relaxation, he was met instead with isolation.

He closed his eyes, hoping that by doing so the galaxies above him would shift just enough for him to pick up the connection.

When he opened them, there was a bright sun and the sky was a light blue. He brought his hand up to shield himself from the sudden burst of light to his eyes. His skin was sweaty, and a bit red. His tank top stuck to him and his shorts chafed against his thighs.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Perhaps the warmth of the night had acted like a blanket and helped him drift off.

With a sigh, he slowly pulled himself off the ground to make his way indoors. He didn’t want to bother with the blanket, what he needed was a cold shower and some aloe vera lotion. After that, an iced coffee.

~~~~

The coffee shop wasn’t very crowded when he arrived. Most everyone had already grabbed their drinks and were enjoying the sun. Logan wasn’t too burned by his outdoor slumber, the only place he felt sore was his face.

When he got to the counter he noticed the barista was new. Chocolate brown locks curling over a tan face with a splatter of freckles along soft cheekbones and a button nose. The man made the standard uniform of white shirt, black pants, and a blue apron seem like something out of a magazine.

Logan felt his face heat up even more. It was uncomfortable to blush under his burn, but not unwelcome.

“Hi there! Welcome to Skye’s Cafe. What would you like to order today?” the barista asked, and Logan nearly fainted. His voice was filled with such enthusiasm. Logan hadn’t thought it possible that he could hear sunlight.

“Uh-I would like a, um,” Logan needed to think. What had he come in for again? Where was he? His skin was on fire from the intense waves of immediate attraction pulling him in.

“Don’t worry, take your time,” the man encouraged, “There’s no one behind you so don’t feel rushed.”

Logan glanced behind him and was brought back to earth. He shook his head as if the feelings that overcame him were nothing more than fleeting thoughts.

Turning back to the handsome figure behind the register, he gave his order as casually as he could, “Iced coffee, light cream and sugar.”

The barista cheerfully nodded as he put the order into the register. Next he grabbed a cup and sharpie, “Name?”

Logan’s throat closed but he managed to get out, “Logan”

“Logan, what a great name. Mine is Patton!”

Another wave of emotion crashed over Logan. Patton. Suddenly he knew the name of God’s most perfect angel. Fire licked at his feet and he struggled to keep his balance.

“Thank you, uh, Patton. Are you new here?” Logan asked, noticing the nervous tone in his own voice.

Patton didn’t seem to notice the edge in Logan's voice. He walked off to start making the drink but he answered, “Yes I am, today is actually my second day out of training.”

Logan didn’t have a response other than ‘hm’. Patton had gotten the drink ready quicker than any of the other baristas had before. Logan grabbed the drink from the counter and indulged in one more glance at Patton’s face. They both exchanged a smile.

“That was the quickest anyone made my drink,” Logan blurted out.

A pink blush crept up underneath the freckles on Patton’s face. “Oh, thank you. Everyone has been saying that today. I guess I’m a quick learner.”

“Well, thank you. I hope to see you more often,” Logan internally chastised himself. He didn’t mean to overstep his bounds.

Patton blushed even harder, “Well, at the end of the week I’ll know what my schedule is for sure. Maybe after that I could tell you.” Patton’s eyes went wide when he realized the implication of what he said, “O-of course, so you can have your drink made quicker!”

Logan smirked at the flustered barista. It was a comfort to know he wasn’t the only one flustered. “Then I’ll hope to see you when you know.”

Patton only nodded in response, then the bell rang signaling another customer walking in. “Well, it was nice talking to you Logan. I hope you enjoy your drink.”

Logan nodded then went to sit down at his usual table in the corner near the window. It was the perfect lighting for reading a book. He took a sip of his drink and jolted a bit.

So this is what heaven tastes like

~~~~

A few weeks went by, August was nearly over, and Logan made it a point to go get coffee 10 minutes before Patton was due for a break. They had gotten to know each other quite well, though Logan realized the man of sunshine could be a bit...eccentric.

“Hey, teach, wanna hear a joke?” Patton asked as he sat across Logan.

Logan sighed. Mostly out of habit, he knew whatever joke came out of those pink lips would fill him with joy. “Sure, go ahead Patton.”

Patton started giggling, barely able to start. Logan’s heart pounded to the rhythm of the sound. “Okay, okay. What,” Patton grinned at Logan with a raised eyebrow, “do you call a pan from mars?”

Logan’s eyebrows scrunched, wondering what the punchline would be. “There are no pans on Mars that we know of.” He responded.

“Marzipan!” Patton shouted before dissolving into a mess of giggles. His arms wrapped around himself in an attempt to hold himself together.

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “That one didn’t even make sense, Pat.”

It took a few seconds for Patton to compose himself to respond. Logan felt a smile tug at his lips at how absolutely precious the man in front of him was. “It doesn’t have to make sense, that’s why it’s so funny!”

Logan let out a small laugh, “Whatever you say, Sunshine.” Logan’s eyes widened immediately. He hadn’t meant to call Patton Sunshine, it just slipped out.

Patton looked stunned for a minute, before he broke out into a wide grin. “What did you call me?”

“I- I didn’t mean… I hadn’t meant to- I’m so sorry I don’t know where that came from.” Logan put his head in his hands to hide his blush and shame from Patton.

“Hey Logan, look at me,” Patton requested softly. Logan just shook his head in his hands, refusing.

He didn’t hear Patton move, but suddenly there was a warmth sitting next to him. Gentle, soft hands wrapped themselves around Logan’s wrists and tugged them down. Logan was a slave to the request, fire spreading up his veins and causing his heartbeat to fill his head and ears. He looked at Patton to see a light in those puppy brown eyes he had come to quickly fall for.

“It’s okay, I like the nickname. I’m flattered that you think so highly of me, cause...well I…” Patton looked out the window behind Logan, a twinkle in his eyes and red starting to creep up along his cheekbones. “I think pretty highly of you, too.”

Logan couldn’t hear his thoughts, or perhaps he had none. Words had escaped his mouth and mind as they had the first time he laid eyes on Patton. “How much?” he asked. He needed to know if Patton, too, felt the fire. He needed to know if Patton felt the pull as well.

The curly haired, freckled, sunshine man looked into Logan’s eyes. There was the fire. The flames Logan had felt consuming him all these weeks; they came from those eyes.

Patton moved a hand to reach up to Logan’s face. He waited for Logan to nod before making contact. Logan felt himself lean into Patton’s hand. It was almost as if those hands were sculpted to hold him. Or maybe Logan’s face was made to be the clay Patton were to use to his own will. Patton didn’t seem to know it, but he held all of the power over Logan.

“I think you are so smart. You may seem annoyed by my humor, but I can tell that you secretly enjoy it. You have pretty blue eyes that make me feel like I’m in a refreshing pool of water. You seem guarded with everyone except me, and I feel that it is an honor that is rarely given. So, I think very highly of you.” Patton’s voice was low for once, his words sounded as if he had rehearsed what he needed to say.

Logan could no longer bear it. He was too warm, his throat was dry, he needed to do something to release and cease the heat. He grabbed Patton’s face and pulled him in for a kiss.

Fireworks exploded in his stomach as Patton kissed him back. The world disappeared until all that was left was them. Logan’s first kiss, the first kiss he had been skeptical would ever come for thirty years, made all that time worth it. He felt himself smile against the soft lips of his new love. They pulled apart, grinning at each other like fools.

“Sunshine, how do you feel about stargazing?”

525,600 minutes

Autumn

October had come to an end, and Patton was the happiest man on Earth. Autumn was his favorite season. It was the time of year for hot chocolate, warm soup, cozy blankets, and snuggles. The air cooled, breezes picking up orange leaves and scattering them along the ground. They crunched under his feet. Rain fell from gray clouds, making him feel like he needed to dance. Well, maybe his reason to dance was more than just that it was raining.

Things were going great with his new boyfriend, Logan. They had been going steady since the first time they kissed at the end of August. He had been working at Skye’s coffeeshop for about two months and was recently offered a raise for how much business he was bringing in. He wasn’t quite sure what she had meant by that, but he didn’t really mind. Skye was an amazing boss to work with, and started to become an amazing friend. Patton loved making friends. He just loved making people happy.

He had been on his way to Logan’s house when the rain started to really pour. He had forgotten to bring an umbrella with him before he left work, so he started jogging so he could get to the warm embrace of the house and Logan’s arms quicker.

He had reached the door when the downpour had started to turn into a storm. His knuckles knocked on the dark wood door to the house he had come to spend every evening at for a month. He rubbed his arms and bounced in an attempt to warm himself up. Despite the cold and wet, he couldn’t help but feel happy.

Every day he felt laughter bubbling up in his chest as he looked forward to seeing his wonderful boyfriend. All he could think about every day was the way Logan’s lips twitched when he was trying to hide a smile. How he would tip his glasses up and glance away when he felt extra smart. How he would blush whenever he caught Patton staring. He always looked forward to spending what precious moments he could with his most bestest boyfriend ever.

Logan answered the door. Patton’s smile wavered as he took in Logan’s appearance. His hair was disheveled, his glasses were missing, and all he was wearing was a robe and boxers. There were dark bags under his eyes, and his lips were curved down in a frown.

“Oh my God, what happened Logan?” Patton gasped. He had never seen Logan look this unkempt.

Logan looked confused until he seemed to process Patton’s question. “Oh, nothing Patton. What are you doing here?” The whiskey on his breath wafted into Patton’s nostrils. Oh.

Patton didn’t answer as he tried to step past Logan inside. Logan tried to resist him but he stumbled. Patton scanned his eyes across the living room and couldn’t believe what he saw. There were books strewn about as if they had been tossed around. The couch was covered in tissues. There was a whiskey bottle on it’s side resting on the coffee table. Try not to think about it, Patton.

He jumped as Logan slammed the door. “What are you doing here, Pat?” Logan sounded...angry.

Patton turned to look at Logan. His blue eyes were bloodshot and puffy, as if he had been crying. Patton walked closer but Logan backed away. “Don’t.”

Tears formed in Patton’s eyes but he wouldn’t let them fall. He needed to know what was going on, so he kept walking forward until Logan was backed against the wall. He was a little shorter than his boyfriend, but that didn’t make his stare any less intense.

“Logan, Starlight, what’s wrong?” he asked softly. He tried to ignore the sob that was threatening to escape his throat. The cold fear stabbed his heart.

Logan put his hand on Patton’s shoulder to push him away, but he was too weak. His head lolled sideways as he tried to form a response. “Nuffin’” was all that he came up with. He then slid down the wall to sit on the floor. “Standing hard.”

Patton took a deep breath in to calm himself. He knew Logan needed him, so he shoved his worries and temptations aside and sat next to Logan on the floor. Once again he asked, "What happened?"

This time Logan didn't try to push Patton out. He leaned his head onto Patton's shoulders and cried. The sounds rang in Patton's ears like a twisted version of the bells in Logan's laugh. Patton's heart beat erratically in his chest like usual, except this time for much more heartbreaking reasons.

All he could do was put his arm around his love and rub his shoulders for comfort. Logan calmed a bit in response to the touch, as if Patton touching him gave him enough clarity to speak through the burning alcohol in his blood.

"A, uh, a student of mine passed away yesterday." Logan whispered, "Suicide," he choked out.

Patton suddenly saw why Logan seemed destroyed. He was a fairly new teacher, and chose to work at the middle school. He hadn't dealt with a student death before, especially one so young.

Patton felt the ice in his heart melt away from the empathy he held for his love. He unfortunately was very familiar with the beast of suicide.

So maybe that's what gave him the right words to say, "Starlight, you can't hold yourself at fault for the death of another. You did what you could, and in the end you lost a person close to you. However that doesn't lessen the worth of your efforts. Sometimes," tears fell down Patton's face like the rain outside,"Sometimes it feels like we're being swallowed whole. That simple things like getting out of bed in the morning is the same as jogging for six miles with no water or food. No matter the love we receive, sometimes our minds are filled with so much darkness we filter it all out."

Logan looked up at Patton. Even while intoxicated he understood what Patton meant by 'we'."Are you suicidal too?"

The question hung in the air between them. Lighting flashed through the windows and thunder followed suit. The silence between them was amplified by the electricity in the air. Between them a puddle of truth that Patton had to step into in order to reach the next step in their relationship.

"Why aren't you answering me?" Logan pleaded, tears once more flowing. His voice was gravel. He clung Patton's shirt in his fists and pulled himself to sit in front of him.

Patton's eyes were wide. Hiding the pain was always better. Making others smile was the only way to keep from adding more pain in this world. Yet he saw that with each second of silence he was hurting Logan more.

He decided to try a new way of soothing another's pain. "I was, as a child. I had a lot going on. I made an attempt at one point, even. But I survived. And now I’m glad I did, because I have you.”

Neither of them could speak after that, for there were no words. The two of them instead used their bodies to speak. Patton rubbing Logan’s back in small circles said ‘I love you’. Logan nuzzling into Patton’s chest while crying said ‘it hurts too much’. Logan taking Patton’s hand to move to the couch to cuddle meant ‘thank you’. Patton petting Logan’s hair said ‘You’re welcome’.

Logan kissing Patton’s thigh before falling asleep whispered ‘I love you too’.

~~~~

“I want you to accompany me to Thanksgiving dinner with my family.” Logan blurted one cloudy afternoon.

They had decided to go for a walk in the park by the coffee shop. Patton had forgotten his umbrella again, but Logan anticipated this, and brought an extra one. They had been walking in comfortable silence, taking in the image of the trees bare of their leaves. The world looked more toned down, which in a way calmed Patton. He loved the gray tones of the clouds in the sky, he loved the pumpkin patches, he loved the leaves, he loved the smell of rain.

Most of all, he freaking loved Logan in a scarf and jacket.

“Uh, what?”

“I want you to come with me to visit my family for Thanksgiving.” Logan repeated. The blush on his cheeks seemed to be deeper than being from just wind chill.

“Oh, um…” Patton was at a loss for words. Of course he wanted to go, but past experiences had told him that meeting the family wasn’t a good idea. “I don’t know…”

Insecurity crept it’s way into Patton’s mind. His exes had always been interested in him until he interacted with their families. He always told a joke that fell flat, always got too confused, always said something wrong. Always… did something wrong. However, he was a different person now. Plus he loved Logan so much...he just wasn’t ready to lose the love of his life through his own stupidity, or possibility of stupidity.

He obviously had been too quiet, because Logan stopped walking to look at Patton, his head tilting to the side in a way that tugged at Patton’s heart strings. Logan looking inquisitively made Patton feel important. When he puzzled Logan it wasn’t because he was a ditz, it was because Logan found him fascinating. The look on his face made Patton want to double check that his fears were unfounded.

“I mean, are you sure? What if I say something embarrassing?” Patton looked down at his shoes.

Logan lifted Patton’s chin up. Cool blue eyes chilled the heat in his heart. He felt his breathing get steadier with the solidity that was Logan. With one simple touch he felt roots planting into the ground beneath them, intertwining their souls to grow together forever. No wind could shake them. No storm could knock them down. In that moment, Patton knew there was nothing that could make Logan stop loving him. He also knew that he felt the same way.

“Sunshine, nothing you could do would make me unsure of how right you are for me,” Logan confirmed.

He cupped Patton’s cheek with his hand, “Your face was made to fit within my hands, for you are my world.”

His other had wrapped around Patton’s torso, pulling him closer, “Your body was made to be against my own; for you are my support.”

He leaned his forehead against Patton’s, “Your mind is the opposite of mine. Bubbly, bright, and full of light; for you are the sun to my moon.”

Logan’s lips brushed Patton’s, and he whispered, “Your lips were meant to kiss me; for your name is my prayer to the stars.”

Logan then kissed Patton in a way that felt different than their other kisses before. He felt as if he was being pulled back into his body. He embraced his love and they twirled, lips never parting. In that moment the two of them knew what it was to find what fit in the empty space within their souls.

Being grounded within Logan helped push his insecurities, fears, and old demons to the side. Logan’s arms were where he needed to be.

~~~~

Patton felt his nerves were firing up to the point he couldn’t sit still. It was a two hour drive to Logan’s brother’s house. Logan was in the driver’s seat, which was a good thing because Patton was too excited to concentrate. He was wearing his Thursday Best. He had an off-white cardigan on with a light blue polo underneath. He rubbed the palms of his hands over his freshly ironed khakis. It was the only thing he could do to stave off the need to bounce his leg.

“Hey, Starlight?”

“Yes, Sunshine?” Logan’s voice was deeper than normal. When he was concentrating on something else his voice dropped, and it sent butterflies flying in Patton’s stomach every time.

“Does your family know I’m coming with you?” Patton didn’t want to intrude

“They know I am bringing a plus one, yes.” Logan’s response was curt.

“A plus one?” Why did that leave a sick feeling in Patton’s stomach?

Logan sighed, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “I...I never dated anyone before you.”

Patton was stunned. He was Logan’s first boyfriend, first partner...ever? He knew Logan didn’t have much experience with relationships...but he didn’t know ‘not much’ meant ‘none at all’. “Why not?” he couldn’t help but ask. Underneath his question was ‘why me, then?’

Logan took a minute to form a response. The downward curve of his mouth told Patton that his boyfriend was at a loss for words. He waited patiently for the response, choosing to look out the window at the rain falling around them in the daylight.

“I never found anyone who I saw as compatible enough to risk a relationship. I didn’t want to start something that was doomed to fail.” Logan blushed, “I guess you are the one for me, I never questioned my attraction to you. I never had to list the pros and cons of starting a courtship.”

“Awww...Starlight,” Patton cooed, “I love you too. Thank you for taking the risk, because if you hadn’t I don’t think I’d be here.” There was some truth to his statement, they were getting into the time of year when he started feeling…wrong.

“Well, obviously, it’s my car.”

Patton laughed, “Dad joke!”

Logan groaned, “You know I didn’t do it on purpose.”

They both chatted and sat in silence on and off until they pulled up to the house. Anxiety crawled up the back of Patton’s neck like a spider. He shivered. When Logan opened the door for him he didn’t move to get out.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Logan asked, concerned.

“I’m a bit..scared…” Patton admitted with a whisper.

“You’re going to be okay, I promise.” Logan reached his hand out. Patton had no choice but to climb out of the car to grab the steadying hand of his lover.

They walked hand in hand up the path to the house. The sun was starting to set, which set orange and pink hues splattered on the yellow house. If the family inside were as inviting as the outside of their home, Patton would have no problem fitting in.

Logan knocked on the door. His expression was his usual neutral stare. Patton felt Logan grip his hand tighter as the door was opened by a man who looked like Logan, but younger.

The man smiled and pulled Logan into a hug, which Logan stiffened in. “Good to see you, brother! Hey, who’s the friend?”

“Patton, this is my brother Thomas. Thomas this is my-” Logan paused, they hadn’t exactly had a chance to discuss how he’d be introduced. Evidently Logan decided for Patton and boldly proclaimed, “My boyfriend.”

Thomas’ eyebrows raised. “Well, that explains, um, a lot.” He then turned to Patton to shake hands with a bright smile, “It’s nice to have you over, Patton. Welcome, and come on in.”

They entered the house and the inside was even more inviting than the outside. The living room they had walked into had two couches. There was a fireplace in one corner, and in the other corner next to it was an entertainment center. The room’s walls were decorated in family photos, and some awards.

Patton was in awe, it was very different from his family’s home when he was growing up. The lighting was soft, warm and welcome. He loosened his grip on Logan’s hand just a bit. He felt more relaxed.

Not acknowledging the other people in the room, his eyes zoned in to the creature on the floor.

“Cat!” he loudly whispered to Logan.

Logan didn’t have time to form a response because conversations in the room ceased to look at them. Patton noticed that Logan was very uncomfortable, but he couldn’t figure out why. They all seemed like nice people.

An older woman came up to them, her smile was so bright. Patton couldn’t help but smile in return.

She reached out to shake hands. “I’m Matilda, Logan’s mom. Thank you for joining us.” Her voice reminded Patton of warm chocolate chip cookies. Her eyes were blue like Logan’s but more lively, full of stories and experiences only an older person would have.

He shook her hand back, “Nice to meet you, I’m Patton.”

There were a few more members of the family to meet. They formed a bit of a line to make introductions easier. There was Thomas, who owned the home. Matilda, Logan’s mom. One of Logan’s cousins, Jeff, and his teenage son, Virgil. Virgil didn’t introduce himself per se, he just looked up from his phone when he heard his name and waved halfheartedly. Patton didn’t take much offense, he remembered being a teenager once.

Once he had greeted everyone, he kept his eyes on the small cat perched on the windowsill. It was a lovely little long haired calico. Patton loved calicoes. He so badly wanted to go over and pet it, but he hadn’t thought to bring his allergy medication. He was so focused on the cat that he didn’t hear Logan say his name.

“Sunshine, Patton, Patton!”

“Oh, sorry Logan. What were you saying?” he asked, blushing a bit.

“We’re going to the dining room to eat dinner. Are you going to join us or continue staring at the cat?” Logan asked, seeming a bit annoyed.

Patton tried not to notice the edge in Logan’s voice, instead he chose to smile and put his hands on his hips. “I haven’t been introduced to the cat yet, Logan. It’s rude to go eat if I haven’t even met all the residents of the home.”

Logan rolled his eyes, “Sunshine, you’re allergic.” Patton took his hands up to his face to try to give his boyfriend the puppy eyes. He knew Logan couldn’t resist his pleading face for long.

Finally Logan gave in, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Her name is Surefoot.”

Patton turned back to the cat and cooed. “Awe, Surefoot, what a pleasure to meet you. Unfortunately I have to go eat, but it was mice to meet you meow.”

He giggled as Logan groaned. “Can we go eat now?”

Patton nodded and went to join the rest of the family. The dinner was amazing. He got along great with Logan’s family. They were so fun to hang out with. Thomas didn’t bat an eye when Patton denied a glass of wine. Matilda laughed with him over some embarrassing stories of Logan as a child. Even Virgil chimed in a few times.

After Logan had some food, his mood seemed to get a bit better. He also seemed relieved at his family’s easy acceptance of Patton. The two kept making side glances at each other. Thank you, Logan’s eyes seemed to say.

Patton’s kiss on his cheek was his way of saying you’re welcome.

525,600 Minutes

Winter

Logan hated winter.

He hated the snow, he hated driving in the snow, he hated the sun reflecting into his eyes from the snow. He hated the kids shouting around him when he went to work during a snowball fight. He hated when school got canceled last minute because of the snow.

This year was a bit different. Maybe there was one good thing about winter…

Patton wearing a Christmas sweater was adorable as hell.

School had been canceled, so he had decided to sleep in. He wasn’t expecting Patton to be over that day, at least not in the morning. So he was surprised when he had gotten to the bottom of the stairs to see his boyfriend in the kitchen. He smelled bacon, and heard sizzling that suggested pancakes were being made. Christmas music was being played softly from Patton’s phone. Patton was bouncing and doing a little dance while he stood at the stove, back turned to Logan.

Logan saw that Patton was wearing a light blue and white sweater, with cats and dogs on the back. Logan couldn’t help but burst with happiness. He strode to come up behind Patton and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. Patton startled a bit but quickly relaxed against Logan. Logan peeked and saw that pancakes were being made. His stomach grumbled a bit, so he kissed Patton’s cheek and went to grab a piece of bacon.

“This is a nice surprise, Sunshine.” he commented.

Patton shrugged. “Well, I couldn’t sleep well, so I thought I’d bring some groceries over and make you breakfast. Especially since school was canceled.” Logan noticed Patton’s smile was bright but a bit..off.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” Logan asked, paying extra attention to Patton’s face.

Patton stared down as he flipped the pancakes over. “No reason to be concerned, Starlight. Just couldn’t sleep is all.”

Logan had grown to notice Patton very well. He spent so much time looking at his love’s face. He had memorized every inch of Patton that he could. He knew how his curly hair puffed after waking up, he knew how his freckles nearly disappeared when he blushed, he knew all of Patton’s different smiles.

So obviously he knew when Patton was faking it.

There was a bit of silence between them. Patton put the pancakes on a plate, reached behind Logan for some bacon, and avoided Logan’s stare. He set the food down at the kitchen table and sat down. Smiling up at Logan he asked, “You gonna join me, Starlight?”

Logan frowned as he sat down. He normally enjoyed Patton’s cooking but he felt everything was..off. Odd. He didn’t want to push Patton, but he couldn’t keep his curiosity in for long.

They both ate in silence until Logan had had enough. “Okay, Patton, what’s wrong?”

Patton looked startled. “N-nothing, I just-”

“You couldn’t sleep, I know. But I also know that you like to avoid talking about your negative feelings. Please let’s just avoid the tooth pulling and just tell me.” Logan didn’t mean to sound mad. He was just frustrated.

Patton was flushed with embarrassment and looked down. “I-I just..” he closed his eyes, and Logan noticed a teardrop from Patton’s face, “I just was feeling really down last night. It was pretty bad, that happens a lot in the winter. I start feeling...bad, for some reason. Wrong.” he pushed his plate away and laid his head in his arms, sobbing, “I’m wrong!”

Logan felt his heart starting to splinter. He hadn’t meant to ruin the mood. He didn’t mean to push, and he certainly hated the idea of being the reason the love of his life was crying.

Logan gently stood up and knelt beside Patton. He didn’t ever imagine what he would do if his love had fallen apart. He laid his hand on Patton’s back and felt the wracking sobs vibrate within his own bones. His heart rate increased the the growing sorrow he felt for hurting the one person he needed. With each sob from Patton he felt his head spin even more.

“C’mon love, let’s move to the couch for a bit, yeah?” he pleaded. He needed to hold Patton in his arms and take all the burdens of the world away. He needed to hold his love steady enough in order to hold himself together.

Patton nodded and stood up with Logan’s help. Immediately, before Logan could see his face, he was embraced by Patton. The arms around his torso tortured him with their shaking. He held back his own tears and fears as he guided Patton to the sofa in the living room. Patton leaned his head on Logan’s lap and nuzzled. Logan would have found the action adorable if it weren’t for the fact that the reason why was still a mystery.

He didn’t exactly know what to do, so he followed his instincts. He started stroking Patton’s hair. He curled the locks around his fingers, loving the feel of soft chocolate smoothly running through his digits. He gazed down Patton’s body curled up on the couch. Even in the man’s sorrow, he still looked like the human representation of a precious cinnamon roll.

Logan wasn’t much of a singer, however he knew that Patton loved his voice so he started to hum softly,

“Don’t try to make me stay

Or ask if I’m okay

I don’t have the answer,”

Patton stopped shaking. Logan kept going, noticing his partner winding down.

“Don’t make me stay the night

Or ask if I’m alright

I don’t have the answer”

He felt Patton take a deep breath in, no longer sobbing. He noticed his sweatpants were a bit wet from his love’s tears. He didn’t care.

“Heartache doesn’t last forever

I’ll say I’m fine

Midnight ain’t the time for laughin’

When you say goodbye”

Patton turned to look up and Logan, his eyes red from crying. The normal bright stars looked burnt out. In the back of his mind, he noticed that they had left Patton’s glasses on the kitchen table.

“It makes your lips so kissable

And your kiss so missable

Your fingertips so touchable

And your eyes irresistible”

Logan’s heart burst open with light at the sight of Patton’s small smile. “Sorry, Starlight. I didn’t mean to ruin breakfast for you.”

Logan gently motioned for Patton to sit up. Once he had obliged, Logan took the soft hands of the person who had become his world from the moment they’d first met. He looked into the eyes that had held so much sunlight in the days prior. He shoved the questions he had about that to the side as he spoke, “Sunshine, you could never ever ruin anything for me.”

He reached out to cup Patton’s chin. “You are my Sunshine for a reason. You shed so much light in every room you walk into. You are so much stronger than me, you have an understanding of others that I will never have. You…” Logan couldn’t find the words to express how much Patton meant to him, so he thought he’d try a different way to use his lips to express his love.

He held Patton’s cheek and kissed. He tasted the salt and snot from Patton’s crying but he didn’t care. To him it was the way Patton tasted when he fell apart, and he loved every part of this man. He loved his smiles, his laughter, his jokes, his obsession with cats, he loved the light side. He also discovered that morning that he loved the dark side. He loved the tears, the sobs, the shaking, the shallow breathing. Even though the cries pierced his heart, even though he wanted to fall to his knees as freely as Patton’s tears, he still loved. Through the pain and cries, and snot and tears his love for Patton pushed him through his discomforts of emotions.

Patton groaned against his lips, the sound more guttural than he had been used to before. The next thing Logan knew, his lap was full of Patton. He was being straddled by a man in a sweater with animals on it. He was a bit shocked at Patton’s bravado. Normally they didn’t engage in such heated endeavors. They hadn’t gone very far...physically… in their relationship. Logan was never ready, and Patton was so patient.

This time, though, he felt ready. He felt a primal need build up inside of him. His hands slid under Patton’s sweater to feel the hot skin of Patton’s back. He whimpered when Patton moved his lips away from their kiss, then gasped in shock when Patton started to kiss along his neck. He gripped Patton’s hips as teeth nicked against his collarbone.

His head was swimming in desire for the man on top of him. He wanted to take him. He wanted to feel...that feeling. He wanted to take in his love’s touch. He wanted to touch all over Patton’s body and be touched in return. He wanted to feel the fire from the beginning of their courtship. He wanted to be doused in the flames of those chocolate eyes raking over his body. He wanted to melt against the body of the brightest thing he had ever seen. He wanted to go all the way so bad, but he couldn’t.

He listened to the voice of reason in his ear pointing out the possibility that Patton was trying to avoid the mess of the fit. He willed his fingers to pull away from Patton’s skin. He used all of his strength to gently push Patton away from his neck.

“Starlight, please,” Patton whined. Logan almost felt himself give in.

“No.” Logan denied. He noticed his voice was deeper than usual.

“Why not? I thought- I thought you wanted-” Patton’s eyes started to fill with rejection.

“I do!” Logan said quickly, not wanting to give the wrong impression, “I want it so bad. But not like this. Not under these circumstances.” He reached out to touch his love’s cheek, but was denied by Patton standing up.

“What, like you haven’t before?” Patton refused to look at him. Logan just sat on the couch stunned.

He needed Patton to look at him. “Sunshine, please, listen to me, come sit back down.”

Patton huffed, then sat back down, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Why not?”

Logan sighed, he hadn’t told Patton explicitly that he was a virgin. He had only mentioned that he hadn’t dated before. “I...I know you could tell that I don’t have much experience with intimacy. I know I’ve told you that there have been no others, but I meant it in all of the ways.”

An “Oh.” fell from Patton’s lips. “I’m sorry.”

 Logan smiled. “It’s okay. I still want to, and I know I’m ready, but I need to know first…” Patton looked away, “What happened?”

His love sighed, “I...I told you a while ago that I had been suicidal as a kid, after your student passed away.” Logan flinched at the memory. He wasn’t proud of the way he responded to the death, and he didn’t exactly want the reminder of the empty desk at the back of his classroom. However he let Patton continue.

“I have seasonal depression. In the winter I can get a bit… down,” Logan nodded, understanding what Patton was saying, “Normally I have been able to handle it. For about two years I’ve been managing...but this winter is especially hard for some reason.”

Logan scooted closer to put his hand on Patton’s knee, encouraging him to continue, “I guess I really missed you last night, you know?” Oh, how Logan did know, “But I didn’t want to disturb your sleep last night. So I just pushed through it. I tried to stuff it down. I felt icky and gross, kinda like I do now.”

Logan smiled softly and said, “You’re still glorious to me.”

Patton smiled and let out a laugh, “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

The conversation would have continued, if it weren’t for both of their stomachs growling for breakfast. They both laughed.

“Let’s try to have second breakfast, yeah?” Patton asked while standing up.

All Logan did was gaze after the retreating form of his partner, admiring the animals on his cute sweater.

~~~~

It was December 24th. Logan and Patton had decided to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning together. Patton was acting so bouncy it was nearly intoxicating. Logan wasn’t one to celebrate Christmas much, outside of going to his brother’s house for a family dinner. He never decorated outside of a small tree in the front window to give a feeling of participation with his neighbors for the holiday.

So it was a bit of a shock to come home to his living room resembling Santa’s workshop.

He had walked into the sight of garland strung along the staircase. There were figurines of angels, elves, santa claus, reindeer, and on the center of the coffee table was a small nativity scene.

The biggest shock of all was the tree in the window.

Patton was humming along to the music he had put on, and was stringing the lights along the bottom of the real, giant green tree. Patton was too distracted to notice that Logan had come in, which was a blessing because it meant that Logan could watch Patton shimmy around the tree, being his adorable self.

Patton swayed his hips while he sang. Once the lights were set, he reached into the box behind him and pulled out more garland. He had a smile on his face, and the soft glow on his face from the colored lights made it all the more miraculous.

He noticed the song Patton was singing along was a bit...well, it was certainly outdated.

“I really can’t stay,” Patton sang

“But baby it’s cold outside”, the singer on the music player responded.

Logan smirked as he quietly snuck up behind his love.

“I’ve got to go away,” Patton continued, oblivious to Logan’s presence behind him.

“But baby it’s cold outside,” Logan crooned deeply while wrapping his arms around Patton.

Patton yelped, and would have jumped if it hadn’t been for Logan’s strong grip around his waist. “Oh, Starlight, you scared me,” he let out a relieved giggle.

Logan rested his chin on Patton’s shoulder, giving a kiss onto the man’s neck. Patton must have been baking, cause he smelled like gingerbread. He was wearing the blue sweater again, the material soft on Logan’s face. Logan couldn’t help but run his nose up and down the smooth flesh. He left kisses wherever he could. Patton doing this grand gesture for him only reinforced his need.

He had a craving for every bit of light Patton exude. Patton’s laughter was his drug, he was in bliss at the sight of that crooked smile. The freckles were constellations in shapes Logan could never imagine to exist. The stars had disconnected from him that summer evening because they knew their time was up. Their beauty was no match for the man now squirming in his grip.

“I’m going to pull you away from your decorating for a bit, is that satisfactory?” Logan whispered. He took the pleased whimper in response as a yes.

He turned Patton around and gave the most passionate kiss he could muster. He was ready. He was ready and the lights were perfect. The love was in the air, so thick he was drowning. They nearly knocked some of the decoration boxes down trying to make it up the stairs. Logan didn’t know where his new bravado was coming from. It was as if he were under a spell. The fire was back in his veins, roaring louder and hotter than he could bear.

The cold outside was no match for the heat in his cheeks as he pulled Patton onto his bed with him. They had both slept next to each other before. He knew that this time was different. This was more. This was further than he had ever thought he would go in his life.

Before Patton, he was content. Before Patton, he was fine without having a companionship outside of friendship. Before Patton, he could breathe on his own. Before Patton, he had only the bare minimum to get through life. Before Patton, he only needed the stars in his eyes in order to stave off loneliness. Before Patton, he was incomplete.

With Patton, he knew what it was like to step into the sunlight. With Patton, he was never alone. With Patton, he had warmth in his bed for the winter. With Patton, even his home reflected the utter joy he felt every second he spent thinking about his love. With Patton, he didn’t need the stars. With Patton, he wasn’t alone. With Patton, he was in love.

They spent that night blending their bodies into each other. Logan had no idea how he had got on without those feelings in the past. With each new touch he put on Patton, he forgot his before. Patton kissed all the cold away from every inch of his skin. They both knew what warmth in the winter felt like, and Logan never wanted to leave his love’s side ever again. They had reached a level of pure intimacy that he knew would destroy his soul if it disappeared.

After he reached the highest of heights, Patton pulled him back down to earth to lay on his shoulder. They stayed in bed for a while, tracing their fingers over each other’s bodies. He gazed at the sweaty brown curls resting on his chest. They laid in peaceful quiet, taking in the first breaths of fresh air since their first kiss.

“I never finished decorating the tree, Starlight, and tomorrow’s Christmas.” Patton whispered, looking up at Logan.

Logan couldn’t help but grin at the concern on his, now lover’s face. “Well, there’s always next year to have the chance to finish.”

Patton sighed with a dreamy smile, sitting up to peck a kiss on Logan’s nose. “Well, then I’m going to head to the shower to get cleaned up, wanna join me?”

Logan shook his head, “I need some water before I can even consider leaving the bed.”

Patton brought him a glass of water, then walked to the door before looking over his shoulder to get one last glance at Logan, “Merry Christmas, Starlight.”

“Merry Christmas Sunshine.”

~~~~

Logan never understood the meaning behind the phrase ‘time flies when you’re having fun’. Frankly, he never was able to imagine how time would feel differently passing depending on the activities. Did time move slower for others when they were sad? Did the seconds on the clock tick at a greater speed than he was able to hear? Had everyone been privy to a secret of the way time worked that he was being kept in the dark of? Evidently, yes, because he was surprised that the New Year was just one day away.

Patton had made the plans for the holiday, but was keeping them a secret. It was a miracle he was able to hold it in, because he was so excited every time Logan brought it up. As New Year’s Eve drew closer, it was like Patton was literally vibrating constantly. Though it was endearing the first few days, eventually it was pushing a button on Logan that he didn’t understand. Perhaps it was because he did not like being kept in the dark.

“Hey, Starlight! You ready for tomorrow night?” Patton called as he walked into the door of Logan’s house.

“I don’t know how I could be ready, since I don’t know what our plans are.” Logan snarked.

Patton laughed. “Well, someone is a grumpy gus. Don’t worry, I know you’ll love it.”

Logan just rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, hoping for a distraction from his heightened annoyance. He didn’t want to hurt Patton’s feelings, he genuinely wanted to be excited, but surprises were hard for him to come to grips with. His family had stopped bothering to surprise him with birthday parties by the time he was five because he would always figure it out.

So why couldn’t he think of a possible way Patton would surprise him?

His boyfriend was such a wild card, he noticed with the seasonal depression being intense it meant that Patton was even more...emotional. Not that he minded, it was just a bit too much for him sometimes. He felt so guilty. He knew it wasn’t Patton’s fault, and truth be told he noticed the vitamin D supplements he gave to his love for Christmas were starting to make a difference.

Patton sat next to him, a dreamy smile on his face. “All I could think about at work was your handsome face.”

Logan huffed, “I hope it didn’t hinder your work.”

“No, it didn’t…” Patton trailed off, “Is something bothering you, Logan?”

Logan put his phone on the coffee table and sighed to himself. It was probably a good idea to get his feelings off of his chest in case it interfered with his reaction to the surprise in store for him. He leaned back to look at Patton, who seemed really nervous. That made it more difficult to form the words he needed.

“I love you, you know this, right?” Patton nodded. “I have been feeling...more irritable lately.”

“Why?” Patton’s eyes were watery already.

“Nothing you’ve done, per se. I just don’t really like surprises, so when you’re reminding me of it constantly it’s been a bit, well, grating on my patience.” He eyed Patton warily, waiting for an emotional response.

Instead, Patton just deflated. “I’m sorry,” he put his face in his hands, “I just wanted to give you a good New Year’s, but the plans weren’t set in stone, and so it was a surprise so I didn’t get your hopes up. I only just got confirmation today...and, and, and,” Patton curled up in a ball, still hiding his face. Though Logan didn’t need to see his lover’s face in order to tell he had started crying.

He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the urge to roll his eyes. He gently laid a hand on Patton’s knee. He reminded himself that winter would be almost over, this season would pass, and he shouldn't be so selfish to ignore his lover’s mental health problems.

“Sunshine, I’m sorry,” he truly was, “I guess I was wrong to assume you were trying to annoy me.”

“Annoy you?!” Patton’s head jerked up, heartbreak starting to form in his eyes.

“No! No, that's not what I-” Logan tried to say.

Patton stood up quickly, backing away. Betrayal took over his face like the dark shadow of an eclipse. Immediately Logan felt colder. Freezing. He knew what was happening. He was going to be put in the dark if he made one wrong move.

This moment came in every couple’s life. The highs crash into a low. The clear skies were replaced with stormy pain. It was the first test to see if they would make it.

“Patton, Sunshine, please sit down, I’m sorry,” he pleaded.

Patton smiled, but it was empty. He shook his head, dismissing Logan’s apology. “I should have known. I should have known you were no different from the others.”

Logan stood up. “Please don’t say that,” he whispered, “please don’t.”

His lover wiped the tears off of his face. “I’m sorry. I guess I thought I was better with you. I guess I thought I could be different with you. I guess I thought,” he tried to close his eyes to stop the tears, “I guess I thought I’d get to do what I wanted tomorrow night.”

Patton made his way to the door. Logan moved as quickly as he could. His tears fogged up his glasses but he didn’t care. He caught Patton’s sleeve and he got down on his knees. I can’t lose him, he thought to himself.

“I can’t lose you Sunshine. Please don’t leave. Please, I’m sorry I used the wrong word. I promise you weren’t-” he let the tears fall, exposing his heart, “I love you.”

Patton looked down at him. The fire in his eyes that Logan was used to was burning him, and for once it was painful. It wasn’t the comforting warmth he was used to, it wasn’t the fiery passion he needed. It was painful. His skin was burning and it was at the hands of Patton.

He leaned his forehead against his lover’s hand. “Please. I’m sorry. Please. I’m sorry.” he repeated over and over, a prayer for mercy.

Patton opened the door, took his hand from Logan, and pulled something out of his jacket pocket. “I’m going to go for a walk. Here’s your stupid... annoying, surprise.” he tossed a small box into Logan’s hands and slammed the door.

The small item burned a hole through his hands. He stayed there, on his knees, waiting for Patton to return like the loyal dog he was. He couldn’t believe what he’d done. One slip up, one misspoken word, one poorly timed comment- and his heart was shattered.

Tears were flowing freely from his face. This was the pain he had tried to avoid for thirty years. For years, he avoided attraction and courtship, in fear of what he was feeling. Kneeling at the door, waiting for Patton’s return.

He looked down at the box. It was a small black box wrapped in dark blue ribbon. He undid the ribbon, lifted the lid, and put a hand to his mouth to keep himself from screaming.

Inside the container was another box, obviously from a jeweler. Logan knew it’s contents before he opened it. He still needed to know. He needed Patton’s love and this was the closest he could get. Holding his breath in, he lifted the lid of the jewelers box. Inside was the most beautiful ring he had ever seen. Three deep blue sapphires set against a sterling silver band.

All thoughts of how early it was in their relationship never came. Just barely over four months seemed perfect to him in that moment. This ring gave him hope-hope that Patton would return to him to hear his answer. He lifted it out of the box with shaky, pale fingers. There was an inscription.

My Starlight

Logan tried to put the ring on his ring finger, it was a bit too loose, of course, Patton didn’t know his ring size. So he put it on his middle finger. It fit just fine. So close, but so so far.

He moved himself to the couch, still staring at the ring. He whispered a prayer to any of the stars above that Patton would return.

The stars must have burnt out in the night, because he never did. That night, or the next. So with new heartbreak came a new year.

525,600 Minutes

Spring

Springtime was usually a sign to Patton that the dark days were over. The sun making its way out of the storm clouds was the message to him that he survived. Every flower bud told him he made it past the winter. This year, however, he didn’t respond. The season coming in was a lie.

It was just another early spring sunrise peeking into his window. It was February 7th. One more week until Valentine’s day. If he had just not been so quick to overreact, he’d be where he belonged. Waking up to the bare bit of sun with the only person who would enjoy it enough. Instead, he woke up in his apartment. His dark, messy, lonely apartment.

Like he had done every morning since the mistake, he went to his fridge to search for a beer. He had been sober for two years when he had met...him. He had finally gotten a job that he was good enough at to stick with. He had finally had all the pieces of the puzzle complete. Perhaps he jinxed himself by trying to rush into the next step of his life. Maybe by buying the ring so soon, he had set in stone the doom he knew would come.

That’s why he walked out. He knew he had already corrupted the only good thing in his life. He was so disgusted with himself. So...icky. He felt wrong. That day he cemented that fact with slipping up. Without Logan, without his steady presence, he kept slipping further down the rabbit hole.

Work had stopped calling him to come in, and after two weeks he got an email saying that he had been terminated, and to come in to collect his last paycheck. He never did. Let Skye keep her money.

However, he was disappointed when he was confronted with an empty fridge. He used the last little bit of his savings to cover rent. He felt anxiety grip his chest. He knew he needed to go pick up that check after all.

He didn’t bother changing into suitable clothes. His clothes were all dirty anyways. He just put his cardigan on over his pajamas. Grabbing his wallet and phone, he left.

The light outside was too bright. The false reminder that hope was right around the corner. He put his hand up to block the sun. To block the truth. To block the facts that he was screwing up royally.

He always walked as much as he could. He did have a car, he just chose to walk whenever he could. When he was in the rehab program a year ago, they had told him walking was a good way to distract from the troubles that tempted him to drink. What an irony that he was now using that to go get what he needed to keep going down the rabbit hole. He wondered to himself if he ever did tell Logan that he was an alcoholic. Probably not. He had been too open already, and he didn’t need Logan to pretend to worry about him more.

He frowned as he came up to the coffee shop. There was a reason he avoided the place. It was a harsh reminder to what once was. What was a building full of new opportunities became a building of false hope. He planned to go in as quick as possible then leave as soon as the money was in his hands.

The bell rang above his head as he entered. He remembered the way it rang when Logan had walked through the door. Now, the ring was a shout ringing in his head about how wrong he was.

He walked up to the counter to see Skye, the owner herself, running the counter. Worry filled her eyes as she took in Patton’s appearance. “Wow, Patton, are you okay?” she asked, concern lacing her voice like a thick fog.

He smiled, feeling more hollow, “Yeah, just a lazy day. I’m here for the check.”

She didn’t seem convinced, and he couldn’t blame her. “Yeah, I’ll get it in about fifteen minutes when it’s my turn for break. Why don’t you sit down and wait?”

Patton just shrugged and sat at the table in the corner by the window. Their table. He was a masochist. Maybe the promise of this spring was the promise to remind him of his failures. Failure to stay sober. Failure to to dress himself properly. Failure to keep a job. Failure to keep-

Almost as if the universe were out to punish him further, the bell above the door rang. He saw the slicked back black hair and quickly turned his back to the counter. Please, please don’t see me like this.

He heard the usual order come from Logan. He almost felt the twitch in his fingers to put the order in the register.

He barely heard Skye say something else to Logan. Hoping to himself that she wasn’t pointing him out. He knew this was not going to be the case. Skye cared about them both. She wanted to make sure her friends were okay.

He didn’t want Logan to see him like this. Broken, small, a failure. He curled up in the booth, painfully aware that he and Logan were the only ‘customers’. He knew the moment Logan saw him because he could feel that familiar warmth of his gaze on his shoulder. He closed his eyes. He didn’t need to cry. It was over. He didn’t need to cry. It was over. That’s why he needed to cry, though. It was over.

“Hello, Patton.” Logan greeted.

Patton turned to see Logan standing above him. Logan looked very put together. He looked normal. His clothes were neat, his hair was tidy, and he was carrying his iced coffee like when they first met. It was like being taken back to the past. However, it was a dulled reflection. Logan’s blue eyes weren’t lit up with curiosity, they were iced over. His mouth wasn’t twitching up into a smile, his face was extremely neutral. While Patton’s appearance screamed and outed his heartbreak, Logan’s heartbreak was just a whisper.

“Hi.” It took everything in his power to not call him Starlight.

Logan gestured to the booth, silently questioning if he would sit. Patton just nodded.

Logan sat across from him, a sigh escaped from their lips both. Patton had already started to feel Logan’s grounding presence. For the first time in over a month, he felt hope. Was this the promise of spring?

“I’d ask how you are doing, but I can tell by the silence between us after you left, and your appearance, you are not doing well.” Logan remarked with no tact.

Patton looked out the window. There were couples walking by, children walking with parents. Every single one had a smile on their face, glancing up at the sky. Patton saw that spring had blessed them with kept promises.

“I’m not. I’m not okay one bit,” Patton started, “I don’t have any excuse, or reason, and frankly I’m still a bit drunk from last night so I’m not sober enough to talk about this.” He cringed at that last remark. Logan didn’t know. They had so little time he never told. He didn’t have enough time to tell him everything.

He risked a glance to see Logan nodding with pursed lips. There was a moment of intense silence before Logan started to talk, “I don’t blame you, you know. I don’t hate you, either, and looking at you now after the month that’s passed just shows me that you hold as much pain as I do.”

Patton closed his eyes, “You clearly don’t seem to be in as much pain as me.”

Logan slammed his fist on the table, causing Patton to jump. “Bullshit, Patton.” Patton took in a breath. The ice cold exterior had broken and Logan was spilling over his raging river of anger. “Do you know how long I waited by the door? Do you know how long I stayed home, waiting for you? Do you know how often I called? I may not hate or blame you, because with all this pain I still love you, but I sure as hell am pissed.” Logan’s stare was more intoxicating than anything Patton had consumed.

“I know,” Patton said simply. “Where’s the ring?” he asked, looking at Logan’s bare hands. He hadn’t held any expectations, but it still hurt to see the reminder of what he threw away.

Logan loosened his tie and pulled out a chain, and on it the ring. “It didn’t fit, and I wanted to wait to resize it until you came back.”

He could no longer hold back his tears. Seeing that Logan still held onto hope while Patton threw all of his away showed him just how far he had strayed. He wished so badly he was redeemable enough to go back to the way it was before. He felt so wrong. He leaned his head in his hands. The fog cleared his mind with every sob that escaped from him. He saw the mess he had created. He saw his overreaction to everything. He saw that Logan still carried hope, possibly for them both.

He noticed when Logan had reached over and started to stroke his hair. The way his curls fit around Logan’s fingers made him feel homesick. He used one of his hands to reach across the table, and with no hesitance Logan grasped him. “I’m so sorry, Logan.” he got out.

“I forgive you, Sunshine.” Logan said gruffly. Patton looked up to see Logan was also crying, just more quietly than him. “Please tell me what happened? Please tell me where you went? Just tell me why you never came back.”

The pleas actually reached Patton’s heart. The storm clouds had parted in his mind. He calmed himself down and sat up.

Before he could start to explain, Skye came up to them with an envelope in her hands. She just set it on the table and patted Patton’s shoulder. Her green eyes were filled with pity, and he noticed her go to the door and switch the sign to ‘CLOSED’. He was silently grateful for the privacy she was giving them. He didn’t deserve her kindness after the way he treated the job she had given him.

“Okay,” he breathed out, “Okay.”

Logan sat there, waiting for a response. “I guess,” he started, “I guess I was afraid. I was afraid that I had messed it all up. I didn’t want to give you that ring in the way I did. I was afraid, so I slipped up when I left. I went to the bar,” he closed his eyes in shame, “I went to the bar after two years of being sober. Then when I woke up the next day, not knowing where I was, just in some abandoned house...I hadn’t been that low in years.

I didn’t want to face you after that. We hadn’t even talked much about who I was before you. I couldn’t tell you like that. I couldn’t show you my dark side like...that. So I didn’t. I didn’t, then I just stopped trying to get through it all. I stopped caring,” he choked, “I stopped caring about the progress I threw away. So I threw the hope I held for our future away too.”

He stopped when Logan grasped both of his hands. Logan’s eyes weren’t full of judgment, or pity, or even anger. He still looked so in love it hurt Patton even more. He wanted Logan to be angry with him. “Why aren’t you angry with me yet?”

“Why should I be?” Logan asked, “Why should I punish you more than you’ve already punished yourself?”

Patton shrugged, not knowing how to respond to that logic. He sighed. He didn’t know what to do, he never thought he’d be this close to Logan ever again.

Logan started rubbing his thumbs over Patton’s hands. “Come home with me, Sunshine. I can’t- I can’t bear to see you like this. Please.” It wasn’t a question. It was near a demand.

Patton smiled softly at the man in front of him. He was nowhere near okay, but the promise of spring was that they will both be there someday.

He agreed, “Okay, Starlight.”

Logan hung his head in relief. “It’s so good to hear you say that, Patton.”

~~~~

Patton woke up shaking. He hadn’t been able to stop shaking for three days. He did not miss the withdrawal. He was shaky, he was anxious, and he had been vomiting non stop. His body ached, and he was on day 6 of being sober.

Logan had to go back to work after the first two days since Patton had come back to his house. He left the school’s number on the coffee table, bathroom mirror, fridge, and bedroom door. Reminders that he wasn’t alone. He didn’t want to be an annoyance again, but Logan insisted that he wasn’t. There was a strain in his voice whenever he reminded Patton of this.

Patton tried to stand to head to the bathroom, but he wobbled. Dizziness came in waves along with the headache. He rubbed his cheek to get some feeling in his face. He felt numb. He kept going in between numbness, and extreme emotions. He felt like he was going crazy. He stumbled toward the black curtains. He peeked outside to see it was raining. He sighed, the weather was matching his mood.

He grabbed some of his clothes from the floor. Getting dressed sent pins and needles up his legs. He felt so miserable, and without Logan there, he felt cold. Taking baby steps hurt. It was definitely a fitting punishment for him.

He made it downstairs with no problem. He wanted to check the kitchen for food since he was hungry, but he knew it was pointless. He saw the spot on the kitchen floor where he had thrown up the chicken noodle soup Logan had made for him the night before. There was no indication of his sickness, Logan had been cleaning up for him with infinite patience. Patton felt a pang of guilt as he walked into the living room.

He sat on the couch, reaching for the now clean puke bowl Logan assigned to him. On the coffee table next to the sticky note of the phone number, was another note.

Please don’t hesitate to call me if you need. Also, if you can, please consider what you would like to do for Valentine’s Day tomorrow.

Patton started to tear up. Just last week he hadn’t thought he’d be spending Valentine’s day with his boyfriend. He thought he’d be back at the bar, probably hooking up with someone else to curb the loneliness he had felt. Instead, he was shivering, drowsy, and anxious. He was back at the beginning of recovery. This time, though, it was different.

Spring had brought him the promise that he didn’t need to be alone anymore. The rain outside was a healing one, washing away the wounds of his past to strengthen the budding future between him and Logan. He thought about what he wanted to do tomorrow. He didn’t want to go out, while so far that morning he was a bit stronger, he wasn’t strong enough to handle an outing. He thought about maybe staying in and watching a movie. It was boring, but he hoped Logan didn’t mind.

Logan, who didn’t deserve any of what Patton had given him since the new year. Logan, who had become so soft, so much more sensitive because of Patton. Logan, who he heard crying in bed when he thought Patton was asleep. Logan, who looked at Patton like he was a dream. Logan, who left sticky notes and was willing to be bothered at work than have Patton leave again.

It was too much, Patton thought to himself. Too much to think of by himself. He hadn’t been able to thank Logan properly, or talk properly, since the withdrawal had started. Logan had gone to his apartment to gather his things, and made sure Patton’s car was still safe in the building’s garage. Patton didn’t even ask to move in, he had just stayed because he was too weak to go back to his place. Logan didn’t seem to mind.

Sweet Logan. His comfort. His boyfriend. Was he? Were they back together? Doubt crept into his mind again. What if Logan was letting him stay there because he felt bad for him? What if Logan was crying at night because he was too hurt to have Patton lay in his bed with him?

Before he knew it, he had dialed the work phone number in his cell to call. He was shaking really bad. He wasn’t throwing up, and he could technically move on his own, but he didn’t want to be alone. He couldn’t be alone. He needed Logan to reassure him that it was going to be okay. He needed Logan to remind him of the promise of spring.

The office had connected him to Logan’s classroom phone. A student picked up, “Room 48, who is it?”

Patton tried to speak through the shakes, “A family f-f-friend. It’s an emergency, c-c-c-can I sp-sp-speak to L-Logan?”

The student didn’t verbally answer, but two seconds later he heard his voice on the line. His shakes started to subside a tiny bit as he took in Logan’s soothing voice. “What’s wrong?”

“I c-can’t st-stop shak-k-king” he stuttered out. He was trying to curl up in a ball as his stomach churned. “C-could y-you come hom-m-me early?”

Logan sighed on the line, and Patton’s anxiety skyrocketed. He caught Logan at a bad time. He was going to be bothered and cranky and-

“Give me thirty minutes, is that sufficient or do you need someone there sooner?” Logan didn’t sound annoyed, just concerned.

“Thirty is f-fine,” Patton whispered into the phone.

“I’ll see you then.” Logan promised, then promptly hung up the phone.

Patton just laid there on the couch and let the tears stream down his face. He was too tired and cold to sob. He reached for a blanket and pulled it over his head. He closed his eyes, and next thing he knew he was asleep again.

He woke up a bit later to Logan shaking his shoulder. “Patton. Patton, could you wake up for me?” Concern was lacing his voice which encouraged Patton to try to respond.

“Yes, Logan?” he responded sleepily. He was so tired, he wanted to go back to sleep. He couldn’t help himself and fell back asleep despite Logan’s protests. His voice was like a fading echo as Patton drifted off. Sleeping kept the headache at bay.

His eyes fluttered open to the sound of heavy boots walking toward him, and there was a flashlight in his face. He noticed on the ceiling there were blue and red lights, and a radio was playing a ton of voices. In the back of his mind he knew there was an ambulance.

He wanted to say something, but instead fell back asleep. Or was it sleep? Was the sleep actually him passing out? It might have been.

Next time he woke up there was a pain in his elbow. He opened his eyes slowly, and he definitely was not on the couch. He didn’t need to ask anyone to know he was in the ER. It wasn’t his first time. He saw the pain in his elbow was an IV, probably fluids. He looked to the other side of his bed to see Logan scrolling on his phone with one hand, and holding Patton’s hand in the other.

Logan heard Patton’s head turn, and looked up. Without a word he stood up and kissed Patton with such passion he might have passed out again just from the butterflies in his stomach. He tasted the salt in Logan’s tears. He was suddenly aware of how dry his own lips were, and his tongue, and his throat.

Logan broke the kiss to lean his forehead on Patton’s. “Thank you so much for calling me home, though I would like for you to refrain from giving me anymore heart attacks this year.”

They both dissolved into hysterical giggles. Logan kept kissing Patton all over his face. Patton couldn’t help but laugh. They continued the playfulness until a nurse walked in.

“Good to see you awake, sir. Could you tell me what you remember?” the nurse asked while swiping a card in a scanner by the computer.

Patton told him of how he had stopped drinking the week prior, how he had been having some pretty bad withdrawal, and how he had managed to call Logan before ‘falling asleep’. Logan held his hand through it all, encouraging him to continue when he was too embarrassed. Once he was done, the nurse checked his vitals and walked out.

Patton looked at Logan, blushing. “Sorry for all the trouble, Starlight.”

“Don’t despair Sunshine,” Logan raised a brow, “However, when I requested you consider where you wanted to go for Valentine’s day, this was not what I had in mind.”

Patton furrowed his brow until Logan showed him the time; twelve fifteen am.

Patton giggled again, ignoring the way his abs clenched in pain. “Oops, happy Valentine’s Day I guess.”

Logan just chuckled and shook his head. They both kissed one more time, not caring about the setting they were in. They were together again.

~~~~

May had come, and Patton was happy. The spring rains had stopped so the flowers were blooming everywhere. He loved seeing the flowers in the park open. The world was back to being full of bold colors. The promise of spring had been fulfilled. He was okay again.

He had just finished his interview with Skye. Skye, the ever so patient and caring friend, told him that once he made it to six months sober he could have his job back. Patton readily agreed to the deal. It was more than what he thought he would get.

He was on his way to his usual Thursday 3:15pm appointment. He had an exercise he’d been trying out to see if it helped his mood. On his way to the clinic, he’d make a mental list of three things that held beauty. It could not be the same three things each week. It had been working, and it made him more observant overall.

This week’s three things were: the last flower on the rose bush outside of Logan’s house was blooming, the bookstore had a new display in the window, and there was a golden retriever tied to a bike rack outside the barber shop. The dog had greeted him excitedly, and looking at his watch he had a few minutes to talk to the dog.

“Aw, you’re so gorgeous. I wish I could say hi longer, but I have an appointment to get to. You are adorable, and I hope you also have a good day.” He spent some more seconds petting the dog, and when he made to stand up the dog licked his hand. Bonus beautiful thing.

He made it to the building at 3:05 pm. It was a smaller, green building that sat between a thrift store and sushi bar. Patton wasn’t one for fish, but he knew Logan was. He wanted to take Logan to sushi, but he was going to wait until his first paycheck after returning to work. It was one more thing to motivate him to keep moving forward.

When he was called back to the office, he couldn’t stop grinning to himself. The room was decorated with all of his favorite cartoon characters. When he had first started coming to therapy, he was pretty shy. He had been through it before, and after a while it had gotten too predictable. He knew what he was supposed to do, and when he reached a year sober he wanted to try on his own.

Logan had brought up therapy as an idea, just to help with recovery since relapsing. The doctor was apparently a volunteer at the middle school, after being a grief counselor for the students after their classmate’s death in November. Logan had talked with the doctor when Patton had left. Naturally, Patton was hesitant at first. After a week of Logan talking incessantly about him needing therapy, he gave in. He couldn’t resist his boyfriend’s pleas for long. He learned that the hard way.

He sat on the black sofa, smiling at the Finding Dory poster behind the doctor’s desk. It was only a moment later when the doctor came in.

“Hello, Patton! Do you how do?” the man cheerfully greeted.

Patton grinned in response. They had only had four sessions together, but the rapport was such a good fit. “Hi Dr. Picani, I’m alright. I saw a dog on my way here.”

The therapist gasped, “Was it adorable?”

“Aren’t all dogs?” Patton posed. They both started laughing.

Dr. Picani sighed in relief. “So, what are your threes?”

“Well, the dog I met today. There was also a new display in the bookstore. The last one is that the rose bush in our yard bloomed the last bud.” Patton sighed dreamily, he had taken to tending to the yards since he had the time on his hands. He wasn’t very experienced, but the last rosebud blooming helped boost his confidence.

The therapist couldn’t stop smiling. “Would you like to explore those, or would you like to talk about something else?”

“Well,” Patton squirmed, “Kinda both? I noticed something when thinking about the rose bush.”

“Alright, I’m listening.” Picani grabbed his pencil and notepad.

“In February, when I was at my low point, I had told myself that springtime’s promises of new hope were lies. I had messed up something I loved, I had thrown away two years of sobriety, I mean,” he tried to correct himself. His last session they had worked on the reminder that relapse is a part of recovery. It just meant he had a new goal to reach, and did not discount the proof that he was capable. “That’s what I had thought.”

“When I was in high school, the only reason I tried to push through my struggles in winter was that lovely reminder that I was one day closer to Spring’s Promise,” he smiled to himself, “I’d get to see the flowers bloom.”

“I see,” the therapist nodded, “So the rose budding was a reminder that you had survived another cold winter?”

“Yes!” Patton exclaimed. It was nice to have a therapist who understood him this well.

Dr. Picani scribbled some notes on his pad, then looked up at Patton. “What was this spring’s specific promise? What made you think that this year the promise was a lie?”

Patton looked down at his lap. He had trouble finding the words he needed, and the doctor waited patiently. “I suppose...well I suppose this year the promise was that I was one step closer to, to, well…” Patton rubbed his face and chuckled nervously, “Sorry, I don’t know why I can’t say it.”

“It’s okay, Patton,” Dr. Picani assured softly, “You are safe here.”

Patton nodded. He was safe. He was safe, and he was okay, and he was alive. “That was the promise.”

All the man across from him could muster was an eyebrow raise.

“The promise was I would be safe. I would be secure. Secure in my relationship, in my job, in my sobriety- the promise of this spring was that I was safe. Then…” he trailed off, tears starting to form when the bad feelings in his chest started to resurface when he thought about it. He took the box of tissues Dr. Picani offered. “Thank you. Then I made one mistake and all of that safety was thrown away. The worst part is that I was the one who did the throwing.”

Dr. Picani nodded, adding some more notes on his pad. “Have you ever heard of self-sabotage?”

Patton scoffed, “Yeah, it’s probably the most popular phrase in rehab centers.”

“Hm. Do you know why that is?” Patton shook his head no, so the doctor elaborated, “A lot of people with addictions tend to self sabotage. When someone who gets the life they had always dreamed of, well they tend to have doubts about whether they really deserve it. Does that sound familiar to you?”

Patton nodded, starting to make connections, “So when the doubt comes in, it can be easy to blow one small bad thing into something huge?” He asked.

“Exactly! So when an inevitable, minor miscommunication happens, it can reaffirm that doubt. What is your first instinct when you feel afraid?”

Patton scrunched his eyebrows in deep thought. What was his first reaction? Obviously he ran away, but that was his first action. What was his first response when afraid?

“Hide. I want to hide, and I want to escape. I want to avoid it,” he answered.

“Why is that, do you think?” the therapist tapped his pencil against his chin in thought.

“Hm. I guess because it’s less painful. Drinking was my escape for a while...but then it didn’t last. It just caused more pain.” Patton looked the doctor in the eyes. “Is that why I ran from Logan that day?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” the other man responded, in classic therapist fashion.

Patton laughed a bit at that trope. Shaking the thought out of his head, he focused back on answering the question. “It is. I wanted to hide from the pain of our first real fight.”

Patton felt a release off of his shoulders when he made the confession. Realizing that the promise of spring was never broken, it was just delayed. He had been seeking security in all of the wrong places. He felt the final piece of the puzzle fall into place. Spring’s promise had been kept.

He came home right after Logan. Without hesitance he pounced onto his love and planted a kiss on the man’s lips. He held the man in his arms and felt the roots from autumn continue to grow beneath them. He was no longer scared of ruining it all. He felt secure in himself to be able to handle whatever challenges came his way.

Logan pulled back, a puzzled smile on his face, “It’s nice to see you too, Sunshine. What was that for though?”

Patton laughed and wrapped his arms around Logan. “I feel safe with you. Thank you for being my constant. Today I realized you’re as steady and eternal as the stars,” He planted another kiss, “Hm, maybe that’s why I call you my Starlight.”

Logan smirked against his lips. “I hate to break it to you, but the light of the stars we see are probably a result of the distance the light traveled. Some believe the stars we see have actually died.”

Patton giggled and playfully slapped Logan’s shoulder. “Shut up and let me be romantic.”

They kissed once more, smiling the whole time.

525,600 Minutes

August was almost over. Logan was very aware of what day it was for him and Patton. He couldn’t stop pacing in the living room while he waited for Patton to return from work. He had everything set up just right. There were candles flickering in the living room with the lights dimmed. He had gotten over his fears of what he had planned, mostly.

He and Patton had never fully discussed what his ring meant. At the time, it was meant to be an engagement ring. The reasoning being a bit extreme for Logan, and the fallout after, made him hesitant to accept an engagement. He still wore the ring on his neck. It was a reminder. It was a promise. He never took it off, up until that moment.

He was still pacing when Patton walked in. Patton’s brown eyes widened in astonishment at the setup. “Logan, Starlight, this is-this is magical.”

Logan cleared his throat nervously, and adjusted his glasses. “I uh, I have something I need to tell you. Let us sit on the couch?”

Patton nodded and sat down obediently. Logan wanted to sit, but he decided at the last minute it was better to stand and pace. It helped bring his thoughts together. “Patton, on this day last year I took a chance. I kissed you, and I have kissed you many times since.”

Patton nodded, “Yeah, that’s kind of what boyfriends do.”

Logan blushed, and stopped pacing to look at Patton. Looking at Patton, his lover, his light, his everything. If he had doubts before, he didn’t then. Patton’s curls in the candlelight made him see more clearly than he had a year prior. What was only mere suspicion was now a proven fact. He was ready.

Logan hesitantly, slowly knelt before Patton. A gasp escaped from the lips of the angel. The angel that was once a mystery. His beautiful, wonderful Sunshine. “In December, when you ran, I wasn’t ready. After we rejoined in February, you weren’t ready. Neither was I, truth be told. However, now I see you. You’re thriving. You’re shining brighter every day.”

Logan pulled his ring, the ring Patton had given him, out of his pocket and put it on his own ring finger.

Patton had tears streaming down his face. Rivers covering the freckles on his face. “It- it fits now?”

Logan nodded. “I had it resized, the same day I purchased this,” he pulled a ring box out of his other pocket. It was identical to the one he had received all those months ago from Patton.

Patton covered his mouth to quiet his happy sobs. Logan cleared his throat once more. He wanted to speak clearly. “You said one year ago that my affection was a rare honor that I had given to you. Would you be so kind as to return that honor, and marry me?”

Logan opened the ring box, showing a ring nearly identical to his. However, the sapphires were replaced with yellow topaz. Patton wiped the tears from his eyes, revealing a smile. He reached for the box to pull out the ring. He put it up to read the inscription.

“My Sunshine.” they spoke in unison.

Patton put the ring on, “How did you know to get the right size?” he asked.

Logan chuckled. “I had figured that you used your own finger as a measurement for mine.” They shared a laugh before Logan hesitantly asked, “So is this a…?”

Patton launched himself at Logan, knocking him over so they ended up tangled on the floor. Logan let out a grunt of surprise that seemed quiet compared to Patton’s scream of “Yes! Yes, yes, yes my Starlight!”

They embraced, laying on the floor in the candle light. They kissed each other all over. The two, Logan and Patton, the lights of the stars and the sun, had finally seen each other clearly.

They both laid there, staring at their hands, both wearing their matching rings. A fitting finale to their first seasons of love, and a fitting beginning to the rest of their years together.

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist of any of my ships!

#logicality #logicality fic #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #Mama Cesa writes #suicide mention #self deprecation #anxiety #alcoholism #arguing #one piece fic #oneshot #over 15k words

[smallandsneezy]

given the temperature you’re running

giles finds willow fast asleep and sick in the library and takes her home with him. that's it, that's the tweet. (don’t mind me, just publishing all my old fics on here) (ao3)

It was nights like these that Giles was sure he’d never attain one of those work-life balances everyone’s always talking about. As he pushed open the doors to the library, he looked at his watch. 1:34AM. Perfect. The school day would be starting six hours from now, giving him plenty of time to get some extra reading on metaphysics done before the first bell rang.

Suddenly, a soft sniffle came from the corner. Giles leapt a foot in the air, clutching his collar in a panic. What in God’s name could it possibly be this time? He flipped the lights on before edging his way deeper into the library’s depths, wishing he’d brought an extra stake with him.

Oh.

Willow sat at the table, fast asleep among the books. Giles battled the opposing urges of frowning disapprovingly or smiling fondly. Of course it was Willow. He’d left her in pretty much the same position, although on his last time seeing her she’d been far more conscious than she was now. He drew closer.

Her hair was sticking to her face. He frowned, and moved to fix it, before getting distracted with how hot and sweaty her brow was. She groaned in her sleep, almost nuzzling into the hand that sat at her forehead checking her temperature.

Giles quickly ran through the day. Yes, Willow has been quieter than normal, but these kids were so full of hormones that he’d learned to take their mood swings with a grain of salt. He poured back over their afternoon of research, cursing himself when he noticed the quiet coughs and balled up tissues that danced in the periphery. Bloody hell, he was thick.

“Willow?” he said softly, pushing her hair back from her sweaty cheeks.

“Mmmmm.” Her eyes fluttered open, not coming into focus for just a moment too long for Giles to be comfortable.

“Giles? What… what are you doing here?” her voice was croaky, and she made a valiant attempt to clear it but only succeeded in making Giles violently wish he had brought some warm tea with him.

“I could ask you the same question. What have I told you about staying in the library after 11?” His hands had moved from her forehead to her throat, as he felt for… something? Medical knowledge was the one thing he’d never really gotten around to.

“Sorry. I got distracted. I’ll just…go now.” Willow made to stand up, but made it all of half a knee bend before her legs gave out and Giles had to make a mad dive to keep her from slamming her head on the table.

“I don’t think you’ll find that to be happening.” Giles’s mind was going a million miles an hour. What was he supposed to do? Drive her home? Her parents hadn’t noticed she was gone, clearly, and she needed someone to keep an eye on her.

“Willow, aren’t your parents missing you?”

“They’re out of town this week. Work.” She had closed her eyes again, her head lolling to rest on her shoulder.

Bollocks.

“Well… would it… would it be alright… I think you had best stay with me.” Giles decided the name of the game would have to be confidence. He may not have any idea what he’s doing, but Willow didn’t need to know that.

“I…” she broke off to cough, a tight wheezing noise that made his own chest clench. “I couldn’t, I don’t want to put you out.”

“Willow, I insist.” Giles fought down the urge to pick her up and carry her to his car. “Let’s go. Do you have everything?”

She looked listlessly at him, a vague bashful look on her face. “I should stop by my locker. I think I need my inhaler.”

Giles felt his stomach drop out of him.

“Inhaler?” Internally, he catalogued every asthma trigger that they’d been around in the last 24 hours alone- simply the books sitting around her head were a hazard.

“It’s no big deal.”

Giles was quite sure it was actually a very big deal, but decided to save that matter until Willow felt better, or at least didn’t look like she was about to faint.

“Well, we’ll get it and we’ll go to my house. If you’re comfortable with that.” he threw in quickly, wondering if he was being too demanding. Willow let out a sneeze that doubled her over, and Giles decided he wasn’t being nearly demanding enough.

“God bless you. Come along Willow.”

Their drive home was quiet, passing mostly in sneezes and Giles saying “bless you”, it each time coming out more strangled. When they hit a light Giles removed his handkerchief from his breast pocket and placed it on Willow’s lap. He took it as a bad sign that she didn’t push back on this.

Normally Giles didn’t mind his car too terribly; it got the job done and him from place to place. Now, with Willow shaking like a leaf beside him, he prayed for a working heater. By the time they pulled into his driveway, Willow had nodded off yet again, her face resting against the window. The heat from her cheeks were fogging up the window around her, making it look like she had a halo. Giles turned the car off and sat for a moment, fighting the urge to let her sleep given the nighttime chill. Willow gave a pronounced shudder, and he decided enough was enough.

“Willow?” He reached out and gently took her shoulder. Willow’s eyes flew open, and she gasped, sending her into a coughing jag. Giles patted her back while he resisted the urge to hold the girl.

When the crackling noise emitting from her lungs had stopped, Willow looked over at him, her face red from exertion.

“Sorry.”

Giles decided that his first order of business after she was feeling better would be finding whoever had left her feeling the need to apologize for being ill.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Here, let’s get you to bed.” He let her walk by herself, albeit reluctantly, and led her into the large bedroom two doors to the right of the entrance way. Thank god he’d never gotten rid of the compulsive need to keep his room clean. He guided her to sit on the foot of the bed and turned to his dressers.

“Here are some clothes you can wear. You should keep warm.” He held out a pair of gray sweatpants and one of his older sweaters, carefully avoiding in his mind the alarm bells going off in his head. Was this unprofessional? Yes. But at the minute he didn’t really care.

Willow has accepted the clothing without question, looking up from the bed doing a thing with her eyes that made her look very young.

“I’m going to go make you some tea and see what medicine I have lying about. Go ahead and get changed and get into bed.”

“No!” The sudden sharpness in her tone startled him, and he immediately stopped in his tracks, turning to look at her.

“Is something wrong?”

“I can’t… I can’t sleep in your bed!” Her voice sounded like she’d swallowed a set of knives, something he couldn’t quite push to the back of his brain even as he considered this point.

“Well, I do understand it might be a tad strange, but given the temperature you’re running-“

“I really appreciate it! I do. I just… I don’t want you to be uncomfortable because of me.”

Giles very nearly laughed aloud.

“Willow, let me assure you that I would be far more uncomfortable letting you sleep on my couch given the current condition you’re in. And besides. My mother would have my head if she knew I made a guest sleep on a pull out sofa, especially,” he paused to allow Willow time to sneeze, taking a box of tissues from his nightstand and placing them in her lap, “if she was under the weather.”

Willow didn’t say anything more, simply began to shed her shoes and jacket, so Giles made his way to his kitchen, already dreading the lack of supplies he was going to find in his meager pantry. As the tea boiled, he put everything that could possibly be helpful out on the kitchen table. To her horrible hacking, which sounded just as painful a room over, he evaluated his loot.

A two year old pack of cough drops, generic. Enough Tylenol to kill a small animal. Honey, of which only a fourth of the bottle remained. He scoffed at himself. Given that his entire job was to protect the Slayer (and by extension, Willow and Xander), his medical supplies were only adequate if they were being used by a rock and roller treating a hangover the night after a concert. He resolved to go out first thing the next morning and pick up a battery of Dayquil and Nyquil, regardless of how expensive the miserable American healthcare system made it.

Tea with the remaining household honey in hand, he returned to his bedroom door. He stood quietly for a moment, listening. Nothing.

“Willow?�� His voice sounded weedy and worried and he cursed himself for his incredible lack of ability to be cool in any situation.

“Yeah?” It was a croak, but it was confirmation of consciousness so Giles took it as a win.

“May I come in?”

“Sure thing.”

He slid inside to find Willow already tucked in amongst his covers. His sweater dwarfed her thin frame, and she has already rolled the sleeves up several times to let her hands have any chance at being useful. She was very pale, even more so than normal, with the exception of her cherry red nose and her pink cheeks. Giles felt so overwhelmed with affection for her that for a moment all he could do was stand there and watch her blow her nose.

“Are you sure this is alright?” Her voice was uncertain, almost as though she expected to be kicked out at any moment, and the ideas that brought to Giles’s head made him angry so he decided to push them away to be dealt with at a more convenient time.

“Willow, I swear this is more than alright. Are you feeling fevered still? I have some Tylenol in the kitchen, I just didn’t have the hands with the tea.” He gestured his head in the direction of the nightstand, which held said tea.

“Speaking of which, you should really drink that. It should help your throat, and maybe your chest if we’re lucky.”

Willow complied, wrapping her hands around the mug and taking a sip. She sighed contentedly.

“Giles, you always make the best tea.”

Giles felt himself go pink with pride and pleasure, and quickly went to go find more handkerchiefs to hide how happy he was about having his tea-brewing skills complimented.

He dug through his linen closet for a while, assessing the pros and cons of each type of blanket. Fluffy ones would keep her warm, but she could overheat. A sheet was really the best option, but she had been shivering so much and he resented the idea of withholding anything from her.

When he came back, Willow was asleep. Her chest made soft crackling noises as she breathed, but she looked better than she had an hour ago when he’d found her asleep at the desk. Giles felt the tension in his shoulders unwind, just a little bit. He crept softly up to the bed, laying the blanket he’d decided on over top of his covers. He stood for a moment, just watching her breathe. Only after she rolled over to curl up even tighter did her realize that he still had metaphysics reading to be done. The book was likely still in the library, never even touched. He looked at Willow again.

Worth it.

Giles placed a soft kiss to Willow’s temple and shut the door quietly.

#shout out to buffy for getting me through the pandemic and for highlighting my daddy issues #fic #btvs

[bills-pokedex]

{Whoops, wrote myself into a bit of a corner. Please accept this one-shot to tie things together and bring us back to asks. (As in, the remainder of the powerverse asks in the hopper, not, uh. We’ll get back to headcanon asks soon, I promise! D: )

As always, if you’re just here for headcanon, please block/blacklist the powerverse tag! For those of you just joining in, powerverse is a slight AU that delves into massive self-indulgent territory in which Bill has accidentally given himself the ability to change back and forth between flygon and human. Enjoy!}

“So,” Lanette says. “Let’s talk.”

She says this after about ten minutes of eerie silence. As in, immediately after he proposed to talk, he just went ... dead silent. Lanette can feel his scales grow hot beneath her hands, and she’s worried. She can’t tell if he’s sick, getting exhausted from flying for so long, about to transform back, or something else, and given that half of those possibilities involve plunging them both into the ocean, she looks back at the beach with concern.

“Maybe we should land,” she says.

“No,” Bill replies. 

His voice is sharper than it’s been in a while—the kind of tone he only reserves at the Institute, when he’s arguing with higher-ups threatening to cut their funding. It’s not angry. It’s firm. Assertive. A “sit up and listen because I have something to say” kind of tone. Lanette has always been fascinated by that tone because Bill when he’s fully lucid and about to talk business is something that’s rare and a show to watch, but in that moment, when it’s used against her, it’s ... not.

And it’s not because now more than ever, Lanette knows that whatever is about to come after will be hard. She just can’t tell if it’ll be hard for her to hear or hard for him to articulate.

So she waits. And in that moment she gives him, Bill sighs, shakes his head, and carefully unwinds one of his arms to spread his claws across his forehead.

“It’ll be easier up here,” he tells her. “I'm away from Foxglove, and ... moving helps.”

With that, he twists and starts back into flying. Lanette looks over her shoulder and watches the beach recede, and the nagging feeling grows even more.

“Lanette,” he says, “you know I’m not going to hurt you, right?”

She turns back to him. “What? Of course not! I just ... Bill, you really should go back. Or at least head back to shore. What if you lose your wings out here?”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he says, casually. “I’m not about to change back. I can feel it. It’s stubborn this time.”

“What’s stubborn?”

Bill thinks for a moment, then banks in an arc and sails along, just above the water, parallel to the shore. “Lanette, what I’m about to tell you is going to sound crazy, but I assure you everything is under control.”

Lanette quirks an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

He bucks his head up just enough to let her see his smirk. “Bad choice of words. Anyway.” He straightens his neck again. “I don’t have to explain aura to you, but suffice to say, it’s not quite what we thought. Every type of energy is different, and it feels different to wield.”

“I-I know. You told me what it was like to wield Primrose’s fairy magic,” Lanette says.

Bill nods. “Dragon energy is different. It’s stronger and wilder than anything else I’ve wielded. It may be exacerbated by these other abilities, but either way, it’s ... why I can’t change back. When I change, I let part of that energy out, or—if I’m changing back into human form—pull it back in. I think this time I let too much of it out.”

“Because of me.”

“No.” Bill’s tone is firm again, but this time, there’s something reassuring about it this time. Persistent. “No, Lanette, this was a long time coming. Don’t blame yourself.”

“That’s...” Lanette sighs and leans down, wrapping her arms tightly around Bill’s shoulders. “You didn’t bring up how long I’ve been here for no apparent reason. It’s partly my fault.” She embraces him a little tighter. “Maybe I should go back to Hoenn, if it’s causing you this much trouble.”

Bill shoots forward suddenly, then slaps his tail against the water and bursts back into the air. He hovers there, staring at the beach and leaving Lanette startled and shaking against his back.

“Sorry,” he says. “But ... no. That won’t fix things.”

“Then ... what do you want me to do?” Lanette asks, her voice thin and quiet.

Bill glances back at her. “Nothing. No, I—”

He grips his head with both claws this time, and Lanette pulls herself closer and tighter to him.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. “Please. Just tell me. I want to help. Is this because of me? Do I need to go?”

“No,” Bill says. “Please.”

“Then—”

Lanette tries to adjust her grip, but she slips. Bill tips back, surprised by the sudden shift in weight, and then, just like that, she’s falling. The water slams into her back, and she sinks, and for a long time, all she can see is darkness and a hazy spot of light and then something large dropping into the water after.

....

She wakes up sputtering and coughing. She’s not sure how long she’s been out, but it’s dark now, save for a dancing light beside her. She’s cold and warm all at the same time, soaked to the bone, and resting against something hard. Lanette coughs up a lungful of water and takes another moment to catch her breath, and when she’s finally calm enough to see straight, she finds herself gazing into the hazy image of a fire. A set of hands gently push something onto her face, and the world finally resolves properly through a pair of glasses. Before she can react, the thing she’s resting on shifts, and suddenly, she sees not only Foxglove—presumably the pokémon who gave her her glasses—in front of her but also one of Bill’s wings stretching over her protectively.

“Lanette,” Bill says, “I am so, so sorry.”

She sits up and wraps her arms around herself. “Well ... you fished me out.”

Bill glances out to the ocean. There’s something about his face—something about it that looks more than a little embarrassed.

“What?” Lanette asks.

She feels a set of claws ease onto her forehead, and it takes her a second to notice that Foxglove is leaning in. And then, she her vision flashes, and she sees Bill, soaking wet, stumbling onto the beach with Lanette on his back. She sees him collapse, and her vision shifts as if she’s running to him, but he snaps his head up and growls—actually growls, bared teeth and all—until his face suddenly freezes with a look of horror. Then, he slumps onto his stomach, recoiling and shaking yet shielding Lanette’s body from the waves, as Foxglove leans down.

And then she’s back, under the night sky and sitting up beside both pokémon. She looks to Bill, who clears his throat and rubs the back of his head.

“Bill,” she says.

“I know what you’re about to say,” he says, his voice strained. “And I know I slipped. I promise you, I’m not getting worse.”

“Are you sure about that?!” she says. “Because what that looked like to me—”

“It’s the same thing I’ve been feeling for months!” Bill snaps back.

They fall silent, looking equally shocked at one another. Lanette tries to process this, tries to come up with an adequate response, tries to figure out what’s going on with him, but she’s too slow. Bill’s breathing visibly hitches, and he settles back down, head bowed.

“Lanette—” He stops, huffs, tries again. “I’ve been feeling this overwhelming need to protect you. I’d be lying if I said it’s new or only started after I gained these powers. I’ve always cared about you, and I’ve always wanted to keep you safe and happy. I think I tried to tell you that a few times in the past few years, but I’ve just been afraid of what admitting that would mean for us. But lately, it’s been shifting slightly, here and there, just like my body. I’m not sure if it’s because of my abilities or because of how long I’ve spent with you these past few months, but ... I don’t want you to go. I feel like I need to be with you.”

“Bill...” Lanette brought her knees to her chest. “I don’t need to be protected.”

He slapped his claws onto the wet sand and gave her a startled look. “I know! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that! I just—I can’t really help it if—”

She cuts him off. Not with words but but leaning down and kissing him on the forehead. It wasn’t a deep, romantic kiss. It was a quick one, chaste and meant to stop his slide into a verbal abyss. And it works. He stops, mouth open, eyes locked on hers. And she sits up and holds his muzzle in both of her hands and studies him curiously with a cock of her head.

“Huh,” she says. “I thought that would do it.”

“Do—what, change me back?”

Lanette shrugs and smiles and settles back into her seat against him. “It works in fairy tales.”

Bill snorts and laughs incredulously. “Lanette, this isn’t a fairy tale.”

“True. But ... do you still feel stuck?”

He hesitates, then sighs and rests his head beside her hip. “Don’t worry about it. I just need to relax. It’ll settle down once I do.”

“What will settle down?”

Bill’s eyes flutter shut. “The dragonfire. That’s what’s keeping me in this form. Part of me thinks you need to be protected, so the dragon in me is trying to help out. Hence why I’m having trouble convincing my body that I need to be human right now.” He opens an eye. “It’s an oversimplification. I just ... I don’t quite have the energy to explain it better. Just ... it’s all connected to my emotions, put it that way.”

“No. I get it.” She rests her head against his shoulder and drapes her arm across his neck. “It’s a little cute, if you don’t mind me saying.”

He opens both eyes halfway and smirks at her again.

“Do you want to know a secret?” she asks.

“Hm?”

One of her hands absentmindedly strokes his crest. “When I say I’ve stayed here for the past several months because I was worried about you, what I meant to say is I feel the same way you do. I just can’t really turn into a dragon to show you that.”

“I know,” Bill mumbles into the sand. “I figured it out in February.”

“Will that help you stop being afraid of what it means for us, knowing I feel the same way?” Lanette asks.

“No,” he admits.

“You know ... this doesn’t really change what we are to each other. You get that, right?”

“I do.” He curls his entire body around her, like a cat curling up in its owner’s lap. “I just can’t explain it.”

Lanette sighs, then turns over, stretches out her legs, and stares at the stars. “It’s so weird to hear you admit you can’t explain something.”

Bill snorts, then apologizes and says nothing more. Instead, he rests his claws on her hand, and for the rest of the night, he, Lanette, and Foxglove watch the stars.

#askless #powerverse #long post