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#he already reads books about topics that interest her but now he gifts them to her or talks about those topics
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Hytham headcanons
Hytham (AC Valhalla) x GN!reader
Word count: 1078
A/N's note: I've been meaning to write about Hytham these past few weeks! Have some headcanons while I finish reading The Golden City :) (it got a bit angsty at the end)
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Hytham’s love languages are gift giving and quality time. Hear me out.
He's pretty quiet (compared to the rowdy Vikings, at least), but true to his creed, he watches everything and everyone like a hawk. This applies to you too.
Hytham is willing to wait when he starts to grow interested in someone. He’d much rather approach them only once he feels like he’s gotten to know them both from the inside and the outside. I don’t see him seeking his crush out from the very beginning – he prefers bonding with them over time and seeing where things go.
Do not be fooled by his acting. Whether he’s cackling at a joke, dining at the longhouse or target practicing, Hytham is sure to be eavesdropping on your conversation. If you’re nearby, that is. This doesn’t mean that he’s spying on you specifically – he tends to strain his ears (like all Hidden Ones do, really), and sometimes, if he’s lucky, he might just hear your voice.
When he does, he smiles to himself.
You’re good friends with Eivor, and often accompany her on her errands around the village. This has led you to the bureau multiple times, and Hytham is always caught off guard by the unexpected visit.
“🧍🏾‍♂️Oh. Good evening.”
You like the place, it’s cozy and the man isn’t bad company either. So you stay, and even if there’s other parchments he needs to finish before sunset, Hytham perks up at the chance to answer any question you might have (grinning and kicking his feet when you show interest in the creed).
So that’s where you spend time together. Celebrations in Ravensthorpe are also guaranteed to lure him out of his cove – you’ll be sure to find him letting loose and coming out of his shell more. His favorite game is apple bobbing, and he’s determined to win everytime – but despite his competitive streak, he might pretend to lose if he’s going up against you.
As for gift giving, it doesn’t evolve into actual physical gifts until later on (he thinks that’d be way too obvious). Instead, his first ‘gifts’ are things you might need.
Whether you have experience in fighting/self-defense or not, Hytham hints at the training yard he and Basim use. He invites you to use it whenever you please (you can pummel the dummies for a bit, as long as you put them back in their place); and if you have no experience whatsoever, he’ll gladly teach you some things.
You don’t get to have your own hidden blade though. Sorry (ask Basim for one)
But you can try his! Just don’t die.
If you do somehow get injured, you can have the medicine he’s made. It’s all yours.
Interested in a particular topic? He probably has a book about it at the bureau (or he’ll find it somehow, don’t ask) and will gladly let you take it.
Teaches you how to do the leap of faith. If you pull his leg just like Eivor did and don’t leave the haystack, I think he’d have a similar reaction.
“Very funny. You can come out now.”
“We are so not doing this rn.”
“Please.”
“Please, Basim will kill me.”
Things start to shift when you see the signs. You crack a joke with your friends and notice Hytham’s already looking at you with a soft smile. You tell him your pouch is broken, and remember the beautiful purse you’d once seen at a market in Lunden. Days later, coincidentally, Eivor brings you a beautiful leather pouch from the same city (hint: it wasn’t Eivor’s idea). You also find him playing hide and seek with the Norse children outside, and he urges you to join.
You start testing out your theories. When spring comes, you comment on the beauty of the blooming flowers and he’s immediately crouched down, going through every plant in your vicinity to tell you everything he knows about them. By the end, you have a large bouquet of flowers in your hands.
Eivor sees this, and jokingly tells Hytham he should get some purple ones and smack you in the face with them (a courting tradition amongst Vikings). Needless to say he’s mortified.
Random secret: he knows how to make flower crowns – his mother taught him when he was younger.
He’s giving you instructions as you weave the stems together, and you can’t help but feel his eyes glancing repeatedly between your hands and face.
It’s not until Ravensthorpe is attacked that you’re forced to face your feelings. The ambush is bad – there is no escape as the docks are on fire, and arrows are whizzing past you no matter where you run. Whether you’re a villager, a sage, or a warrior doesn’t really matter. It’s the kind of attack where you’re certain your next stop is going to be Valhalla.
But then the clashing of swords stop. The last enemy falls to their knees, and through the smoke and the ringing in your ears, you hear the roaring victory of your people.
Sigurd and Basim are looting the bodies. Eivor is opening the longhouse where the villagers have barricaded themselves. But you don’t catch sight of Hytham, not until you see him emerge from the woods along with the other Drengr. His white robes are flapping in the wind, his sword dripping with blood, and he’s holding his side as he grimaces. So you run to him.
He sheathes his weapon when he sees you alive and well, eyes darting all over your face as if scanning for injuries; and before you can say anything, he cups your face and locks his lips with yours.
Congrats! You’re now dating.
Basim tells you and Eivor something enigmatic months before his sudden betrayal. Hytham’s happiness is clearly reason for his gratitude, and no matter how much you insist that Ravensthrope is Basim’s home too, you’re only rewarded with a wry smile from the assassin.
It’s months later, when you’re sitting in the empty bureau with Hytham, that you reason Basim must have known. You watch as Hytham grips the table and rakes his hands through his hair, how he paces the room when he’s not squeezing your hand. He questions everything when you realize Basim must have known all this time – must have known that he wasn’t going to stay, that his apprentice would be alright. That Hytham would be happy in Ravensthorpe. And thus, you make sure it stays that way.
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womanexile · 1 year
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Speaking of celebrity culture & the literary buzz lately on twitter… youtu.be/hnP0DnCfuNU m.youtube.com/watch?v=oQsHyLRBUzo - some of these are TS selections. Hmm, now that I think of it, that literary reaction video made me wonder if the mysterious non fiction memoir rumored on twitter yesterday could be about Marjorie. That’s be cool, especially since that time period has drawn compelling comparisons to today and its ripples effect- 50s,60s,70s- like Elvis & Marilyn biopics. Her grandparents had to leave Cuba during that time. Jack Antonoff is a Kennedy collector - he wore vintage pin at Grammys. Marjorie song mentions of wishing she kept receipts & was left closet of backlogged dreams. She has a lot of resources -people & access- it is like a puzzle or whodunit- Agatha Christie (Angela Landsbury tales as old as time- weird how it is like an homage- she passed away around release). She likes that type of stuff, CSI, L&O:SVU, Criminal minds, Oz, etc- Shondra Rimes has definitely been an influence. Lol, Olivia H show was spotted in NY recently & was at concert last night. For example- the politics & celebrity culture (Kennedy & Cuba crisis in that era made me think of the Windsor royal family). The Crown or even celebrity involvement with the Ukraine/Russia war. Coincidentally TS ex secretly fought in it- news came out around TS latest album. The sections & stories on evermore & folklore reminded me of TS library (books, TV, film & music) tastes. Like the Taylor & Burton equivalevent of cancel culture. She has always been fascinated & influenced by history, visited museums & sites, picked up vintage items & exposed herself to various cultures. Lol, on the other hand- I think HS could do this too- or maybe they do already. It’s a creative way to work, express themselves but maintain privacy. Revealing their sources without exposing their life fully, yet educate others- relatable & applicable life lessons. Exploitation of kids for sport (Hunger games & Squid games)- reality TV, K-pop, Disney & nickelodeon- topics- cancel culture. History repeats in a way- we don’t always learn from the past… ‘ghosts.’ It’s true that internet like social media has spread things faster & influenced decisions that impact society. In their own way celebrities like HS/1D & TS for example, have utilized their influence and popularity to make their mark on today’s culture. Innovators & trendsetters- they tap into the pulse of society’s interests. They have a special gift/knack/skill to utilize today’s tools to draw ideas from past & present to spin/twist with words/puns/idioms that help their projects go viral globally and influence the future. They are as SM posts have revealed- Scrabble players/ game players. Turnabout fairplay. It is something that those before them were unable to take advantage of- and well, why not? Lol.
Sorry for the scramble of random thoughs- my page refreshes & autocorrects, ugh. Lol. Jotting it down before I lose it like other posts.
I think this memoir is mostly gonna be about Taylor but I’m sure she’s gonna talk all about her grandmother. This book is going to be 544 pages long. It’s gonna have a lot in it. I’m really excited for it.
TS & HS are so well read. Harry is such a poet & Taylor such a storyteller. If they ever worked on something together it would have the power to change the world.
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haoreo · 2 years
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✿ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 | 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭
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♡ content: sunghoon x fem!reader, fluff, angst if you squint, ft. somi (soloist) <3
♡ disclaimer: this has like one swear word lol. it deals with a lil bit of insecurity, maybe like a sentence or two. i mean no harm to any of the members, this is purely a work of fiction.
♡ word count: 1.6k+
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sunghoon was about to lose his mind at this point.
he was doing all the right steps, playing all the right cards, yet it seemed that all of it just flew right over your head. and today was a perfect example.
sunghoon woke up feeling confident that today would be the day where you would finally show that you liked him back. how could you not when he had the perfect plan and the perfect gift up his sleeve. now, sunghoon wasn’t a reader, he couldn’t even finish his assigned readings for his classes. so reading for pleasure was never part of his future plans. not until he found out what your favorite romance book was, of course.
he rushed to your local bookstore and bought a copy of your favorite book. his plan was to annotate it while reading, making sure to tab and highlight all the cute moments between the book’s main character and their love interest, trying his best to portray his feelings to you.
he thought that this would be the cherry on top, because nothing can be more romantic than a guy annotating your favorite book, right?
sunghoon was proved wrong when all you had said was thank you.
not a hug, not a kiss on the cheek, not an ‘oh my this was the sweetest thing anybody has done for me, let’s get married.’ you just offered a simple thank you, before turning around to head to your first class of the day.
you were officially driving park sunghoon crazy.
but you were doing it on purpose, of course.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
boys' minds are simple really, and this was proven by all of the boys that have shown interest in you in the past. they would say sweet words, offer you small trinkets, and then proceed to wait for you to take a hint. you, however, would always wait on those three words. i like you.
making them suffer wasn’t really part of the plan, you simply didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in case you misinterpreted their intentions, no matter how obvious they may be. and besides, that was the bare minimum, right?
but you were presented with disappointment after disappointment when boys would give up simply because you couldn’t “take a hint.”
it was a mystery to the whole school on why you act like this, knowing that any girl would do anything to be in your position. you had even “rejected” the choi yeonjun last school year, which became the hot topic for the whole student body the rest of the year.
your best friend, somi, always understood where you were coming from, but she was getting a little bit concerned at this point. not to mention that she really liked sunghoon for you, thinking that he understood your needs the most. well, if only he would say those three words.
you were both at your usual booth at the café you would often visit for some after-school studying when suddenly somi asked,
“what if you never get married one day?”
you look up from your textbook to raise an eyebrow at her, “and why would you think that?”
she fixed her posture, suddenly looking serious “i know that you deserve only the best from your potential partner, but don’t you already like sunghoon back?”
you almost jumped out of your seat in an attempt to shush your best friend, “hey! i know you like proving your point but can you keep it down? this whole café is filled with our schoolmates!” you whisper-shouted before looking around to see if anybody overheard your conversation.
somi rolled her eyes, saying “but i am right! so why don’t you just help the poor boy and maybe confess first?”
you shrugged your shoulders, choosing to stare at your study material instead of your best friend in front of you. “i just want to make sure, you know? if they can’t even communicate their feelings to me now, how can i expect the same in the future?”
somi knew you were right, you almost always were, but she was really counting on sunghoon to do this properly, or else you really wouldn’t have a chance at getting married in the future.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
“girls are so confusing,” sunghoon groaned as he plopped onto his bed, burying his face into a pillow. jake, his roommate, could only laugh at his friend’s predicament.
“maybe you’re not thinking hard enough, hoon,” to which sunghoon lifted his head up to stare at jake who was seated at his desk. “what do you mean i'm not thinking hard enough? i try to read the books she likes, listen to her favorite music, heck i've even memorized the members of her favorite band,” sunghoon complained.
jake paused before saying, “come to think of it, have you ever actually told her that you liked her?”
“well…” sunghoon frowned, “no?”
jake laughed which left sunghoon confused. “and you wonder why she hasn’t reciprocated?”
sunghoon opened his mouth, ready to defend himself, but he did give some thought on what jake had told him. indeed, he has never explicitly said those words to you, rather he tried to deliver his thoughts and feelings through the gifts that he would give you and the little acts of service he would offer to you.
sunghoon spoke up after a while, “but i thought that actions speak louder than words?”
jake stood up to sit on the edge of sunghoon’s bed,
“yes, actions may speak louder than words. but actions without words are confusing.”
jake stood to leave their dorm room, leaving sunghoon alone with his thoughts.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
you were on your way to the café on campus to get some studying done when you heard someone call after you. you turned around to see sunghoon jogging over to you with his hands in his pockets.
“hi, hoonie. what's up?” sunghoon felt his face warm at the nickname.
“i was wondering if i could join you today at the café? we could study together, if that’s alright with you of course,” sunghoon said, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “sure! i can text somi if she wants to come-,“
“i was thinking that it could just be the two of us?”
it was your turn for your face to warm at his words, thinking that maybe this finally was the time where he’d say the words you’ve been waiting for him to say.
but sunghoon took your short silence as hesitation, to which he quickly tried to save himself and made up an excuse, “um, because i need help with an upcoming exam and it’d be embarrassing for another person to watch me struggle.” sunghoon tried to laugh it off.
you smiled at him, trying to play it cool.
but you couldn’t ignore your heart, heavy with disappointment.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
these days, life have been full of silence as a result from the absence of sunghoon, who seems to be avoiding you ever since that night at the café. you both had tried your best to not make it awkward, but you both couldn’t ignore the tension between the two of you that night. and now you were alone at the exact same spot, thinking of where things went wrong.
you would have never admitted it, but you too, were rooting for sunghoon to be the first to say those three words. you tried to not let it get to you, of course, but you couldn’t help but think that maybe you would never be able to hear those words from someone. because no matter how much you hoped, you were let down, time after time.
shaking your head, you reminded yourself that you were here to study for finals week and not to dramatize your non-existent love life.
despite trying your hardest to focus on your study material, your mind kept on drifting to sunghoon, and all of the what ifs that came along with him. tired and frustrated, you decided to pack up your things and have an early night.
you were honestly afraid to be left alone with your thoughts on the walk back to your dorm room.
but nothing would have prepared you to be face-to-face with the man that took up space in every little crevice of your mind.
naturally, the only response you could come up with was to walk past him as subtle and as quick as possible. that until,
“what does it take to have a place in your heart?”
confused, you muttered “w-what?”
“what does it take for me to be called yours?” sunghoon started to raise his voice.
you walked closer to him to try to calm him down, “hoon, you’re confusing me i-“
“i like you, damn it!”
starstruck at his words, you could only stare at him.
“fuck,” he said in a shaky voice, ”i like you so much that i would gather all of the stars in the sky if that’s what it takes to have the honor of calling you mine,” he stepped closer to you and took a hold of your hands in his, “i like you, and believe me when i say i would wait for you for a lifetime, but please,” his voice full of desperation, “I just need to know if i even have a chance.”
this time, you didn’t pause to think.
you tightened your hold on his hands and leaned in to kiss him on the lips.
to sunghoon, the kiss lasted for both a second and for a lifetime.
but when you pulled away to look at him, your eyes did the answering for you.
and nothing else seemed to matter.
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hope you liked this one bubs! i hope you're having or had a wonderful day :> my inbox is always open for any comments or suggestions and everything in between. stay safe everyone! <3
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be11atrixthestrange · 2 years
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The Quiet
Ron & Hugo's annual shopping trip turns into an understated moment of bonding. Written for @thedistantdusk for the 2021 HPRomione Discord Secret Santa Exchange! <3
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The Quiet
Entering Flourish and Blotts in the few weeks prior to Christmas always gives Ron a jolt of deja vu. The smell of ink and old parchment unleashes memories of cozy December evenings, Hermione reading by the fire, her feet shoved into woolen socks, and a mug of tea steaming from a nearby table. She could sit in silence for hours, lost in a book, listening to nothing but the crackling flames.
In the past, Ron always preferred to spend cold winter evenings on the Quidditch pitch to revel in the solitude — it was the only way he could appreciate the quiet. Growing up with six siblings meant silence was rare, and as a result, he couldn't help but talk when in the presence of others.
They passed these preferences onto their children. Rosie is a lot like him — she can't sit next to someone without talking to them, and she wouldn't be caught dead cozying up by a fire if there's an empty Quidditch pitch nearby. But Hugo? He's his mother's son, through and through. He developed the same flaming red hair, freckled face, and lanky frame as Ron, but has no idea how to hold a broomstick, let alone ride one.
Both Hermione and Rosie are working odd hours this holiday season, so the Annual Granger-Weasley Christmas Shopping Event has turned into a party of two. Ron is grateful for the extra time with Hugo, as it's been way too long since they've really talked. Luckily, the benefit of being both a dad and former Auror is that Ron's observation skills are top-notch, so they don't really need to talk. But it would be nice.
"So," says Ron, breaking the silence between them. "Who's on your Christmas list this year?"
Hugo's had the same core group of friends since year one — Chloe, Ruby, and Ethan — which renders the question unnecessary. Ron asks anyway.
"Same as last year," confirms Hugo.
Although his social circle has remained relatively unchanged, there have been minor shifts, but only in the way he speaks of his friends, not in the friends themselves. Ron and Hermione always notice these changes, remembering the fluidity of their own friendship over the years. It would be a lie to say they've never made assumptions about their son's relationships, always wondering if any bonds were strengthening into something more.
They observed closely when Hugo would invite Chloe and Ruby over for the holidays, watching with even more interest when it was just one of the girls. They took note of the gifts Hugo would purchase for them, listened to the way he'd talk about them, and looked for a sparkle in his eye when they reunited after summer holidays. As Hugo entered his teenage years, they expected something to happen.
It was a few factors — Hugo's uncontrolled blushing, the increased frequency of dinner invitations, and the extra time he spent on his letters — that they recognized as signs of a budding romance, but it wasn't with either of the girls.
Hugo had never confirmed anything, but neither Ron nor Hermione had ever asked. There's no point in doing so now — Hugo's a man of a few words, and it's just one of those things that parents already know.
Ron follows Hugo deeper into the store. Like his mother, he seems to know Flourish and Blotts like the back of his hand. He pauses at an aisle of fancy writing implements, leather bound journals, and inkwells. As usual, they've set a strict budget for each gift, so when Ron finds Hugo eyeing an expensive quill set he approaches the topic gently.
"Those are really nice," says Ron.
"Aren't they?"
Hugo examines the collection of five quills, each of a different color. There's room for a custom engraving, which is hopefully included in the price. It's a beautiful set — something he might purchase for Hermione.
"We can't get a set for all three of your friends," says Ron, pointing to the ten galleon price tag.
"I know."
"Then maybe we should look at a few other options," he suggests, with a twist of guilt in his stomach. Sure, they could afford a set for every friend — technically — but it's never too early to teach kids how to manage money. Ron had to learn that by necessity growing up, and now that they live more comfortably, he worries his kids will miss out on that important knowledge.
"I only want to buy one. I'll still have enough money left over for Chloe and Ruby's gifts," says Hugo as he continues to examine the quill set.
Ron tries to mask the smile tugging at his lips — he always hated his own father's knowing grin whenever Ron would mention Hermione. He would have loved to pretend his dad was ignorant of Ron's budding romantic feelings, but that simply wasn't the case. "So these are for Ethan, then?"
Hugo nods.
"Well, it's a very nice gift for a friend," says Ron, instantly regretting his suggestive tone when Hugo looks away.
"Well, we've been friends for six years," says Hugo with an air of defensiveness that reminds Ron of himself trying to explain purchasing a bottle of perfume for Hermione back in year five.
He can't help but wonder if Hugo's trying to lure a certain question. Ron would love for Hugo to simply tell him, but that's not his style. Unfortunately, there's no guidebook on fishing information you already know from your children.
Ron never had to communicate these things — somehow, his dad already seemed to know everything. If he had learned to verbalize it, he might have saved himself some heartache with Hermione. He was always a talker, but not necessarily an effective one.
"Six years, huh?" says Ron, trying to catch Hugo's eye. "You know, your mum and I were friends for seven."
The silence that follows is thick, but doesn't altogether take Ron by surprise. He waits, watching his son from the corner of his eye. The way the color spreads into Hugo's ears, causing them to blend in with his fiery hair, is so familiar. And when Hugo turns away from him, ever so slightly, Ron knows it's only to cover up a smile — the same one Ron would try to hide whenever his own father would subtly suggest he and Hermione were more than friends with an eyebrow raise or a wink.
Eventually, he stopped hiding it — there was no reason to mask his smile when he showed his father the sparkling engagement ring he'd purchased, or asked him to read over his wedding vows, or watched him tear up upon seeing Hermione's first pregnancy scans.
To Ron's delight, Hugo offers him even more than a smile. "Seven years?"
Ron nods. "Yeah. It took us a while to figure it all out."
"Well. Maybe you should have got her a really nice quill set," laughs Hugo before moving on to search for the remaining gifts, his shoulders bouncing with the weightlessness of having the first gift, the main one, already sorted.
It's not exactly a confirmation, but it's not a denial either. It's as though Hugo — very much his mother's son — is treading the line between the two with caution, daring Ron to ask. He never would have guessed that as a father, asking the right questions would turn out to be just as difficult as answering them.
"Have you told him how you feel?" he asks, unsure if the bold question would give him the information he's looking for.
"He already knows."
In typical Hugo fashion, his response is vague, but Ron doesn't push it. Hugo says it with confidence — enough to suggest the two boys have either talked about it, or they don't need to. Maybe Ethan is a man of a few words as well.
"Good," says Ron, before wrapping an arm around Hugo's shoulders and pulling him in. His son groans at the contact but hugs him back anyway.
In a perfect world, Hugo would share every single thought, unprompted. Yet, on the other hand, Ron is growing to appreciate the fact that he doesn't have to. For the first time in a while, the quiet between them no longer feels empty or awkward. Maybe it never was.
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imkylotrash · 3 years
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What Goes Around
Pairing: Hardin Scott x reader
Request: Could I please request an imagine/fic with Hardin Scott x Reader and basically Hardin of course has his bad boy reputation but this intrigues the reader. She is his complete opposite and finds his rudeness quite funny. Hardin is a little too mean to her one time and makes her cry. It doesn’t occur to Hardin that she likes him and by that point he feels like he has lost his chance to get to know her because of his.. ‘wicked’ charm? You can choose the ending. Anonymous
Tagging: @bitchwhytho​ @music-of-melody​​
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He’s watching you give your coffee order and it makes you smile. Everywhere you go, you seem to run into each other. At first, you’d just steal glances then go your separate ways but then it turned into “hello”. He made the first move and asked if you should have your coffee together one day. Ever since than you’d made polite conversation when you ran into each other and you had to admit that something intrigued you about the tattooed boy who refused to care about anyone other than himself. You couldn’t exactly relate to his perspective on life but you wanted to know more, to understand the boy who considered the world a cruel place rather than an opportunity to happy days. 
“This seat taken?” you ask standing with a hot cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. The “Red Queen” series have become something of an obsession for you after finishing the first book. You never thought you’d stray from the classics but lately, YA books had been catching your eye. 
“I see you’re still on the third book,” he smiles and in the same moment letting you know how he feels about YA books. You don’t take it too hard considering he’s not even willing to admit his love for books for anyone other than you. 
“I’m taking my time and enjoying the words.” You have a tendency to get too invested and rush through a book to get to the ending meaning you miss a lot of the little Easter eggs along the way. You’re trying to change that. 
“Hey, no judgement from me.” He’s lying but it’s a cute lie so you’ll allow it. Once you’ve finished your coffee, you stand up grabbing your things. You have exactly ten minutes before your class start but you like to get there early in case you need to do some last-minute preparations. Hardin remains seated and you remain neutral in regards to his lack of motivation when it comes to college. 
I’ll be going classes now. Want to come?” Okay, maybe not that neutral. He shakes his head smiling and you know what that means. It takes three days before you run into him again. This time at the library where you reach for the same book which sounds completely absurd and something that would only happen in one of your books. It’s a cute moment though. 
“I guess great minds think alike,” you say and he scoffs.
“Please. You wish you were as clever as me.” He offers you the book about to sit down when he spots some of his friends outside. You know he’s been a little vague about who you are considering just how different you are to them and frankly, you don’t mind. Hardin is an interesting character because there’s more to him than just the casual alcoholic teen while the people he surrounds himself with at those frat parties really don’t have much else going on for them. You went one time and you’d never been more bored in your life. 
“I should go,” he says Within minutes he’s out the door walking in the direction away from his “friends”. After that you don’t spot him for a while or maybe he’s avoiding you to avoid the questions his friends will inevitable have. Either way, you find yourself missing his sarcastic comments. You hadn’t realised just how much of an impression he’d made on you until he wasn’t around. But he comes back to you eventually. 
“Hey,” he says when he spots you at the coffee house. 
“I thought you’d moved city,” you tease pushing out the chair across from you with your foot. He sits down sliding a book across the table. 
“As an apology,” he grins. You turn the book over to see the cover and you can’t help but smile. 
“You remembered.” One of the first conversations between you and Hardin had been about ecocriticism and a book called “The Road” that you’d borrowed from the library more times than you could count. You’d discussed the topic in class where your professor had recommended this book and now Hardin had gotten it for you. 
“You wouldn’t shut up about the book for at least five hours. How could I not?” He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal but it still means a lot to you. Now you could read the book whenever you felt like it. And he’d gotten the original cover rather than the movie cover. It would’ve been the perfect gift if his friends hadn’t shown up and ruined everything. You see the change in him the second they enter the coffee house. 
“Hardin, who’s this?” Jace asks with hungry eyes making you feel incredibly uncomfortable. 
“Just a friend,” Hardin offers not wanting to give any information to these people. 
“Sure, friend. Do you feel the same way, honey?” Jace asks making the rest of the guys snicker. Before you have a chance to answer, Hardin opens his mouth and ruins everything. 
“Yes, friend. I mean look at her. Not exactly my type, is it? I mean, could it get anymore vanilla?” This earns him a high five from one of the guys but it cracks your heart. You’ve never thought much about your close or the way you looked because you thought the inside counted a hell of a lot more than the outside. But hearing that the idea of being with you seemed so ludicrous hurt more than you liked to admit. 
“I should get going.” You don’t look at Hardin when you leave and you don’t bring the book with you. If this is how he thinks of you then you don’t want anything from him. And it’s not even the fact that he considers you a friend. If that’s all it was, you’d be fine. It’s how easy it was for him to degrade you that really hurt. You tell yourself you won’t cry but it’s a lost battle as you head home. Unfortunately, you don’t reach home before he catches up to you.
“Leave me alone, Hardin,” you say picking up the pace. You’re determined to reach your apartment without stopping but of course, you can’t help yourself when it’s Hardin.
“Are you mad at me?” 
“Mad at you? Of course, I’m mad at you!” you yell not caring who hears you at this point.
“You of all people should realise what it’s like to be judged on the way you look. I like the way I look and I absolutely refuse to let you make me feel bad about it!” You don’t care if he said it because of his friends or not, it’s the fact that it came to him so easily. That means he’s thought it before regardless of the situation at the coffee house. 
“It was a joke!” he yells back opting for defensive rather than just apologise. You’re not doing this. You turn around and this time he doesn’t follow you. It’s weeks before you dare return to the coffee house. You don’t want to meet him again. Instead you dive head first into the universe of Jane Austen thinking he could’ve been your Mr. Darcy with his sour attitude and soft spot for you but it didn’t turn out that way. But your need for good coffee eventually win over your fear of seeing him again. The plan is in, order, pay and leave. It’s just not that simple once you’re inside. 
“You forgot this.” He places “The Road” in front of you as you’re waiting for your coffee. You can’t believe he’s held onto to it since that day. You figured he would’ve just chucked it in the bin. 
“I’m really sorry for what I said. It was rude and thoughtless. You deserve better.” It’s a good apology but you can’t help but think what the insult will be the next time his friends catch you together. 
“You’re right. I deserve better.” You get your coffee and head outside. 
“Throw me a bone here. I said I was sorry.” Of course, Hardin follows you outside refusing to let this go. 
“Hardin, you’re only sorry because I called you out on it. You don’t actually care that it hurt me.” He’s not the first guy who thought he could walk all over you and he won’t be the last but you refuse to accept that treatment. You deserve a lot better than that. 
“I’m sorry because it hurt you. I didn’t think you’d read so much into it,” he defends himself making it clear to you that it’s a pointless discussion. He’s not going to understand why what he said was hurtful despite his own appearance and the comments he’s received. 
“How could I not? I’m sitting there thinking we might have a shot and then you pull the rug out from under me. I’m not playing these games with you.” 
“What?” You don’t bother repeating yourself instead using this moment of shock to hurry away. You manage to avoid him for another week before he corners you on campus. 
“You can’t just throw something like that out in the world and then leave. It’s been going round and round in my head.” He has a hand on each side of you leaning against the wall. It’s effective for keeping you in place and distracting you from why you’re actually upset with him. 
“I never thought you’d like me like that. Shit, I would’ve done things very differently if I ever thought I had a chance.” This time you’re the one in shock. You didn’t think he’d put so much thought into what you said last time. 
“What would you have done differently?” Despite vowing to yourself that you’re done with Hardin, you find yourself curious once again. This bad boy persona with a loving man hidden inside seems like an impossible paradox.
“I would’ve kept you well clear of those idiots from the frat house. Bought you flowers maybe. Taken you to dinner. Bought you a hell of lot more books.” You don’t want to forgive him but it’s hard to think when he’s this close to you. 
“I can start now if you’d like.” He places a hand on your cheek and his touch gives you chills. You inhale sharply telling yourself not to give into him but your body has already thrown in the white towel. He leans down stopping inches from your lips. 
“I really am sorry. It won’t happen again.” Instead of answering, you lean up closing the gap between you. It’s the first kiss but definitely not the last. 
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moononastring · 3 years
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You brilliantly have given nsfw and uncle Eris headcanons... Now I present you with...
Helion as a grandfather headcanons! 🌞
Oh god. Oh god the cuteness. | Uncle Eris | So again, this is going off of that Elucien have twins ( boy and girl ) hehe.
Helion is already so so so extra. But with his grandbabies??? He's the worst. Like if y'all thought Eris spoiled them, Helion is on a whole other level.
On a sad note, he has so much to make up for because he missed out with Lucien that he really tries to be a part of every milestone of theirs (which Elucien are more than excited to share with him).
Gifts upon gifts upon gifts. Baby pegasus and togas are fOR SURE. Matching togas with grandpa are a must.
You will find Helion going to meetings with a baby strapped to his chest, no questions asked.
He offers to babysit ALL THE TIME. He and Eris really do buttheads over this but grandpa card stumps uncle card HAHA.
He likes to take his grandbabies on Grandpa and Me dates (Lucien is always allowed to tag along but Helion also has separate Dad and Me dates for him on the condition that Helion is NOT allowed to call it that in front of anyone. )
He takes them on library adventures to explore all the knowledge there. They choose different books together and Helion reads and explains any topics they are interested in.
He has his grandbabies play "messengers" to LOA (even when they're in the same room). So he'll write a sappy, silly note to flirt with her and use the grandbabies to send it who are just giggling the whole time. LOA rolls her eyes most of the time with a smile and sends one back.
Sleepovers are a must, especially when they're young.
As they get older, Helion is always enthusiastic about their interests and welcomes them to join him in any court events/meetings.
He plays wingman. A lot. They really really really hate it (they don't but man is he embarrassing about it). Also, can you imagine trying to date the High Lord of Day's grandchild? Helion tries to not make it a big deal but gives them that wide smile with a "if you fuck this up, you die" look.
He tries to give them the bird and the bees talk even though Elucien already have. Lucien immediately shuts that down "NO DAD THEY DON'T KNOW NEED TO KNOW ALL THAT JUST YET" Elain thinks it's hilarious.
I can see him getting small matching tattoos with his grandbabies. He's not just any grandpa, he's a cool grandpa.
That's all I have for now hehe! I hope you like <3
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luna-the-moth · 3 years
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Lucifer, Leviathan, and Satan with a Plant-Loving S/O (SFW)
I accidentally deleted the ask, but here’s what was requested: @hey-its-spades : Hello! For Levi, Lucifer, and Satan if you dont mind uwu . Mc has a knack for plants and has taken it upon themselves to put plants everywhere. ( hanging from ceilings,crawling ivy on outside walls,in the kitchen, library, even luci's study.) All the rooms look a liytle greener and None of them say anything but the student body is saying that it makes the old place look alive and home-y. It makes mc really happy.       
Oh I adore this ask! SFW, with a GN! reader. I’m assuming by student body you mean the HoL residents? Since almost nobody outside the household residents visit there. I got really carried away with Levi and the Lucifer angst as well-
My vampire poll for the OM characters
My ask box is open, but please read my rules and guidelines before requesting! Please send them in my ask box, as I can keep track of requests better.  Reblogs, likes, and comments are greatly appreciated!
Lucifer, Leviathan, and Satan with a Plant-Loving Reader (SFW)
Prologue/basics for all of them:
Ever since you came to the HoL, you decided that it was too....lifeless.
Sure, there were bright candles lighting the halls, but the house was devoid of any life, besides the brothers and Henry.
So you took it upon yourself to decorate, of course!
While many human world plants didn’t fare well in the Devildom due to the poor soil quality, Lord Diavolo had agreed to bring you enchanted soil, guaranteed to grow any plant.
Regardless of temperature or sunlight needs, whatever plant grew in that soil would flourish to its upmost potential.
Asmo had a great deal of amusement with you decorating, advising you on what colors would fit specific areas of the household, and what species of flowers would bring beautiful symbolism as well.
In the house’s entryway, you left a pair of Strelitzia nicolai (giant bird of paradise) plants, as they added a subtle flair.
With long, stemmed leaves, it contributed a touch of elegance and flair.
On the a few windowsills, you had placed Begonia rex-coltorum (Rex begonias), their dark, vivid, colors standing out.
You had planted crawling ivy on the outside walls, making the house seem more inviting.
Lucifer:
Lucifer hadn’t minded your redecoration, as it had matched well with the house’s aesthetic, adding to the beauty.
In fact, he had quite enjoyed seeing you pore over catalogues and books, deciding which one would fit the space best.
Over the next few weeks, he watched as the House of Lamentation became brighter, more colorful.
It was a nice change, he thought.
However, he was surprised when he had woken up in his study, rose bushes in the corners of his study.
Deep, red roses greeted him as he surveyed his study with a pleased smile.
It was no secret Lucifer adored roses, and he was appalled when he had first arrived in the Devildom, as the soil quality was so poor, it could hardly grow anything.
Which meant he couldn’t grow roses, one of his favorite flowers.
The fact that you had thought about him, and wanted to gift him such a beautiful display, greatly moved the stoic demon.
Making his way to one of the bushes, he took off his gloves and knelt down on one knee.
The soft, sweet fragrance immersed his senses, filling him with memories of laughter, smiles, serenity, and Lilith.
Roses were her favorite flower.
As the memories flooded his mind, Lucifer suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of longing, and his vision became blurred.
He remembered the way Lilith used to brighten up when helping him with his garden, an eager grin ever-present on her face.
The way she would make him a colorful bouquet of roses whenever Michael had given him more stressful tasks than usual.
He quickly wiped a stray tear that had fallen from one of his eyes, and calmed himself.
Taking one of the velvety flowers in his hand, Lucifer gently brought his lips to the flower head, leaving a soft kiss, almost as if it was Lilith’s forehead.
The next time you went over to his study for some tea, he brought you into his arms, bringing you close to him.
Kissing your cheek, he lets a small smile break through his usually-serious facade.
“Thank you for the roses, my love. They compliment my study’s aesthetic nicely.”
Placing a small kiss on your neck, he smirked.
“Perhaps I can thank you with a date tonight?”
Leviathan:
Levi actively enjoyed watching you redecorate the HoL.
It was like one of his favorite games, The Grims! (Yes that was a terrible pun for The Sims.)
He had listened with interest as you went off on the best plants that would fit his aesthetic, and would match well with water.
What caught his attention, was when you brought up the topic of bio luminescent plants.
Of course, they weren’t naturally grown in the human world, but scientists had recently found a way to genetically modify tobacco plants.
In doing so, they had spliced the genes with four fungus genes related to bio luminescence, then carefully cultivated them.
From a seedling to maturity, the plants presented a small glow, visible to the naked eye.
The gene modification had no harmful effects on the plants, and the only difference between the lab-modified plants and wild plants, were height.
The entire time you had explained the plant’s origins passionately, Levi sat in awe, watching as you had gestured your hands in an excited fashion.
So this is what you meant when you had said you enjoyed him being so passionate about an anime or game.
At first, Levi had thought you were merely exaggerating to cheer him up, but as he looks at you now, eyes shining with delight, he understood.
You decided that since you were decorating the HoL, you would decorate Levi’s room as well.
You didn’t have access to the bio-luminescent plants, but you decorated his rooms to the nines nonetheless.
So, you had pooled together your money and resources, to create a mini lily pond for him!
You had miraculously gotten him out of the house, for a cosplay con, in which you had ‘accidentally’ forgotten to buy yourself a ticket.
Which we all know is a lie, you had just not bought one for yourself in order to stay at home, assembling the pond with Solomon’s help.
It was small, enough to fit around 6-7 lily pads/lotuses.
You had carefully grown the lily pads in your room, watching as they eventually bloomed into light, almost ethereal flowers.
By the time Levi came home, you had just finished cleaning up, getting the mud washed from your hands and arms.
Upon seeing the lily pond, Levi’s eyes were wide with amazement and shock.
You created and did this, for him?
Absolutely sets down his handfuls of merch, (gently, mind you) and silently steps over to you.
He does his best to hug you like in anime, wanting you to know how much he appreciates this.
Yes, it may be awkward, but it warms your heart knowing that he stepped out of his comfort zone, just to thank you.
He’s too embarrassed to say it while looking at you, but you can hear his voice as he rests his head against yours.
As he pulls away, a blush is evident on his face, his head turned to the side as he awkwardly places his hand against the back of his neck.
“T-thank you, Y/n. It’s a b-beautiful lily pond.”
Satan:
He fully supported your botanical excursion
After all, he’s always had an affinity for plants.
Whether it be for potions, poisons, or mere decor, Satan had a green thumb, through and through.
If his room weren’t full of books, scriptures, and all sorts of literature, he’d fill it with various plants.
So when you had announced that you were going to re-decorate the HoL with various flora, he was buzzing with excitement.
He gathered every human botanical book he knew of, and started leaving them for you on your desk.
Within a week, you had stacks upon stacks of books, knowledge ready at your disposal.
And so you began to research.
Satan was considerate to leave footnotes in a few of them, like what type would pair well with what color schemes, etc.
You smiled while reading through them, seeing Satan’s elegant handwritten flow across the pages.
Within a few weeks, you had skimmed through the books, thoroughly reading a handful of them.
After ordering the plants you wanted on Azukon, (courtesy of Lord Diavolo’s credit card-) you were eagerly anticipating their arrival.
Especially because a few ‘special items’ were in the package.
After all, you wanted to thank Satan properly for his help.
When the various flora arrived, you had carefully cultivated each of them, encouraging their growth.
Satan had assisted you, monitoring their progress, and making sure none of his brothers ruined them.
The following weekend, Satan had a student council meeting planned, as did the rest of the brothers.
Which left you with the perfect opportunity to set up Satan’s gifts.
In his room, you had placed Senecio rowleyanus (string of pearls) plants, their bright green globes spilling over the bookshelves.
Along with that, were lavender candles, with dried lavender crushed inside.
After all, Satan had always (usually) been the most level-headed out of his brothers, despite his title.
He’s much more than the avatar of wrath, and has gone through painstaking time and trials to overcome that.
That’s why you had picked lavender, which without a doubt, would be noticed by Satan.
When he had come back from the meeting, he was already in a pissy mood, as things didn’t go as planned, ending in an argument between the brothers.
However, when he stepped into his room, seeing lavender candles lit, and garlands of plants over the bookshelves, he immediately broke out in a smile.
A real, genuine smile.
Seeing you sitting on his bed, lavender candles lit, plant garlands stringing down from the bookshelves, it was almost like one of the romance novels he had read...
Quickly, he scooped you up in his arms, spinning you until you were laughing for him to stop.
Finally setting you down to gently kabeddon you, he playfully kisses the corner of your lips.
“Thank you my love, these are absolutely beautiful. I shall preserve these for all eternity.”
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juniorgman187 · 3 years
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Be Forever Young (Reid Fluff Fic)
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Summary: After Penelope’s resignation from the BAU, she attempts to set up her tech protégé, Reader, with Reader’s intellectual match yet much older counterpart - Dr. Spencer Reid. 
A/N: The POV switches between Reader and Spencer, just use context clues to detect who the narrator is.  Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: 21 year age gap, headcannon proposal Playlist: Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny Word Count: 6.1k
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
Prologue
Events like these weren’t exceedingly rare. They weren’t anything like Halley’s Comet, by any means, where it only happens once in your lifetime - if you’re lucky. But they weren’t exactly sunrises - something that you can count on occurring every day without fail. 
The best celestial phenomenon I could compare it to are blue moons. Rare enough to still have an element of surprise when they came, but not so rare that I should never expect them. 
These ‘blue moons’ are actually the events in which I meet an intellectual match. 
It’s not too often that I find a mind quite like mine, so you’ll forgive me for the reaction it elicits to watch them transcend the physical level and connect with me on the psychological one. There’s only been a handful of people who’ve ever had the exact standard of aptitude to be permissible into this metaphysical world with me, but now - there’s a handful and one. 
The newest addition to the list is her. 
_ _ _
Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia is nearly impossible. Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia about Dr. Spencer Reid is impossible. 
I couldn’t tell you when the first time she brought him up was, but I could probably tell you just how many times since then she’s mentioned him. 
A trillion. At least. 
For months on end, he was the only thing she would talk to me about. Morning, noon, and night. Every single day she’d gush about him with the same unrelenting zeal as she had the day before and the day before that. It was both scary and impressive how she never seemed to run out of good things to say about him. 
“You would just die for his apartment. It’s got this super chic dark academia thingy going on. You’d be really into that,” she would say. Or something to that effect. I was never really listening. 
Not that I wasn’t interested in learning about Dr. Reid - I was very interested in him.
As a superior. 
I first learned of him when he taught my Psych 101 class. Freshman year me was simply enthralled with him as a speaker, probably due to the charm of his awkward humor. I found it eerily relatable and touching, in a way. That was probably my favorite class, minus the assholes who made it less than enjoyable at times. (That’s a story for later).
The next interaction I had with him happened not even a year later when he came back after temporarily teaching to sit in on a philosophy class. Even though he was only auditing the lecture, whereas I was enrolled in the course, he ended up sitting in the seat right beside me. Had he not been gifted with an eidetic memory - a fact I found out during one of my obsessive research sessions - I doubt he would’ve even remembered sitting next to me.
Our shared field of work helped to bring us back together repeatedly throughout college. I would run into him at seminars, workshops, once even at a library where we were both looking for the same book. 
But for the most part, our relationship was parasocial. It largely consisted of me learning from him at a distance. I would use his brilliant research to support my own assignments, read the books he recommended, audit the classes he would teach. 
Rather than accurately interpreting my very limited, very professional connection to Dr. Reid, Penelope was deliberately using it as ammunition for her arsenal of reasons why I should consider dating him. 
“You guys are basically already friends, and nothing is cuter than the friends-to-lovers trope!” Now that she actually did say, and the only reason I remember it verbatim was it was so outrageous I couldn’t not remember it. 
And probably because she just said it to me right now. 
“We’re not friends! We’re ... acquaintances. Colleagues, if you will.” My attempts to gain distance from Penelope and this topic of conversation were crashing and burning. The more I tried to walk away from her, the faster she would chase me. It was inconceivable how she managed to do that and continue to pelt me with her perky persistence. 
“Even better! You know I’m no stranger to workplace romances.”
That I did. One Derek Morgan or one Luke Alvez ring a bell?
“Dr. Reid and I don’t work together,” I reminded her, if only to burst her bubble of insanity. 
“Exactly my point! If you two don’t work together, then there’s nothing keeping you apart.” 
I was stopped dead in my tracks, almost causing Penelope to trip since she was right on my heels. 
“Nothing? Really? Try 21 years.” 
That surely kept us apart. 
Our age gap was one of those glaring disparities Penelope couldn’t wave away with her magic wand. Frankly, it wasn’t an age gap so much as it was an age Grand Canyon. He was a whole person of legal drinking age older than me!
Hell - our age gap itself was older than me!
Maybe there weren’t any contracts or agreements or supervisors to keep us apart, but there was still one significant thing doing that. 
Time. Arguably the most important thing you needed to get right for a relationship to work. 
If there were any chance that he and I were good together, that was squandered by our divergence in age. 
Right person, wrong time ... but wrong time by more than two decades.
I could see the smallest fragment of hope wither away in Garcia’s eyes, and it actually hurt to have known that I caused that. Her voice was more solemn when she said, “You don’t have to date him, I just want you to go on a date. Get to know each other better. Who knows? You might finally graduate from colleagues to BFF’s.” 
Not that I was seriously considering the possibility of growing closer to Dr. Reid, but there was one question lingering in my mind.
“Does he even want to go on this date? Have you asked him how he feels about it?” 
Part of why I was wondering was on the off chance that she’d tell me he had the same objections towards this that I did, which would be good news for me since it would mark my reluctance as a sound judgment. If there was anyone whose opinion was worth something, it was his, right? After all, he was the provable genius in the same compromising position as me. 
“Trust me, he’s been dying to do this.” In spite of her preface to trust her, I didn’t. I couldn’t be sure if she was suggesting that he’d been dying to go on a date with me or if he’d been dying to go on a date in general.
No offense to him, but I guessed it was the latter, and if that was the case, he was only being a team player because she hadn’t told him it was me she was setting him up with. Already suspecting that I’d probe further to navigate through her vagueness, she cut in with one last Hail Mary. “One date! That’s all!”
Whether you believe me or not, 100% the only reason why I said what I said next was to put an end to this madness. “Fine. I’ll go.”
Maybe 99.99%.
_ _ _
I never knew how I could lose so much time. Sure, if anyone asked, I could probably account for everything I’d done in my day, second by second. But still, there was this cloudiness, a fog, inhabiting my brain, casting this haze on whatever else dwelled in my mind, too. 
I couldn’t focus on anything for more than 4 seconds at a time, and while that wasn’t incredibly concerning for the average human, it was disconcerting for me. 
What was going on? 
What is going on?
“What’s going on?” 
Suddenly, a hand began to wave in front of my face. “Yoo-hoo? Anybody in there?” JJ wondered aloud, causing me to realize it was her voice that asked the question from before. 
“Yeah, sorry,” I shook my head to regain some clarity, but that did me no good. My foggy brain still remained. It goes without saying my words were worth nothing as well. JJ saw right through me in a way that never failed to scare me shitless. I could never conjure up a lie good enough to follow that look she’d give me. So I settled for the truth. The question that cast the haziness in my brain to begin with. 
“What do you think about me dating again?” 
If I thought that first look was bad, then the one she was giving me now was something of a nightmare. At least with the first, I knew what she was thinking. With this one, I hadn’t a clue. 
To relieve us from some of the insufferable silence, I found myself speaking again in my defense. “Garcia mentioned something earlier about setting me up with someone and it got me thinking.”
Thinking about Max that is. 
Being my most recent girlfriend, it made sense why she was freshest in my mind. That being said, we’ve been broken up for 14 months, which in any other context would seem like more than enough time to start dating again, but therein lies the catch. 
We didn’t just break up. She said “no” when I asked her to marry me, which, if you ask me, is one hell of a way to break up.
So from that perspective, it obviously begs the question: is 14 months too fast to move on from something like that? 
JJ sharply inhaled. “Well, are you ready to start dating again?”
I still didn’t have an answer for that myself. “I don’t know. There isn’t exactly a rulebook on how long you have to wait until it’s socially acceptable-”
“Lemme stop you right there, Spence,” She placed her hand on top of mine. “You can’t just do whatever statistics or studies or science say is right all the time. You not only need to be more in tune with your own needs but accepting of them, too. Screw what anyone else has to say about you dating again - including Socrates, including Einstein, including Aristotle ... including me. Do whatever you think is acceptable by your standards - not society’s. Do what you wanna do and I’ll support that.”
There was something special about having JJ’s approval. It was like getting permission to be excited, something I didn’t know I needed or wanted. 
“I’m ready.”
Born ready, as Penelope herself would say.
_ _ _
I was starting to get suspicious that maybe I had an invisible string attached to me and on the other end of that string was Penelope. It was the only explanation as to how she managed to trail behind me at an isochronal pace. Perfectly equidistant, perfectly equal intervals of time. Must’ve been some form of magic that she was able to synchronize that connection for as long as she did as we pranced around the office, basically chasing me.
“Okay, I know the date isn’t until Saturday, but I really think we need to amp up your wardrobe choices ... like stat.”
Hearing that I was seeing my superior still didn’t settle well with me. I don’t think I could ever get used to the thought. 
I should’ve been offended at her suggestion to change my clothing taste as it implied my stylistic choices weren’t up to par, but a part of me, a very small part of me, knew she was right. And just because I wasn’t keen on the idea of going on a date with Spencer didn’t mean I didn’t want to look nice for him for it.
“I’m assuming you’ve got some ideas in mind,” I said in a teasing voice, knowing that’s precisely why she brought it up.
“See! You are a genius! Exactly why you and Spencer are meant to be together!” Her exclamation was just as loud as it was outlandish. 
“Alright, calm down sparky,” I shot a warning look. “It’s just one date - we’re not soulmates.” 
Then, talking in the quietest voice I didn’t think Penelope was capable of speaking with, she said, “Not yet.” 
I knew the minute I showed even the littlest bit of interest in Penelope’s fashion guidance, I’d end up draped in ruffles, sequins, glitter, tulle, rhinestones, or all of the above. Nothing again Penelope’s personal style - it’s just not mine. 
I was scared to ask, but I had to know. “So what were you thinking?” 
Before my very eyes, Penelope’s constantly-there smile transformed, something akin to the mischievous grin of the Cheshire Cat. “I was thinking …” 
In a Mary Poppins-esque fashion, Penelope produced a dress that in no feasible reality should have been able to fit within that little Hello Kitty side bag. 
I suppose it must’ve been absolutely backbreaking for Penelope to refrain from choosing a multicolor or at least pattern-riddled dress, so as compensation for the fact that it was only one singular color throughout, it had to be a bold one. 
Red. 
“Not too shabby, right?” Her eyebrows jumped on her forehead, knowing she’d made a good choice. 
And a part of me actually died saying this, but it was pretty perfect. 
_ _ _ 
My life didn’t flash before my eyes, per se, the moment I finally arrived at the delicatessen. It was more like a very specific, singular memory had flashed before my eyes. 
That story for later? This is the one. 
Psych 101 was my best class in Freshman year ... by a long shot. Come rain, wind, or snow, I was always excited to go. It was a standout course on its own, but not because it was terribly spectacular or the most fascinating subject in the world, but more so because of how it changed my own person. It challenged me, like all worthwhile things do. 
There were more judgmental meatheads - boys, if you will - than not, who would jump down my throat for being a smart ass or a teacher’s pet if I so much as answered one of Dr. Reid’s questions. Par for the course, really. 
As a result, I had a proclivity to avoid raising my hand. It wasn’t that I was hyper-fixated on managing my reputation, just that participating wasn’t worth the eventual harassment from my dimwitted classmates. 
Nonetheless, one day, I felt compelled to answer Dr. Reid when he asked what our thoughts were about the sampled, pretense manifesto.
No one else was jumping at the chance to speak, perhaps they were just as cowardly as I was, and it was clear that he was going to stand there waiting until someone finally would. The silence was painfully awkward for everyone and so I felt obligated, as a student who was actually enrolled in the class for credit and not just to audit like 90% of the other girls here, to break it.
Slowly, ever so slowly, my hand hesitantly inched up into the air until it floated just high enough above the student in front of me’s head. As soon as I knew he saw it, I let it plunge straight back down. 
“Yes, Ms. (y/l/n)?”
I could already feel the dirty looks and snide comments coming before I even said a word. 
“I know we’re all collectively referring to this unsub as a man, and while that might just be a general assumption or Freudian slip perhaps ... I think the language is steeped in betrayal and contempt. And it would be ignorant not to notice how it reads more like the wrath of a woman scorned than your typical jilted male lover.” 
“Lover?” Someone two rows back snickered quietly, clearly to mock my choice of words. I didn’t even have to look to know it was Brad who had said that. Nevertheless, Dr. Reid was impressed with my answer. His lips curved into the faintest smile as he nodded his head. If he had heard the commentary of one Brad Sterling, he made no visceral reaction to it.
With an extended hand, palm facing up, he gestured for me to, “Please. Stand up.”
I fumbled my way up and out of my seat to possibly delay the shit I’d get for this mere action.
“That, ladies and gentleman, is what it looks like to have courage,” He underlined his words with a grand flourish of his hand in my direction. “Putting yourself on the line even in the event you’ll be mocked and ridiculed or deemed wrong. That’s something you’ll need if you are seriously considering being part of the BAU, or the FBI at any capacity.”
My face was flushed from the acclaim he was showering me with. Suddenly, I was glad I volunteered. 
Taking me completely by surprise, Dr. Reid wasn’t done yet.
“So, Mr. Sterling,” He began, directly calling out the boy in the back who without a doubt made the remark. I wouldn’t have had any reason to believe he heard it since his attention never diverted away from me long enough to catch the comment, much less the culprit. I wonder if he’d heard all the times Brad made jokes at my expense. Was he finally at his wits end with the sarcasm? “Make fun all you want, but might I suggest that if you like a girl, you do the opposite of that.” 
His sickly sweet drawl was followed by a short wink at me as if to say ‘I have your back’, and I was lucky to have already been in the process of sitting back down because my knees would’ve given out underneath me from the sheer exhilaration of his praise. 
The thought never once crossed my mind that Brad was so fixated on me because he had a crush, but it all made sense once it did. And if I didn’t know any better, Dr. Reid only humiliated him and brought it up because the realization dawned on him, too.
Was it possible that Dr. Reid was ... jealous?
In the spirit of complete transparency, that suspicion may have lit the tiniest wildfire imaginable in my chest. A wildfire that, even now, has yet to extinguish. Perhaps that little flame is the 0.01% of the reason I said yes. I could only imagine what kind of omnipotence it would soon gain if this date went well. 
If he could light such an enduring kindle with simple praise, think about what would happen if he smiled at me. If he laughed at my jokes. If he held my hand. 
If he kissed me.  
Dr. Reid’s validation would be something I actively sought from all walks of life, I knew that much. What I didn’t know was how far that desire would take me.
I would have never guessed it would lead me here. 
Standing in front of a fancy restaurant in a pretty red dress with the tenuous hope that the professor inside might just like it so much that he’ll end up liking the girl wearing it, too.
_ _ _ 
No matter how many times I adjusted the bouquet of poppies, they sat perpetually crooked on the table. Much like the dark gray tie around my neck that tightened around my throat with every passing second. I had to keep messing with it to loosen the noose-like grip it had on me. Who knew if it actually was becoming more restricting or it was the flourishing bundle of nerves in my stomach that made it harder to breathe. 
I was never very good at lying in wait patiently. Especially if I was expecting something. Now that I was expecting someone? I could say with perfect clarity - I was not good at waiting. 
I don’t wanna seem the way I do 
Every time the door opened, my eyes flashed to it instantaneously. And every time it wasn’t her, a little part of me was disappointed. It was still too early to say for certain that she was standing me up, but my mind was doing what it did best. It wandered. There was nothing else to do after all. 
Except maybe adjust those blood orange poppies one more time.
I’d picked them out specifically because Penelope slipped in a not-so-subtle comment about her dress being “a perfect match to the color of papaverales” - her words exactly. I thought if she went through that much trouble to find a color coordinated plant and say the scientific name for me to decode, it was worth picking up a bouquet of them on the way. 
It was only the most ironic occurrence in the world that when I went to rearrange them one last time, I devoted my full attention to the action, missing the very moment I was on the lookout for the past hour and a half. 
I didn’t even see her until the red poppies camouflaged into the identically colored setting of her dress. 
Then there she was.
All the disappointment in the world was worth that first time I saw her with fresh eyes. 
I was dumbstruck for a moment, long enough that it warranted an apology for not standing up sooner. 
“(Y/n)! Hi!” I accidentally squealed. I couldn’t control myself, let alone control the pitch of my voice apparently. 
I could see, in her, youthful naivete where, in others, I saw their age. She paradoxically had not aged a minute, and yet a new womanhood was piercing through her ultimately adolescent appearance. 
“Hi, Dr. Reid,” She said through a laugh and a smile, shaking my hand politely and professionally. She was greeting me like I was still her professor and she’d just happen to run into me on an errand. Next, she’d be attempting small-talk for as long as it took for me to let her go. 
Unfortunately for her, I had no plans for that. 
But I’m confident when I’m with you 
“Please, it’s just Spencer,” I reminded her, hoping to break down that governing image of me she surely maintained. 
“Spencer,” She tried again; doing it more to be obedient to my instruction than to satisfy her own desire. It sounded so unnatural to her, just as it did to me. I found it adorable, actually. It seemed like she was breaking this unspoken, and very much illusionary rule to say my first name. “It’s nice to see you again,” She added after I pulled out her chair for her.
“Is it?” I asked when I rounded the table to get to my seat. “I get the feeling you’re a little disappointed.” The only reason I pointed it out was that it was true, not just that I’d observed the notion grow more poignant in her face for the past minute.
“Not at all,” She shook her head, which luckily for me, drew a line of congruence between her body language and verbal language. At least, she was being truthful. “It’s just that I’m sort of embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed?” I repeated in astonishment, unable to cultivate a list of reasons that would justify her feeling that way. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to provoke that emotion, and it nearly broke me to consider her internal being substantiating it. 
“Embarrassed isn’t the right word, but I can’t find a more accurate one for what I’m feeling,” She shied away from my eyes when she lowered her head as she spoke. 
“You could try to explain it to me?” I offered gently. It took an overwhelming amount of self-restraint to not offer my hand with it. It would’ve been so easy to slide my hand across the threshold to enter her territory of the table, but who knows if doing so would just make her that much more uncomfortable. 
“Well for one thing, I don't really go on dates,” From this alone, I could already relate to her enough to laugh at the fact. “Don’t laugh at me! You know how dangerous first dates can be,” She swatted her hand in my direction to chastise me. 
“I do! I do! I think it’s really good that you’re protecting yourself to the point of avoiding dates,” I was teasing the implication that she wasn’t asked to go on very many, which was thankfully delivered well enough to make her laugh again. 
“Hey! Many people have wanted to go on dates with me, thank you very much. You included.” 
“Me included.” I nodded in approval. We sat in a short period of silence while we exchanged one soulful glance, borne from the insinuation of what I just said. 
“And for another ... I respect you too much as a figure of authority to see you in that way.” 
_ _ _ 
“In what way?” 
Rather than tossing me a lifeline, he was feeding me to the sharks. Forcing me to dive into the deep end. He wanted to see me struggle to stay afloat in the sea of his sticky toffee eyes. He knew I'd get suspended in them when he gave me that look. How much I’d be willing to get lost in them just so I could wander in the depths of his honeyed orbs for a little bit longer. 
That look ...
“You don’t find it weird?” This was the most honesty I could’ve demonstrated. 
“Find what weird?” For someone with such a high IQ, you’d think he’d be quicker on his feet. 
“This! You - me. On a date!” I gestured to the space between us. “You’re ... well frankly, Spencer, you’re old enough to be my father.” 
“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He genuinely cared about the answer.
“Only in theory. Not in actual life,” was the most precise response I could give.
“So what is making you uncomfortable?” Again, I could tell my answer mattered to him. 
“You were my professor once, and now I’m just supposed to go on a date with you and see you as my equal when I’ve spent the entire time I’ve known you, putting you on a pedestal? Do you know how much pressure that puts on me? To be perfect?”
“Who says you have to be perfect? Who says you’re aren’t already?” 
That one caught me off guard. I had to gulp down the lump of shock. 
“You think I’m perfect?” 
“That, or you’re pretty close to it.” 
Lately all I feel is bad and bruised
I could’ve smiled, I could’ve thanked him, I could’ve fallen at his feet and thrown my dignity down there along with it, but I just laughed. I laughed. 
“That’s ridiculous! You barely know me.” 
“You’re wrong,” He simply replied with a firm shake of his head and a cavalier sip at his drink. It showed just how confident he was in his answer. How cocky he was. 
“How am I wrong?” 
He cleared his throat as though he were preparing to deliver the world’s greatest speech. Then, he leaned forward, motioning with his fingers for me to do the same. 
“If I’m remembering correctly, which you know I am, you were the student who had the gall to raise your hand and correct me on my gender identification of the unsub, right?” 
The second the sentimental thought, ‘aww he remembered’, came into my head, it was soon followed by, of course, he did, idiot. Eidetic memory, remember?
Tired of tripping on my shoes
“What does that have to do with me being perfect? Or so you claim?”
He was piercing deep into my eyes now, his gaze overwhelming my senses and sending shockwaves akin to the feeling of butterflies everywhere … and I mean everywhere.
“Bravery is the audacity to be unhindered by failures, and to walk with freedom, strength, and hope, in the face of things unknown.” 
I recognized the quote as one of Morgan Harper Nichols, but the words went right to my chest like they were his own. 
That damn wildfire just got a whole lot bigger. 
“I’ve always thought about how if I could be unfazed by failure or even just the prospect of it, if I could just be strong enough or have enough hope to face what I couldn’t predict, I’d be set. I’d be golden,” He paused. “I’d be perfect ... but you? You, little one, have already got that figured out. So whether that means you’re perfect on your own because of your bravery or you're a perfect match for someone fainthearted like me, is up for you to decide. Whichever interpretation of being perfect you choose would be correct, but you should know - I meant both either way.”
But when he loves me I feel like I’m floating
When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody
Even when we fade eventually to nothing
You will always be my favorite form of loving
“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked when he finally refound his voice. 
“Since the minute I walked in.” I replied after refinding mine. 
_ _ _ 
“You always take girls to your apartment on the first date, Doctor?” Asking this in the name of taking a jab at him was the most clever way I could think to conceal my underlying motive of trying to gauge how giddy I could let myself feel about the fact that he’d taken me to his ‘super chic dark academia’ themed residence - Penelope’s words, remember?
“Well, in my abundant dating history,” He sarcastically began, “I can’t say I ever have, no. You’d be the first.”
That shot another quick bolt of lightning to the wildfire in my heart that I’m ashamed to admit made the heat reinvigorate. The flame must’ve been too much for my chest to contain so it had to relocate to my face, where my cheeks were left to burn under his gaze and thanks to his admission. 
I was the first. 
He must’ve seen the glint localizing on my countenance and decided to speak on it. “Why does that amuse you?”
“I don’t know,” I dumbly but truthfully replied. He didn’t need any more information to get his answer, though. Because even if I didn’t know what amused me about being his first, I never denied that it did, and that was more than enough confirmation for him. 
“You promise to be here when I come back?” He wagged a cautionary finger at me like it might persuade me to stay and hold me accountable if I didn’t. 
Spencer needed to go into his room to collect an item that ‘shall not be named’ but was apparently essential for our super secret plans tonight (secret to even me) and he was leaving me in the living room while he did so. I guess being the initial girl he took home on a first date was okay, but being the initial girl he took into his bedroom on a first date was crossing a line. 
That was alright with me, though. I was in this for the long haul.
“I promise I pose no flight risk, Your Honor,” I taunted with a coy tone. “But I can’t promise I won’t snoop around some.” Hey, at least I was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 
“Snoop around all you want,” He laughed ruefully, demonstrating an openness I quite envied and admired. “You’ll probably learn a lot about me that way. And you won’t even have to talk to me to do that!” I knew he was only saying that out of self-deprecating tendencies he harbored, but I couldn’t help feeling that a small part of him actually believed that I wasn’t interested in talking to him.
“Spencer, you know I do like talking to you right?” I caught him just before he ran into his room. Already halfway in the door, I could still catch the megawatt smile on his face. 
“So stay then,” His smile grew impossibly bigger. “We can talk all you want when I get back.” 
The door closed, and then suddenly reopened to let just his face through, a face that said, ‘Don’t go anywhere.’
After a few minutes of loudly sorting through his room, I heard the sanctimonious cry of victory. “Found it!” 
I could hear the little pad of his feet and he happily trotted out of the room. “Ta-da! My stargazing kit.” He said it as though he were introducing the basket he was holding to me, and me to it. Like it was a real person he wanted me to know. I almost felt obliged to say, ‘Hi stargazing kit! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m (y/n)!’
“Let’s go,” He smiled, reaching for my hand. 
I unabashedly took it, because although it meant that I was truly leaving his apartment, I had a very strong feeling that I would be back here again one day. 
_ _ _ 
We were lying there on this big quilted comforter that was stashed away in that stargazing kit of his, staring up at the sky, drunk on the sound of our occasional fits of laughter. 
“It’s Earth Day, you know that?” I wondered aloud in a state of complete euphoria.
“I actually did,” He said through a sheepish laugh, almost as if he was admitting the knowledge of it against his own will to protect my fragility. 
From out of nowhere, there was a small tug on the skirt of my dress. I looked down to find Spencer’s hand there, playing with the fabric until it lay perfectly on my leg. 
I coughed to possibly relieve the tension brewing in my loins. “So then you know the Lyrid meteor shower is tonight,” I moved the tiniest bit closer to lean into his touch.
“At exactly 4:33 a.m,” He moved too.
“Is that why you brought me here? To watch the shooting stars? To make a wish?” I thought for a second that I would appear exceedingly childish - more so than I already did being 21 years his junior. But he didn’t judge me at all for the kid-like notion of making a wish on a shooting star or the implication that I still believed in those things. 
In fact, I piqued his curiosity, telling by the way he moved only his head to the side to watch my reaction. “Say I did. What would you wish for?” 
In the throws of dreamy elation, I softly murmured the only honest answer. “To be older. But not the unfulfilling 9 to 5, loveless marriage, ‘I do my taxes for fun’ older. I want to be old in the ways that the stars and the sky are old. I want to be infinite.” 
“...To be infinite.” He whispered my wish back, sounding sort of in awe of me. 
Just then, the overhead horizon grew larger. With no buildings or people to block the view, it was just us, the stars, and the sky. I could actually feel that I was lying on a planet. It was so wide. So infinite. 
“Can I hold your hand?” I asked softly, in a manner so vulnerable it scared me.
Without any words or hesitation, he put my hand in his.
“The universe seems so big right now. I just needed something to hold onto.” I explained quietly, practically with the hopes that he wouldn’t hear me. But he heard.
“I’m here.”
We didn’t know what was ahead of us then. We were just two people, looking up at the sky on a cold February night. We weren’t divided by power, or age, or space. We were ourselves and no one else. 
My eyes fluttered shut again and a smile stretched across my face. “Stargazing was a good idea.”
The world and the sky and the stars and I - we were all infinite. I couldn’t have felt bigger in my own body. In the best way possible, I was taking up so much space. I was occupying the earth. I was made up of matter. I mattered. 
Just as I began to open my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a fading shooting star. Though I had wished to be older, I still felt like a child. Then it hit me. I didn’t feel older because I wasn’t older.
I was infinite. 
Yes, I was a child, but not in the pinch your cheeks, bottles and pacifiers, babyish way. I was a child in the ‘you have a life full of possibilities ahead of you’ way.
You are young. He tells me with his eyes. And that is a good thing. Be forever young. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
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elriell · 3 years
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Some thoughts on Poppy x Cass x Kieran & The Joining.
After some awesome chats with the wonderful peeps ( @silverlinedeyes , @azriiel , @rhyssescups & @azrielisababe​ ) I think that there are several little tidbits that really hint at The Joining or potentially more, I know it is a pretty mixed bag of opinions but here are some of mine. [Spoilers: TCOGB]
Implication vs. Foreshadowing
“Casteel’s arm curled, tightening around my shoulder, drawing me closer. My breath snagged as his movement triggered Kieran. He shifted behind me, and my pulse felt like a trapped bird. A sleek, muscled thigh slid between mine, pressing in. I had no idea if it was Casteel’s or Kieran’s.”
“I didn’t know when I’d stopped thinking about the fact that it wasn’t just Casteel’s body that touched mine, it wasn’t his chest that my head fell back against.”
“But that wasn’t the only explanation for why I was so warm. Heat pressed against my back. A heavy arm lay over my waist and a leg was tucked between mine.”
The first time they... have fun, he does so with Kieran nearby.
She could have easily left the joining in the air, having implied it but not intending to follow through yet we get 23 mentions, alongside several moments of highly sexual/emotional connection between the three.
Instead throughout the book we are slowly introduced to the prospect of the three of them gently, coaxing them in to the storyline repeatedly through AKOFAF.
“Cass is too jealous...” 
“A ghost of a smile appeared. “And then he’d be…intrigued.”
My mouth opened, but my mind took that and leapt with it. I had nothing to say. Absolutely nothing, but I thought about what I had read about the wolven and the Atlantians. There was a bond between some of them, and while not much was known about what that bond entailed, I was confident that a Prince was of the class that wolven would be bonded to. I wanted to ask, but considering I was in a tub and naked, now wasn’t the time.”
There is way to much we do not know about their bond, or their past to make that statement in my opinion, I think ordinarily I would agree, except with Kieran, he is the one person I could see Cass trusting with Poppy.
Not to mention textually speaking, he brings it up plenty and never seems offended by the idea. 
“I’m not judging either.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not?”
“I’m not,” I insisted.
“So, you’re interested then?” he murmured.”
“Did you bookmark the chapters detailing how Willa spent afternoons entertaining not one but two suitors, one in front and the other—?”
“You seem to know a lot about that book.”
“I love that fucking book,” he said, and my jaw ached from how hard I was clenching it. “So, you’re interested then, Princess. What a wild side you have.”
“Look, I know you’re not looking for this marriage to go beyond the necessary,” he said, and that strange, stupid ache in my chest pulsed. “So, it’s not even something you need to worry about. But the Joining is meant to strengthen the bond that’s already there, and ensure that the partner is also a part of that bond. It’s not done lightly, and again, it is not always a sexual thing. I know it’s been done where everyone kept their body parts to themselves.”
“I can always read to you,” Casteel offered. “I still have a certain diary with me. There is a chapter I’m sure you’ll be interested in. Miss Willa has the same sleeping arrangement—”
“No. Nope.” I screwed my eyes closed. “Not necessary.”
“Are you sure?” Casteel seemed to have wiggled closer. His entire leg pressed against mine.”
All of these instances are in reference to the Joining/Kieran. Never does he imply jealousy or something he would disagree with, if anything we are told how much stronger it would make the bond (though we have yet to see where it stands) and also include Poppy. You cannot convince me that she would bring this Joining up so many time only to have it never come to fruition.
 Potential Breadcrumbs
“A hundred different thoughts and emotions exploded through me, so many, so fast, I couldn’t make sense of them.”
This is during the cuddle scene, this really screams foreshadowing for her emotions and the tug-of-war she is going to undergo! 
“I…” I looked around, seeing nothing but thick fog and Kieran standing above us, staring behind me and breathing just as heavily as Casteel. Confusion swept through me.”
“Just as heavily as Casteel.” interesting choice of words.
So while we are on the topic let’s speak about Poppy & Kieran;
“Reaching for the blanket, I tugged it to my waist. A muscle flexed in Kieran’s jaw. “He didn’t force himself on you?”
“You’re okay?” Kieran asked, and I felt Casteel nod. “Penellaphe?”My tongue felt heavy, but I managed to work out a muffled, “Yes.”
He is not only focused on Casteel’s wellbeing but also Poppy’s. We also get significant growth between them and their comfort with each other...
“He lifted his brows. “Are you worried about me?” Crossing my arms, I nodded.
“Don’t be nice to me,” he replied, and I sensed amusement from him. “It weirds me out.”
“Sorry.” He smiled then as he walked to where I stood. “You don’t sound remotely sorry.” I grinned at him.
“Do me a favor,” Kieran said, looking down at me. “Protect your Prince, Poppy.”
They both understand each other because they both understand their love for Casteel and desire to protect him.
“Still caring for him would only lead to heartache,” I whispered, knowing the truth right then and there. I did care. I never stopped caring. And acknowledging that felt as if I’d slipped under the black water.
“It doesn’t have to,” Kieran said. “But even so, sometimes, the heartbreak that comes with loving someone is worth it, even if loving that person means eventually saying goodbye to them.”
The roughness in his tone spoke more than his words shared. “You sound like you have experience with that.”
This is so cryptic. Either way, it is a beautiful scene where they are opening up to each other and being genuine, not to mention the subtle hints at it being “worth it” despite the pain. Could Kieran have love/d Cas? We know from JLA that she said that most Wolven are Bi/Poly.
“I wasn’t sure how I could come to terms with it even when I had time. “I don’t...”
“You don’t want this.” Kieran finished for me, his wintry gaze meeting mine. 
We can only speculate what this is referring to but I don’t think it is strange to think it could be the Joining, not to mention JLA said she wrote a scene that was unlike any of the smut she has ever done before and it occurs at the beginning of the book or near it... I am guessing something will urge them to need to do the joining, perhaps to reform the bond between Kieran and Cass that was severed.
This goes hand in hand with my theory that something will happen that separates them and has Poppy/Kieran having to go on a mission for Cass either with or without him. I think this could be how she finds a way to balance out the scales in the development in their relationships as PoppyCass has a full book more than with Kieran.
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Not to mention this early review of the book mentions “sharing” & “watching” this heavily implies the Joining could happen.
Kieran & Cass
“If I had turned to Casteel in my sleep, Kieran had also turned, as if Casteel were a magnet that drew both of us.”
I strange turn of phrase. My thoughts are if a Poly Ship or alike were ever to happen there would need to be complete trust, a lack of jealousy and be functional much like HeronGrayStairs. 
I truly believe the potential is there between PoppyCassKieran.
“Disbelief and anger radiated from him, but I felt something else, something deeper that was warm and stronger than the anger. “I know why you’re doing this,” Kieran whispered.”
“Casteel said nothing for a long moment and then said, “It’s not the only reason.” Words went unsaid between them, but were understood nonetheless.”
Their bond is undeniably strong and I truly believe there is more to it than meets the eye, unquestionably they love each other, the question remains how.
“When a bonded elemental takes on a partner, the bond can be extended to that person. It requires an exchange of blood between the three—or the four if the partner is also bonded. And the exchange of blood…well, it is quite…” He cleared his throat as his cheeks flushed. “It can become very intimate. In a way that would most likely make you very uncomfortable.”
I just can’t see why she would make such a show of the Joining for no payoff in the next book.
“First off,” he said, struggling for breath, “I don’t think anyone is going to expect that.” From you seemed to hang unsaid between us.”
Not to mention the fact there is little secrets between them, when no one else was told about Poppy’s gift Kieran was. When no one (Malek aside) knew about Shea but Kieran, and now Poppy.
It is a recurring theme that the three of are very open with each others secrets. 
And I can only imagine it growing in the next book. 
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This ^^^^ just make me believe more and more we are getting some major Kieran development and book time, going along with my theory him and Poppy will be going to be spending time together for some reason.
So in summary, I think there is little doubt in my mind that the Joining will happen and potentially even a ship born.
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lovelybarnes · 3 years
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god- l. laufeyson
pairings: loki laufeyson x reader, mentions of other avengers x reader
warnings: mentions of blood and injuries, veryyy little angst
about: requested! loki gets captured by avengers and healer!reader watches him
a/n: thank you so so much for requesting! i am so sorry it took me this long to finish it, and it came out so much longer than i planned, but i didn’t want loki to be ooc, i hope this was good!!
part two
the words you’ve been reading over and over again are beginning to blur. you can’t find it in yourself to care too much, instead choosing to shut the book and stare at the door. your fingers are tapping on the hard plastic protecting the thin cot underneath you, and you try to concentrate on the noise rather than the worry you can’t seem to shake.
they were supposed to be back by now, you think, teeth finding your bottom lip. you weren’t allowed on this mission. while they said the reason you were staying was because they didn’t need everyone, the blatant absence of every single avenger and extended hero said the opposite. you knew the reality was that the threat you weren’t even informed about was greater than usual, and while you had powers, they weren’t as helpful as others when it came to fighting.
so you were stuck waiting for the teammates you hadn’t heard from for nearly ten hours, only able to stand by until they inevitably came back with cuts and bruises for you to fix. halting the thought of if before you could think more of it, you stood, beginning to set up all the medical equipment you usually use for when they arrive. you’re distracting yourself with pointlessly organizing popsicle sticks that you won’t need when you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the hallway. you immediately look out your open door, expecting to see the avengers, bringing the smell of blood and exhaustion, not… loki.
you can’t seem to stop how your lips part and your eyes follow him as he nears, suddenly catching his eyes through the movement of the agents surrounding him. your face heats when his lips quirk up in a small smile, sending you a flirty wink before he’s passed and you are left staring at the trace of him. you’re in a trance, and as much as you’d like to blame it on the god’s magic, you know it’s simply how attracted you are to him, even when you know you shouldn’t be.
you’ve never had a conversation with the god, barely been in the same vicinity as him, and your mind seems to be flooded with him. the avengers rarely talk about him, and on the occasion they do, it’s never remotely kind. you understand why- you saw the damage he’d caused in new york, but the more you read on him, the more you can somewhat understand why he did it, as inappropriate as it is. you’d asked thor to bring you books from asgard that loki has read and asked him to tell you about loki.
you can’t help it- the god is intriguing; it’s so magnificent how powerful he is that it nears terrifying, and he’s so stunning you’re concerned you’d make a fool of yourself in front of him, or cut your fingers on his cheekbones (although how the hell would your fingers get there? you prefer to not think too much into your impossible fantasies).
you’re not even completely certain that what just happened actually happened- because there is no way loki laufeyson looked at a puny mortal like you and didn’t gag.
a hand dropping on your shoulder is what snaps you out of it, turning around to see sam and bucky, “you good?” sam asks, and you nod, scanning the men for the injuries they came to you for. sam has a large gash along his thigh that you can see through a slash on his uniform, and forming bruises along the rest of his body, tiny cuts scattered on his face. bucky is considerably better, his speed healing is helping. there is dried blood that you’ll clean later on his face, small and slightly more serious cuts all over him but already healing, and a clearly dislocated shoulder that he set.
“alright, sam, you know the drill. bucky, please don’t grab any medical supplies and stitch anything like last time and just let me do my thing,” you request, lowering the stretcher so sam doesn’t stress any of his injuries when he sits. “lay down so i can get to work on that cut on your leg, sam.”
you help him on the bed and let him settle down by himself while you soak gauze in antiseptic for bucky. sam’s shirt is off when you turn back, holding back a wince at the darkening bruise splayed on his abdomen. you cut away his pants, wiping away all the blood surrounding the wound and cleaning it with water. “clean,” you mutter, lightly dragging your fingers along the wound, a warm pink sparkling where your touch had been, disappearing with the slice in his skin.
sam sighs when it’s all healed, looking down at his leg, “i am never getting used to that,” you hum a laugh when you move to some of the smaller cuts on his face, all of them healing with a simple move of your fingers. the yellowing that was beginning to form along his abdomen fades back into his normal skin color when your hands drift past them, and he smiles in satisfaction.
“well no broken bones this time,” you point out, patting his leg proudly. he grins, sitting up, “you proud of me?”
“very,” you respond, pressing a kiss to his cheek that relaxes all of his sore muscles, “you’re a gift to this world,” he thanks. you smile in response, sitting bucky down where sam was. sam picks up the clothing you always leave out, moving into your small bathroom to change while you work on bucky.
“how did it go?” you ask him, cleaning away the blood on his face. “not yours,” you comment on it, “i guess that’s good.”
“it went… as well as fighting a god can go,” he answers, you nod, “you fought a god?” you ask nonchalantly, as if you didn’t just have a strange encounter with said god. bucky nods, “loki. you saw him, y/n.”
your hands move in front of his face, warmth settling into the open wounds and closing them. “i was just making sure you’d tell me the truth. no one told me anything about this mission.” you pat at his arms, random injuries healing with a gentle pink. “no serious ones, right?” you ask, squinting at him as he shakes his head. “all of them healed down into small ones that you just healed.”
“okay, then,” you kiss his forehead, making his tense muscles loosen like sam’s. “do you know how much we appreciate it when you do that?” he asks, and you laugh. “making sure none of you are sore is a small thing, and i like doing it.” besides, thanks to that, you got natasha to warm up to your affection- she is now comfortable receiving hugs, and you consider that a win.
“so where’s loki going now?” you question, not noticing the three avengers behind you until tony answers, steve and natasha behind him. “one of the high security cells, you’re going to take turns babysitting him so he doesn’t try to kill everyone again.”
“i am?” you ask, motioning for the three to sit while sam and bucky leave. “not you, i don’t want anything to happen to you, but everyone else,” tony says, sitting in front of you. you roll your eyes in reply, “i’m not defenseless, tony. i’m an avenger for a reason. and it isn’t only because i can heal people.”
“why would you want to watch over him? rock of ages isn’t very interesting,” tony asks, you hold back the fact you think the opposite, continuing to pat at his cheek with a wet cotton swab. “it’s just sitting around and watching a man with an overgrown ego rant about evil plans,” natasha adds, making you shrug, “more than i usually do. most of the time, i have to sit around doing nothing until you guys come back, since steve won’t put me on missions,” you try to ignore how you’re defending someone who most of the people in this room consider a villain.
“we need to have you safe and intact in case anything happens,” steve defends. you sigh, having heard the same excuse multiple times before. “i know. doesn’t make feeling useless for most of the day any better.”
the topic is switched for the rest of the time they’re with you.
three days later, you haven’t even heard the god’s name. you can tell your conversation with tony ticked him off, and you’re worried he might have an idea of what runs through your mind when you think of loki, which explains the absence of anything loki-related. you’re disappointed, to say the least. the god you’ve been thinking about is in the same building as you, only a few floors below, locked inside a cell you know the code and have complete access to, and you can’t even think about him without the concern that tony might somehow find out. he’s been truthful about the babysitting; so far, each of the avengers have sat in with him, steve twice- you’re sure the second time was supposed to be you, but tony is infuriating and true to his word.
every avenger but you and natasha are gone today, though, and from the looks of the folder nick fury’s holding, walking down to loki’s cell where natasha is, it’ll be down to just you.
a few minutes later, you’re reading “the night manager,” when fury knocks on your door, making you look up. “you busy, l/n?” he asks, you shake your head, “have a mission for me?”
“yes. supervising loki laufeyson for the rest of the day, and preferably the night, too,” he instructs, an eyebrow raising when you haven’t moved from your seat, so you stand immediately, shutting your book with your finger bookmarking your page. “oh- yes, of course, sir. uh, i’ll get down there now, then,” you stammer, awkwardly squeezing past him in the doorway and heading to the elevator, “have a nice day, sir,” you wave, nearly bumping into a plant.
you always embarrass yourself in front of the man, which probably explains your limited interactions.
you try not to think about it during the elevator ride, foot tapping on the floor as the numbers lower until it dings. natasha is standing on the other side when the doors part, eyes meeting yours the moment they do. you smile at her, squeezing her arm when she passes to replace the kiss you’d usually place on her forehead to soothe the tense muscles you’re certain she has. she tells you to be careful in a whisper, unwilling to show anything to the god who is curiously examining you. the elevator hums as it closes, and you sit in the chair before the glass prison. “hello,” you greet with a small smile, slightly bowing your head before opening your book and flipping to the page you left off on.
it’s utterly useless, though. the words on the page are impossible to understand when you can feel his eyes on you, examining you in such a way, you’re sure he already knows more about you than you do about yourself. “it’s the night manager,” you say softly after a few excruciating seconds, setting the book down on your lap as you meet his eyes. “it’s a good book so far.”
your tone is light, and you think it’s part of the reason loki answers, “i have read it before. it’s… not completely terrible.”
“no way, i just got the god seal of approval on one of my books,” you say playfully, smiling at him before going back to reading.
“i have not seen you here before,” loki points out after a silent minute, and you nod in response, “that’s right, i haven’t gone down here since you came.”
there’s a dangerous smirk playing at loki’s lips, walking closer to you, “is it because you’re scared of me?” he asks, and you scoff softly. “you don’t scare me. you are… interesting. dangerous, of course, and i don’t agree with your actions, but i don’t think you lash out for no good reason.”
there’s a heavy quiet that follows your words, your gentle stare combatting loki’s suspicious one. you nearly pick up your book to resume until he speaks again. “you haven’t expressed your hate for me yet,” he observes, and you frown, “is that what they do? that’s not very nice.”
“neither am i, darling.” loki replies smoothly, making you shake your head, cheeks warming against your will at the pet name. “well, i don’t hate you. so i don’t see a reason to do that,” you point out.
loki actually looks… surprised for a split second, before his gaze sets on you, “and why is that?” he questions. you pause; you don’t actually know why. surely, you should- he attempted to take over your planet and hurt your friends, but you can’t bring yourself to hold any ill feeling towards him, not after hearing his brother talk so fondly of him even after all he’s put him through.
“i don’t know. i probably should, but i just don’t,” you respond in finality, trying to leave no room for the argument loki will surely bring. he quirks an eyebrow, watching as you stifle a yawn.
he surprisingly doesn’t elaborate, but you’re sure it was already on his tongue. your mind goes back to one of the previous things he’d said, and your frown returns, examining the god. you only realize it completely looks like you’re checking him out when he smirks, cocking his head, “would you like me to do a turn?” he asks, making you flush. “no, i- i was just-”
you let out a small puff of air, attempting to convert your thoughts into one coherent sentence, “are they feeding you correctly? i know shield is supposed to be humane or whatever, but some of the agents pick and choose, and-”
“do you always ramble like this?” loki cuts you off, and you shake your head, bashful, “not usually. but i’m not usually in the presence of a god.” loki smirks at that, “they haven’t. but as you pointed out, i am a god. thus i need very little food.”
the voice in your head that sounds strangely like tony is yelling at you to not care, because the person in front of you is evil- supposedly- and it would be highly inappropriate of you to care, but, like you usually do with tony, you ignore it, reaching into your pocket to get your phone. you type out that you’re hungry to maria, doubling your usual order of food with no questions from her but full of suspicion, you’re sure.
“what are you doing?” loki asks. “getting food. i’m not exactly sure what gods are supposed to eat, and it’s not like i can order a whole ham or whatever, but i don’t find myself loving the idea of starving prisoners.”
“why?” he asks, eyes slanted and head tilted like he tends to do. contemplating his question, you shrug, “because i can’t see why i shouldn’t.”
loki decides you’re bearable.
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ghostofstudentspast · 3 years
Text
Sunshine
This one was requested by my lovely mutual @wifi--witch who's been here since the start! Hopefully it's what you wanted (also it’s written in Neville’s perspective for a change which was fun!) - June x
When Neville bumps into the nicest girl he's ever had the pleasure of knowing, he's baffled to find out the truth about her house!
Word count: 1500 ish Warnings: None! It's a fluffy feel good fic x
Wandering through Diagon Alley the week before returning to Hogwarts was one of Neville's favourite things. Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley walked beside him pratteling on about anything and everything as the trio browsed for their school supplies and little treats. The summer sun was shining down on them and eerything felt right in Neville's world. Until... "Oof-" Neville felt all of the air being knocked out of his lungs as someone smacked into him.
In front of him stood the most beatiful girl he'd ever laid his eyes on. Your hair shone brightly under the sun and your eyes, which were wide with concern, he could have drowned in.
"Oh jeez, I am so sorry!" the girl in front of him looked up with concern, "I was just completely in my own world," you crouched down to pick up the bag Neville had dropped in shock.
"N-no, I-that's okay, I wasn't paying attention either," Neville managed to get out as you handed him the bag, hands briefly grazing against each other.
"Call it even then?" Her eyes sparkled with mirth as you held out her hand for him to shake, "I'm Y/N, by the way!" 
"Neville,” he took your soft hand in his own and the smile that broke out on your face was mesmirizing.
She smiles like sunshine, he thought.
“It was really nice to meet you Neville but I am already so late and I’d rather not be chewed out by my mother so I have to run!” you grinned up at him, “see you around Hogwarts?” you questioned
“Y-yeah, see you,” he trailed off as you bounded past him, hair flying behind you as you narrowly dodged a few more strangers.
He quickly rushed to catch up with his friends again who had stopped a few meters down the cobblestone street. Ginny was feigning interest in the book store they’d stopped in front of while Luna stared blatently at her friend.
“She was pretty,” Luna observed serenely.
“Yeah, I suppose she was,” Nevilles ears burned and he feared he may be as red as Ginny’s hair. The redhead in question was pressing her lips together to control the laughter he knew would soon come spilling out.
“I think you would make very attractive babies,” Luna said very seriously. Ginny lost it at this and Nevilles face only felt hotter.
“She’s not a Gryffindor is she?” He voiced after his friends had calmed down and started walking again.
“Nah, would’ve recognized her!” Ginny shook her head.
“She’s not in Ravenclaw either,” Luna chimed in as she strolled past a pet store and admired the lizards. “Lot of Nargles following her,” Luna shook her head sadly as if that explained everything. _______________________________
The first few weeks back at school went off without a hitch. No drama, no teachers yelling at him (yet) and best of all double block Herbology.Yet even surrounded by his friends, Neville found himself craning his head at mealtimes looking for a Y/H/C head of hair and that bright smile that haunted his dreams.
So when you strode into his Herbology class a week late, sporting an apologetic look he was all the more intruiged. You stopped at Professor Sprout to have an animated conversation and she offered a sympathetic smile.
“Who shows up a week late to Hogwarts,” Hermione sniffed from beside him where they were working at the same station.
“Y/L/N that’s who,” Lavender Brown hissed across the table shaking her head, “Her parents have donated as much money to this place as the Malfoys, maybe even more.”
Hermione huffed at this and returned to work but Neville’s eyes were glued to the back of your head. When you spun around to stride towards the empty spot across the room his eyes caught the glint of a silver and green tie perfectly knotted on your chest.
“She’s in Slytherin?” He voiced out loud to no one in particular as the Slytherin in question waltzed over to Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson with a wide grin, embracing them both.
“Duh,” Lavender rolled her eyes with a snort of laughter. As if he was meant to have known.
Neville must have been burning a hole in your head because your gaze snapped up to meet his, his ears turning red once again. Your lips spread into a wide smile as you offered him an excited little wave. Daphne whispered something in your ear at this and you smacked her on the arm good naturedly in response, attention diverted from him once more.
There was just no way that you could be THAT nice and in Slytherin of all houses.
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No matter what he did, the rest of the day you occupied Neville’s mind. Your beautiful smile and that stupid green tie. He knew he should just shrug off this little crush he had on you and move on with his day becaue there was no way you would be into a Gryffindor right? Let alone Neville. 
Taking up a table in the back of the library he got to work on some of his more recent homework. Saving Herbology for last, he knew everything else would be abandonded once he got to the project Professor Sprout had assigned.
“There you are! I’ve been looking all over the castle for you,” a voice interrupted his train of thought, “Let me tell you, it is not easy to find one boy in this place. So many hiding places and you were in the library the whole time,” you rambled on as Neville stared at you with wide eyes.
“Me? You were looking for me?” His eyebrows were probably in his hairline by now.
“Yeah! Professor Sprout told me I should ask you to catch me up on the week of work I missed,” you smiled and sat down across the table from him. He felt a sneaking sense of dissapointment, of course it was about school. “She says you’re the most gifted herbologist in the year!”
Neville felt the urge to shrink back at the compliment and pulled out his Herbology notes silently to have something to do. He slid them across the table towards you with a small awkward smile.
“Oh, thank you, but I was actually hoping you could talk me through everything,” You slid the parchment back to him, “I wouldn’t want to just copy your notes, that feels wrong.”
“Oh,” Neville cleared his throat and tried to find words. Any words. “Well-um, yeah, I can do that,” He pulled his notes toward himself and looked over the topics quickly. “We started with the properties of Aconite and how it relates to the wolfsbane potion, since we’ll be covering that in Potions this term...”
Once Neville was on a roll about Herbology it was hard to slow him down. He kept rattling off facts he found interesting and pertinent to the class and was only encouraged when you slid your chair closer to him to read along with his notes over his shoulder.
“And then this week, I’m sure you already know, We’re covering Venomous Tentacula’s which means it’s going to be one hell of a double block,” he chuckled to himself and turned to look at you, only to find you already staring at him with interest. He had to swallow the lump in his throat as his cheeks flushed. You were closer than he’d thought.
“Sprout wasn’t kidding! You’re like some sort of Herbology prodigy,” You grinned and Neville’s blush only darkened at the compliment. “No chance you’d wanna be my partner for the upcoming project would you?” You almost seemed shy asking.
“Oh, um...yeah, I could, I mean yeah that’d be nice,” Neville managed to stutter out.
“Oh good,” you sighed in relief and relaxed against your chair, “I mean I really need all the help I can get in this class.” You let out a light laugh.
And there was that sinking dissapointment again. He had to remind himself you were here for help, not because you liked him.
“Plus, I mean, you seem really sweet,” You smiled over to him hesitantly, “I think I could really like you.” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and looked away quickly, a blush of your own creeping onto your face.
“Y-you’re really sweet too,” Neville said finally, finding his voice again, “um the Hogsmeade weekend in a few weeks..would you want to go? With me I mean...as a date?” the words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them.
He was almost regretting the word vomit when you turned your brillaint smile to him. He relaxed immediately and couldn’t help smile back at you.
“I would love to,” you leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly, “Thank you for asking,” You smiled and sat back in your seat. “Oh shoot I have to go!” You sprang up.
“See you tomorrow?” Neville asked hesitantly.
You nodded quickly, “Meet me here after lunch,” You smiled and turned to leave “See you tomorrow Neville!” You called over your shoulder as Madamme Pinch shushed you on your way out.
A date. Nevilled grinned and leaned back in his chair. He’d asked you on a date and you’d said yes. The girl who smiled like sunshine.
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the-pale-goddess · 3 years
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Ethan & Tiffany: Endgame (HC)
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A quick reminder: I've rejected canon Third Year completely, so mind that none of OHTY bs happens in my E&T canon timeline.
A/N: I tried my best to write every major fact down - hopefully the final product isn’t too messy or too boring, I’m new to the headcanon business and this isn’t even written in the headcanon form because I’m a rebel lol
Huge thanks to the lovely Anon who requested this HC and every single one of you still interested in E&T’s shenanigans, your support is the greatest gift I could ever receive! If you have some more specific questions about these two, feel free to hit my askbox anytime 💕
Now let’s check what’s in store for Tiffany and Ethan!
Children
Neither of them planned children in their lives; they were perfectly comfortable in the relationship they had—living together, advancing their glittering careers while supporting each other, slaying the game as the ultimate power couple.
But life has its ways, of course, and a week prior to their third anniversary Tiffany found out she was pregnant. The news sparked blind panic in the 30-year-old doctor; she thought her whole world fell like dominoes. Tiffany wouldn't intentionally start a family: she'd just started turning her dreams and plans into reality and she didn't even consider herself fit to be a mother (even though deep down she craved it).
She'd spent an entire week full of doubts, listing all her options, before she finally shared the news with Ethan. His reaction was surprisingly calm, considering his stance on having children. Based on the evidence gathered throughout the week, he'd already suspected pregnancy and did some calculations on his own.
They both agreed it wasn’t the best time—their busy schedules didn’t allow them to even reconsider the concept of starting a family. Nevertheless, the baby was coming, and their hearts filled with strange excitement. Having a baby on board seemed surreal at first, but after the dust had settled they felt oddly content about the unforseen circumstances.
E&T's world turned upside down the second their son was born. Raising a child happened to be the greatest challenge these two brilliant doctors had encountered. Luckily, they both relish a good challenge. Guided by the unexpected overflow of affection, they quickly settled into the alien routine of parenthood.
Nathaniel Jonah (also known as NJ, Nate) turned out to be a perfect blend of his parents' most prominent features & traits: Ethan's ocean eyes and stubbornness mixed with Tiffany's smile and warm heart.
Three years later, another surprise awaited. The most shocking thing about the second pregnancy was that it didn't happen sooner (they'd been exceptionally careless). Nicolette „Letty”, a spitting image of her mother, stole Ethan's heart from the start, bringing even more joy to their controlled chaos.
The fancy condo was too small for a family of four, so The Ramdams were forced to find a new home. They moved to a dreamy house in the Boston suburbs merely a month before their daughter was born.
The third one (for a change) received a proper invitation to this world. Tiffany wasn't the biggest fan of the idea of having another baby, but her window was closing (she was 38) and Ethan's palpable excitement tipped the scales. Everyone jokes Aine must be adopted because she's the most unproblematic angel, unlike her parents.
The family wouldn't be full without pets: Nettie (British Shorthair cat) & Hopper (English bulldog).
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Marriage
Marriage was never on their agenda. Neither of them felt the need to make their relationship formal, it wouldn't change anything between them—they were already acting like a married couple. Both Tiffany and Ethan think there are more valuable symbols of love than some paper signed in the presence of everyone they know. Partnership they were in seemed like the most comfortable and obvious choice.
The topic resurfaced with the pregnancy news. Our good guy Ethan, our Mr Must-Do-What’s-Right, proposed to Tiffany on their third anniversary dinner, right after they discovered they were expecting. He did it because it made sense. Because it was convenient. Because it was a decent thing to do.
But guess what...Tiffany rejected the proposal. She didn’t want to marry out of obligation. If they were really going to jump into marriage, she wanted it to matter. Ethan understood her point of view, though it didn't stop him from jokingly annoying her on every given occasion that she rejected him.
He waited two years before popping the question again. This time she said yes.
Dr. Grumpsey was willing to agree on a lavish wedding if Tiffany would insist. Lucky for him, his woman hates big, conventional weddings and all that unnecessary attention around the reception. They're both very private people, so they planned the wedding they were actually excited about.
They eloped to Miami where it all started, exchanging vows to the accompaniment of the ocean waves, with little NJ by their side. The wedding reception was just three people enjoying their day at the beach.
As you may suspect, their friends and family flew into a rage when they found out the wedding took place behind their backs. Jackie's death threats were particularly disturbing, so E&T decided to throw an afterparty for their loved ones only.
Career
Tiffany saw her future in diagnostics and followed that path, balancing her personal goals with striving for improvement in patient care. The word about her accomplishments with one of the best diagnostics teams spread fast; shortly after her challenging yet successful residency, Doctor Addams quickly proved to be one of the most valuable and respected diagnosticians—not only at Edenbrook, but also statewide, and later nationwide. She cracked some of the toughest, most hopeless cases, saving lives of many patients considered lost causes.
During her first pregnancy, her career was already on high speed and the situation made her even more determined to keep it that way. She didn't want to sacrifice her newly established position and Ethan did everything he could to support her and her career development.
She remained a vital part of Edenbrook's Diagnostics Team under Ethan's leadership for a few years. Their minds combined gave spectacular results and above it all they truly enjoyed working together. However, when Letty was born sharing responsibilities at home and managing the time got significantly harder. With minimal hesitation, Ethan decided it was his cue to leave.
He'd been thinking about the change for much longer than he was willing to admit: over the years he'd accomplished everything he could dream of and Edenbrook had become more of a duty than a challenge. So he quit, leaving the team in the most capable hands of Doctor Addams-Ramsey.
For a year and a half The Ethan Ramsey was a stay-at-home dad, juggling family, research for his second book and setting up his clinic with none other than Tobias Carrick.
Ethan wasn't 100% convinced if starting the practice with Tobias would be a wise move, but the clinic exceeded his expectations. Apart from the great sense of accomplishment, he finally gained full independence at work. And there were no bloody interns to babysit anymore.
When little Ramdams got older, he approached Tiffany with a job offer; the best diagnostician in the country was the last missing link in his clinic. She let it marinate for a few years and accepted the offer at the launch of her second book, soon after Letty's 18th birthday.
____
If there’s a typo or a mistake somewhere...No, there isn’t kgjdkgjdk
Thanks for reading 🥰 I have a few exciting fics in the making (both AUs & canon) and I hope I’ll be able to finish them soon!
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lilover131 · 3 years
Text
Chapter 56 Analysis+Theories
AHHHHHH CHAPTER 56 AHHHHHH!!! <--Chrissy every time a chapter comes out
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I wasn’t as hyped up about this one as I was for the last one thankfully, seeing as we didn’t have a super long wait, but I certainly don’t want to diminish in any way the importance of this chapter!!!
I won’t waste any time and will get right to it, so buckle in, cuz’ the theory train is coming! More under the cut!
 So I’ll start by saying that when I first read the chapter, it was 2 AM where I was. I had been sleeping and just kinda magically woke up right when the chapter just came out, so I like to think there was some fate there. But when I opened that chapter on my phone and the first thing I saw was that Syaoran color spread, I audibly gasped and instantly woke up a bit.
 I woke up not because it was absolutely stunning to look at, or even at the fact that we haven’t had Syaoran in a color page for a while. No, the thing that caught my attention was the serious atmosphere it contained and the tone that it seemingly set. To me, this was one of CLAMP’s subtle ways of saying “Prepare for the final battle”. I could be reading into it too much, but I was right about what I believed the Syaoran and Kaito color page insinuated, so I’m gonna stick to my guns here.
 We start off the chapter without a moment’s pause where we left off last time. It continues right from the last point of the conversation where Sakura dropped the bombshell that she had seen Kaito use magic. She seems to think that they may not believe her at first, but Syaoran interrupts her to affirm that he 100% believes her and that he even already knew. Sakura is naturally confused by this, but he finally FINALLY gets to tell her what he’s been dealing with this whole time, and it definitely seems to be an uncomfortable topic for him. But at least this time he got to tell Sakura truthfully that he hadn’t ever intended on keeping this from her but was physically not able to. Despite not needing to feel guilty about this, Syaoran seems uncomfortable for the simple fact that someone else had that much control over him, and he was unable to do a thing to stop it. It’s also important to keep in mind that Kero and Suppi were hearing this for the first time themselves as well (about the silencing at least).
 Not much time passes after this before Kero and Suppi fess up to also knowing about Kaito, but they admit that theirs was a conscious decision rather than force, but that they believe they too would have been silenced like Syaoran was had they attempted to speak. One could say that since they didn’t know Syaoran was silenced in the way he was that this is not entirely truthful or was just a bad decision, but in reality it still makes perfect sense why they thought to be more careful. They saw Kaito’s magic first hand violently take down Eriol, and if he could shut down a magician of that caliber from halfway across the world, then he could easily do the same or worse to the guardians. And since they also weren’t yet aware of his true intentions with Sakura, it would have been likely seen as dangerous to provoke him and possibly put Sakura in harm’s way. I guess the only thing that doesn’t make much sense to me is why Syaoran and the guardians didn’t collaborate and put together what they knew sooner. Even when Yue went to Syaoran’s apartment, the topic of Kaito or Eriol never came up, and since they both clearly had Sakura’s best interest in mind, I’m not sure specifically why they chose to keep their information to themselves when they both knew they had the same goal. This, I would say, was actually a bad decision on their part, but when it comes down to it, they’re not perfect and everyone makes mistakes (I think Cinzia made the same point here, so I apologize if it seems like I’m copying here! I just also agree when it comes to this).
 I’m actually going to pull in a little thing I learned from my counselor not long ago when I felt guilt over a particular decision I had made long ago, and that is that you can only work based on the emotions and information you have at the time. And because we don’t know the future, it is not possible to always make the right decisions, but there is also no telling if our decisions would have changed things for the better, so it is best not to dwell on them. I believe truly that based on what they knew at the time and through the experiences they had, they were likely only trying to protect each other, but missed that they could have probably helped each other. It’s easy to miss things when you’re on the defensive.
 What I love about Sakura after this is that she forgives them immediately. This is not the first time she’s had things hidden from her for her protection, and naturally it’s upsetting to not feel like you can be trusted to deal with the serious information. When Syaoran told her how he’d been hiding what he knew before, she was upset but more because she thought he suffered as a result. This time around though, they concealed things from her not because they were worried about how she’d handle it, but rather out of fear from what Kaito would do if they tried, so it’s a completely different reason and much easier to forgive. Sakura is able to differentiate this, because she is a very emotionally intelligent girl and a lot more observant than she gets credit for when it comes to reading people. She’s grown a lot and isn’t as ‘dense’ as she was in Elementary School.
 Then we get a precious gift of seeing Syaoran show off how smart he is, working out how Kaito managed to make them forget about said confrontation at the botanical garden. He’s probably thought about it a lot already, considering he mentioned before that he felt like someone made him forget something. But this time, he had additional information that Sakura was able to provide, and this was the final piece of the puzzle he needed. The most important detail that Sakura gave him was the location in particular, the botanical garden. He knew that that was where they intended to go, but that they had yet to go there. This prompted him to check his phone and see how much time might have passed without them realizing, and because he knew what time he had arranged to meet Sakura, 9:30 AM, he was able to observe that it was impossible for them to meet, go to the botanical garden, have this encounter with Kaito, and both get back to their houses in only 16 minutes. This meant it was not just a mere meddling of memories but rather time magic as it was the only explanation for the time discrepancy issue and memory loss. I can’t say how freaking proud I was of Syaoran for working this out. He’s such a smart boy, but I know that Sakura also would have been able to come to the same conclusion had she had more knowledge about the magical world. Sakura is running on pure instinct right now, which is super strong, but Syaoran really helps fill in those gaps where things don’t make sense for her, making them the perfect magical team!  
 The scene changes to Momo, who appears to be keeping tabs on the conversation (though it’s unclear if Kaito is aware while they are under Siege). And this part is perhaps the most worrying of the entire chapter, and I’m not talking about the line where the English translation says “Into the final act of your story”. That line in particular is a gross mistranslation cleared up by @meimi-haneoka​, who graciously gives us translation notes each month in comparison to the Japanese version. The actual line in fact says “Into the final act of THE story”. This changes the entire tone of that page as the first translation implies it is leading to Kaito’s death, whereas the Japanese translation actually more implies that we’re nearing the climax of the story. Momo’s facial expressions also match the wording of the Japanese translation better, as we know she does not seem to want Kaito to die, so she would certainly look more upset here if she were speaking of such a thing. Also, I have to speak up about how pretttyyyy Kaito looks in that panel. The way CLAMP designed that page is just stunning as always.
 HOWEVER
 Back to what I was saying before! The most concerning part of the chapter for me is the page right before that, where Momo says “Once a spell’s been seen for what it is, it all comes crumbling down. Particularly, where time magic is concerned. And that’s to say nothing of your target’s considerable power. Now everything you’d turned back time to undo. Everything you’ve succeeded in freezing…is beginning to move again”. So here comes Chrissy’s big crazy theory and possible overthinking, but bear with me here!
I think…that what they are saying here is that these moments that were frozen in time and turned back were cut off from the timeline and now floating in a separate space. And now these scenes, which were all intense in their own way and incredibly frustrating for us, are about to move forward.
….all of them….
….at the same time….
This concept isn’t exactly new in CLAMP series. It happened with Tsubasa where Syaoran turned back time to go back to a moment where he could take Sakura’s hand and keep her from being cursed, and to keep that moment ready until he could return, it was in its own separate dimension, cut off from the rest of the universe. Eventually, once he got there, time started to move forward again. Turning back time is a taboo in the magical world for a reason, and Kaito has done this over and over and over again. But also, wouldn’t it be so like CLAMP to say “Hey, we know you’ve been frustrated that all these scenes were seemingly amping up to a big confrontation, but then Kaito rewound time over and over, so how about we give those back….ALL AT THE SAME TIMMMMEE?”. Can you even imagine the consequences of such a thing? At least three of the occasions where Kaito turned back time, Akiho went into what I call ‘book-mode’, where she is no longer herself and tries to absorb Sakura along with her magic (and even succeeds on one occasion). Then there is also Syaoran and Kaito’s battle and Syaoran having his outburst about Kaito being a magician right in front of Akiho. It would be absolute utter chaos, and honestly I’d be living for it. Lmao.
If you believe that this line Momo said was simply to state that his time magic won’t work anymore and that things will continue to progress in this timeline, that would make perfect sense as well, so I don’t want to discount that. I’m just throwing out theories here based on what I know about CLAMP and concepts that are not out of the realm of possibility.
The scenes from here on out bounce a little bit back and forth from a continuation of the conversation with Syaoran and the guardians and present time with Akiho at school. I kinda like the way they did the transitions here, and it didn’t really feel awkward at any point but rather pulled up the relevant information when it was needed.
When Akiho comes in to the classroom, Sakura recalls how the topic of Akiho came up in the conversation from the day before. It’s natural for everyone to question at this point what she knows and if she is someone to be concerned about too. Syaoran mentions that he can’t detect any magic from her, which was something he had looked into from the very first day Akiho arrived at Tomoeda Middle (he knew literally nothing about her, but you know how transfer students go in this town. Lmao). Sakura drops another bombshell here by saying that she actually senses something in Akiho, but she is unclear of what that is and why she feels that way. It’s completely likely that she’s strong enough now to sense the suppressed magic spell the association and her clan put on her. I also noticed Syaoran seemed to tense up when Sakura said this, and I’m sure that this new information probably made him feel very uneasy. Sakura’s instincts are never wrong, and if she feels something, that means there is something, but to think that it’s something even Syaoran can’t sense would definitely be concerning.
 It is then that Syaoran decides to approach the idea of addressing Akiho directly about Kaito’s magic to see what she knows. Maybe at this point in time he is thinking “If she possibly has some sort of magic in her, then she might know already about Kaito”, but like Sakura, he has seen Akiho’s behavior as a person and probably believes that she is not doing anything malicious of her own accord. Perhaps he thinks that Akiho might be able to talk some sense into Kaito and put a stop to things. But the way he goes about it doesn’t push Sakura, but rather just offers it as a suggestion as something a bit more direct.
 Before we see Sakura’s response to this, we are back to Akiho in the classroom and she is very cheerful from having gone out with Kaito the day prior, and OMG CAN I JUST GUSH FOR A MOMENT ABOUT HOW FREAKING PRECIOUS SHE IS? She is seriously adorable, and the more I see her smile, the more it makes me want to burn her whole clan down to the ground for being so awful to her. But also, it reminds me how strong she is to have gone through everything she did and still smile and hold no hatred in her heart. I can’t honestly say I would be the same in her shoes, so it’s really admirable. For those My Hero Academia fans out there, remember Eri’s smile? You know the one I’m talking about. That’s how I feel every time Akiho smiles.
Anyways, back to Sakura’s response. She decides, in a very Sakura-like fashion, to avoid the subject with Akiho for now. It is true that they don’t fully understand who Kaito is and what his intentions are, but the one thing she does know is that he is considered precious to Akiho, and that at least says something about his character. Akiho herself also isn’t an idiot and is perceptive to Kaito’s feelings. Even when he’s smiling, she can tell when he’s actually hurting inside, so if he had bad intentions at all, that likely wouldn’t go unseen either, so Sakura decides that she’ll wait for Akiho to come to her first if the discussion between them needs to happen. I think this is a very mature decision on her part but also continues to show how much she considers the people around her and cares for them.
Back in the present, Akiho apologizes for talking so much, and Sakura tells her that she doesn’t mind and will listen to whatever she has to say. More than just trying to show good will as a friend, I think this is also her way of opening up the door to tell her “If you want to talk about more serious things, I’m here to listen as well”. That way, when the time comes, Akiho will feel comfortable having that conversation with her.
The scene moves on to Yukito’s home where all the guardians are having a nice little get together in their true forms. It’s not entirely necessary for all but Yue to do this, but I love it as we haven’t gotten to see much of them in these forms in the series so far, especially Spinel and Ruby Moon. Ruby Moon is surprised that they decided to go along with what Sakura said, which I suppose makes sense considering they’ve been kinda doing their own thing up until now. But it turns out that it was Syaoran who made the final decision, and the others just took his lead.
 I love that Syaoran was so comfortable just trusting Sakura and realizing that this time, they needed to let her make some choices, especially since it concerned her the most. Moreover, I love that Kero, Suppi, and Yue just basically caved when Syaoran agreed. This shows how much they respect the opinion of not just Sakura, but Syaoran too. They could have easily gone off and continued to work secretly without Sakura, but they didn’t do that. It obviously didn’t work well for them before anyways.
 I cracked up when Ruby Moon mentioned how much Syaoran has grown a lot and used to be a ‘pouty brat’ back when they were in Japan the last time (in his defense, Eriol was screwing with him a lot, so he had a lot of good reasons for the bratty attitude. Lmao). But Kero and Yue’s responses are just precious. They both have the same expression initially, but their actual responses seem to differ quite a bit. Kero states that he will always be a brat to him and that he’s only grown ‘a little’. This is classic Kero essentially saying he agrees that he’s grown a lot, but he won’t admit it yet, hence why Spinel calls him childish. Hahahaha.
Yue’s response however makes me absolutely melt. He states he’s not upset about the mention of Syaoran’s growth, but that that he doesn’t think they “should be in such a hurry to grow up”. He sounds just like a freaking dad here who is happy to see his children grow up, but is also wanting to them to slow down and stay children simultaneously. I am absolutely living for it, and I love seeing how soft he gets when it comes to them. -squeals-
Despite how lighthearted this scene is, I’m gonna put out another theory here that might seem like I’m overthinking and perhaps makes this appear a bit darker than possibly intended. My thought was “Why did CLAMP put such focus on this subject right now?”. They could have simply stated that they decided to go along with Sakura and been done with it, but the made a point to talk about the children’s growth as human beings, particularly Syaoran. Now where am I going with this you ask? Perhaps it’s the Tsubasa PTSD speaking, but when CLAMP has dialogue like this, it usually it done quite purposely at times, because it is meant to enhance our emotions when a particular moment comes later on. So when I thought “Now, why would they be talking so much about how Syaoran’s grown emotionally and how much Kero and Yue care about him?”. I think they are trying to emphasize how much people in general care about him. CLAMP showed it again recently with Touya, who threatened Kaito and purposely included Syaoran in his statement, and again when Kaito pointed his staff at Syaoran and Sakura reacted. CLAMP is pointing out right now how much people care about Syaoran, and I think this is once again a signal that something bad is going to happen to Syaoran, and I think it’s going to be soon.
 Now, Cinzia actually recently found my reaction to spoilers of chapter 1 of Clear Card (that’s right, chapter 1 from all the way back in 2016), and from the very beginning, I have been screaming at the top of my lungs that I had the worst feeling that something bad was going to happen to Syaoran. I imagine some of you are probably tiring of hearing it from me. Lmao. So here we are, 55 chapters and numerous bad dreams later, and I finally feel like that time is really really close. I’m calling it right now that it will probably happen within the next 4-5 chapters, and if I’m wrong, I will eat my words, but them even putting Syaoran on the color page all by himself for this chapter gives me more reason to think that “that time” is approaching.
 That is a good transition for me to talk about the last part of this chapter. We are finally getting some progress on this play Naoko has been writing, and the moment she mentioned it was about “Twin Alices”, I thought to myself “this is going to be where the climax happens”. The pieces are coming together for it, and we’ve finally gotten to hear the premise of this play. We all knew Naoko would ask Sakura and Akiho to play the main roles, but it’s unclear what the role she wants for Syaoran will be when she inevitably peer pressures him into it. Lol. But I’m telling you, I really think this play is where shit is going to hit the fan and we’ll finally get some real answers.
I can’t wait to see what happens from here on out, but it’s very clear to me that things are just going to get more and more intense from here on out!!
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scintillasofbeomgyu · 3 years
Text
-ˏˋ⋆ ̥ 𝗳𝗼𝘅'𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗲𝘁𝗵 – part one: the beginning (cyj)
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pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader x kang taehyun
genre(s): fantasy, period!fic, nine-tailed fox!yeonjun, crown prince!taehyun, angst, fluff here and there
word count: 4,1k
the spirit who had been guarding the south side of the mountain, a nine-tailed fox, is requested by the crown prince of Joseon to make an appearance before his betrothed. though reluctant at first, he agrees on condition that their meeting is fleeting and under the guise of a mask.
an: this was inspired by the kdrama ‘tale of the nine-tailed’, hence the similar elements. events may or may not be historically accurate. ++ i’m really anxious about how this fic will be taken, but i’ve put too much effort in to let it sit in my drafts ksks. might post the part 2 if you want! let me know what you think!
(finally posting this as a gift for the immense support i’ve been receiving! thank you! ❤️ and low-key bc sumi has been thinkin about kitsune yeonjun)
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Sealed by the promise of two youths many moons ago, your betrothal to the crown prince of Joseon was something which was not unbeknownst to anyone in the country. Many young ladies, noble and common alike, coveted your fortune and would make desperate pleas to the gods to have half the luck you did. And perhaps anyone else would have boasted about how fate had favoured them, but you didn’t.
“(Y/n)? Are you listening?” his highness asked, raising an eyebrow as you continued to flip through the pages of a book you had picked up from his desk. You placed the book back where you found it and turned to look from the pavilion, out across the pond and above the canopy tops to the mountains in the distance.
What had intrigued you about the palace was not the status, nor the riches, nor the people who dwelt within it. After all, you preferred to be neck-deep in books of history and literature, poetry, and volumes which questioned which was myth and which was reality. Your father, though, was as open-minded as anyone else was about the education of women at the time – not at all. So you had resorted to killing two birds with one stone; appeasing your father by agreeing to meet with the prince meant getting your hands on books you wouldn’t be able to find anywhere else.
But today, you had an entirely different motive.
“Do you believe in mythical beings, your Highness?” you asked, turning to face the prince who stared back at you, wide-eyed.
The seemingly sudden question had him taken aback.
From the very first meeting, you had puzzled Taehyun. Like you, although he knew he had to do it some day, the topic of his marriage hadn’t interested him. Or rather, it was more important to him that the person he would one day wed had the same interests as he did – the good of the people and the flourishing of the country.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t expect you to be as crazed about love and titles as the other noblewomen of Joseon were, at first. So he was pleasantly surprised when you had arrived at Gyeongbokgung, not batting an eyelash in his direction. But when he had attempted to open discussions about politics and solving the exorbitant taxes expected from the people, he’d find your nose buried in one of the books from the pile you sifted through by his desk.
Taehyun was already struggling to figure you out, and now you asked him this.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” he cocked his head to the side, folding his hands behind his back. “have you come across something thought-provoking?”
“It’s quite straightforward; a yes or no question.” you shrugged, smirking as your eyes caught the not-so-discreet glances his personal guard and the eunuch had given one another.
Ultimately, to have relations with the throne was not all sunshine and roses. For your own protection, and to ensure you were not used as leverage against the king, your father had sent you very far from home – to Southern Jeolla. And it was upon your arrival back in Hanyang, after many years away, that you had come to hear the rumours which had surrounded the royal family.
A gumiho. A nine-tailed fox. The spirit which protected the forest. A being which could not be trusted. The one to whom the country owed it’s prosperity. The one at whose hands the country could fall into havoc.
You knew better than to believe the words of storytellers and self-proclaimed chroniclers. It was the fact that they had all said the same thing which had perturbed you. It left this unsettling feeling, which just wouldn’t fade away. So you read book after book, folklores and retellings, each and every documented account of those who had insisted they had seen the man with ‘eyes which glowed like hot embers even in the light of day’. It nearly drove you insane.
That was, until just this morning, when you had overheard the court ladies chattering away in hushed tones about how so-and-so had come to see the prince again, how much so-and-so frightened them, and how they wondered for how much longer the king would leave the future of the kingdom in the hands of such a wild-card.
You turned to look out beyond the trees again, a sudden gush of wind rattling their branches and sending their leaves sailing through the air. “Let me meet him. This... friend of yours, your Highness.”
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“No.”
Taehyun nodded, taking a leaf from the shrub in front of him between his fingers, “I thought you’d say that.”
Yeonjun huffed, taking a bite out of one of the freshly picked apples the prince had brought along with him on his visit (as some sort of incentive, he supposed). The scowl he had adorned etched deeper into his face as Taehyun’s proposition crossed his mind a second time. He should have left the boy to the wandering spirits all those years ago, is what he thought. The fact that Yeonjun had allowed him to follow him around and meet with him must have made him cocky.
In the beginning, he trusted them. Yeonjun had spent thousands of years cultivating the forest and protecting those which lived beneath it’s canopy. He had taken an oath to never allow any harm to come to it, and as a sort of by-product, had taken up an arrangement with the king to hand over to him any miscreants who chanced into his territory. And for hundreds of years, this agreement was honored. King after king had revered the spirit who protected the people, throwing grand festivals in his honor.
Until humans did what they always do. They became consumed by greed and corrupted by power. They feared that the existence of a powerful being, and the esteem in which the people held it, threatened the very authority of the throne.
On a night which felt like yesterday to Yeonjun, the then king had convinced him to appear before the people, reasoning that he deserved to be celebrated and loved; not lurking in the depths of a forest where he wondered alone. His yearning for family provoked, he had left, only to return to enormous crackling fires which devoured everything in their path.
Now he was being asked to entertain the likes of one of them again? An insolent, entitled woman who was probably the daughter of some power-hungry government official nonetheless? He wouldn’t allow himself to be made a fool out of again.
“I’m aware you cannot leave the forest unguarded for long periods of time, especially at night,” Taehyun said, brushing the bits of earth from his hand onto his silk garment. “which is why I want to bring her here.”
The half-eaten apple hit the forest floor with a thud.
“What did you just say?” the same incredulity written on Yeonjun’s face, embedded into his voice.
Taehyun grinned sheepishly, “Hyung, can’t you do me this one favour?”
Quickly taking a seat beside him, the crown prince of the Joseon dynasty grabbed onto the sleeve of Yeonjun’s black robe and tugged at it. Yeonjun sucked a sharp breath of air through his teeth and slapped his hands away. The memory of a scared little boy in disheveled clothes, sobbing as snot ran down onto his lips crossed Yeonjun’s mind. He bit back the grin which fought to pull at his lips.
“I thought you weren’t interested in love? Why all the effort then?”
Taehyun dropped his hands from where they had been grappling at Yeonjun’s robe and stood up, clearing his throat before folding his hands behind his back again. Yeonjun smirked. “It’s not by choice, the woman in question is frightening. Only the gods would know the lengths she would have gone to had I refused her.”
Many minutes of back and forth bickering had passed before Taehyun managed to convince Yeonjun to appear before you. This reluctant agreement came with conditions, however. Leaving the mountain for even a moment during nightfall was out of the question, but that didn’t mean that he was okay with some suspicious woman wandering into his home. So, they had settled on the foot of the mountain closest to the north side. Yeonjun had also made sure to point out that although he had agreed to let you see him, he never agreed to introductions.
“You never struck me as the type to attend parties in the evening, your Highness,” you hollered from your palanquin which lagged behind his. When no reply came, you seethed, biting back the urge to punch a hole through the expensive wooden barrier in front of you. He had suddenly appeared at your father’s estate just as the sun had dipped beyond the horizon, not bothering to give an explanation before your father had the guards stuff you into the tiny varnished vehicle. “You haven’t yet answered me, your Majesty. The question from earlier.”
You cried out in pain when the palanquin was suddenly set down, tossing you up in the air like a shuttlecock. Hand still pressing down on your head from where it had hit the roof of the palanquin, you glared at Taehyun’s outstretched hand when the door folded open. You violently slapped the hand away and pulled back your skirt, nearly kicking his shins as you climbed out. Accidentally, of course.
Your behaviour amused Taehyun, a smirk finding its way to his lips. He whispered something to Soobin, his personal guard, who had given him a distressed look in return. He sighed as Taehyun placed a hand on his shoulder, giving a quick nod before returning to the entourage. You raised an eyebrow when Taehyun offered you a smile, gesturing his hand to the left of where the road forked into two.
The evening air was brisk; the various flora emitting a plethora of unique smells which blended together as they crawled into your nose. Leaves rustled as the forest creatures scurried across the floor; the occasional flapping of wings and hoots of the wide-eyed, mice-eating predators filling the otherwise eerie silence. The pale moon, which shone like a great halo in the sky, casted it’s light through the trees, creating beautiful natural skylights and mysterious shadows. The breeze was ever-so gentle, seemingly caressing your cheeks as you followed Taehyun down the path filled with earthy soil.
“You’re going to kill me aren’t you?” He chuckled at the question you had posed. He took a firm hold of your hand as he helped you cross the stream you had encountered, squeezing it a little tighter as your shoe glided off some algae, smiling when he heard the under-the-breath cuss.
When you had both safely crossed over into the field of long grass on the other side of the bank, he caught his breath for a moment. “My men say there came a troupe from Jeonju in Northern Jeolla a few days back,” Taehyun started, motioning for you to follow behind him as he stalked through the vegetation.
You groaned. Just how much torture was he planning to put you through? Did he find out you had ‘borrowed’ some of the books from his shelf?
After another few dreadful minutes of walking, an enormous tree came into your sights. It’s trunk looked as if it could house a small population, and it’s branches spread far across the open space; a meadow. Taehyun smiled in satisfaction and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead, before placing his hands on his hips. Was this what he wanted to show you? You were far too tired, and your feet hurt way too much to enjoy the sentiment.
“Right, as I was saying,” The prince continued. You took a seat on the soft blades of grass and began pulling the shoes off your aching feet. “Despite journeying across the country to perform in gisaeng houses, I’m told the productions of this troupe were rather enthralling – ”
The sound of your snorting earned a glare from the prince. You shook your hand, “I find myself in constant surprise this evening, your Highness,” you laughed. “Hearing the term‘gisaeng’ from your mouth would send chills down anyone’s spine.”
The distant strumming of a zither whispered in your ears and your body froze. Slowly, the field, which had been lit only by the silvery hues offered by the moon, glowed in shades of green and yellow as fireflies hovered in the air. Then the zither stopped. Your neck snapped in the direction of scuffling feet by the tree trunk. Figures dressed in black placed paper lanterns varying in size at the base of the trunk, before scaling up to the branches.
A gasp slipped from your lips when the zither had suddenly started playing again; much louder this time. Ribbons dropped from different branches around the tree, carrying men and women who spun as they unravelled. Sporting white masks in the form of a fox, they danced around the tree, twirling and swinging back, dipping low before soaring through the air with such delicacy it gave you goosebumps.
“This performance is called the Fox’s Hiraeth,” Taehyun whispered, eyes fixated on the scene before of him, “you asked the other day did you not? About gumihos in Hanyang.”
His Highness’ attempt to throw you off was painfully obvious in that moment, and it did not go unnoticed. But just before you could make the remark that you had been carefully curating for exactly this situation, the zither had come to a stop once again. Leaves rustled above you and you lifted your head into a pair of the prettiest eyes you had ever seen.
They were a shade of light brown; little flecks of green and amber peeking from in-between when light passed through them. Bewilderment swam in those sparkling orbs behind the mask, it’s wearer holding his breath, not looking away for even a moment. The feeling in your chest drew a smile onto your lips, so big, it pushed up the corners of your eyes.
“Hello.”
He pulled back suddenly, and a strong gust of wind blew right through you, making you squeeze your eyes shut. The wind seemed to blow harder and harder – Taehyun had to press his hands onto your shoulders to prevent you from being gone with it. When it had died down and you opened your eyes again, you shot up, shoving his hands away.
The lights had gone out and the fireflies were nowhere to be seen. The lanterns and the troupe too had vanished into thin air; leaving not a trace. But that was not what was distressing you.
Hands clenching fists into your satin skirt, your eyes searched desperately, “where did he go?”
“Who?” Taehyun questioned, tightening the black cloth strings of his gat. He blinked, feigning innocence so professionally, it antagonised you. “The performance is over; we should leave.”
Pulling your lips between your teeth, the agonizing feeling of having lost something important tearing at your chest, you made a decision. You were positive that Taehyun knew exactly what was going on, but you weren’t about to waste any more time trying to force an answer out of the tight-lipped prince.
Where the meadow under the peculiar tree ended, the forest started again, and spread all across the mountain. You could have been mistaken, and that man may have just been another one of the performers. But it was the forest. It felt as if it was calling out to you; screaming. Every one of your limbs ached to dash into its depths.
Taehyun cleared his throat and turned away instantaneously when he noticed you hurriedly tearing off your blouse. You tossed the garment carrying the golden emblem to the ground, and slipped your shoes back on, ignoring Taehyun’s voice which bombarded you with questions.
He grabbed onto your hand before you left and you stopped, peering down at where your bodies were joined. “It’s dangerous.” he said; his voice as firm as his grip, yet eyes pleading with you like those of a child.
Despite your fathers’ lasting friendship, you had never met Taehyun until a few days ago. And if you did, you couldn’t recall. The confounded stares he had thrown at you upon your arrival had amused you; they were not contrary to that of the other noblemen and their sons whom your father had introduced you to. You didn’t act like the prince’s woman – they had probably expected someone who they could easily manipulate and bribe to their liking – but you were very much the opposite.
It was his behaviour in the days that followed which had taken you by surprise. He’d have books stacked up all around his desk which varied in genre, and were organised by author and publication date, whenever you visited. He seldom spoke and never forced conversation with you, but he’d call for tea and sweets then leave them at a certain place on the tabletop untouched. You’d catch his eyes glancing up at you every once in a while in your peripheral vision, and a smile would find itself to your lips.
He cared for you and you had grown to care for him as well. But you knew that if you left with him right now, your insatiable curiosity would only grow and you’d just end up returning here anyway.
Placing your hands over his, eyes asking him to forgive you, you slipped out of his grasp.
“I’ll be okay.”
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Yeonjun paced up and down the cliff once more. He glanced over his shoulder at the mask resting against a boulder behind him, then slapped his hands onto his face and lamented. He couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong. Everything was happening exactly as he had planned – the dokkaebi had put on their show, relishing in the fact that they were pranking humans; the trees, the breeze and the critters had agreed to set the mood for what he had intended to be your heart being won over by the Taehyun.
He peeked through the spaces in his fingers at the wooden guise, and proceeded toward it. He knelt down and picked it up, eyes fixating on the slots where they were housed previously. He was certain he had prepared for everything, but that all changed when his eyes met with yours.
They stared back at him in surprise, but that surprise slowly transitioned into a warmth which enveloped him; the light of the lanterns which reflected from them, inviting him closer. They scared him, too. Under the mask he had given himself the appearance of one of the lumberers who frequented the forest, but your eyes seemed to stare right through him. They reached into his depths, baring him before you.
Yeonjun glared, irritated with how foolish he had been. He should have trusted his instinct and refused Taehyun no matter how much he insisted. It was absurd that after all these centuries he still let himself fall prey to the ludicrous fantasy he would ever be able to live and feel as they do – he knew that was the real reason he had gone along with this preposterous idea.
His grip on the mask tightened before he hurled it into the bushes. Your voice exclaimed an ‘Ow!’, making him topple over in surprise. The golden rays of sun spilled over the summit just as you stepped out from the flora, bathing you in it’s warmth and highlighting your features as it chased away the night. You rubbed your head profusely where the mask had hit you, pausing when you noticed Yeonjun’s figure on the floor.
Hands on your hips, smiling in triumph, you blew the stray strands of hair from your face. “Found you.”
He had never in his life met such a vivacious woman. Your hair looked like a bird’s nest; tiny twigs and leaves buried within the now tousled black locks. There were tears in your hanbok. Stains of dirt, grass and mud soiled the skirt. Alas, you still had a stupid smile plastered across your mucky face. He caught himself before he started grinning like an idiot too, shuffling amongst the earth before rising with his back turned towards you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. Was he looking down on your intellect?
“You’re not very clever for an ancient spirit,” you remarked, tossing the mask at his feet. His frame froze, making you scoff.
The hair cascading down his back was a pale shade pink which shimmered under the light. It contrasted the pitch black robes he adorned, which were embroidered with silver. When he turned around to give you a look of wry amusement, you noticed the bangs which framed his face were more washed out in colour compared to the rest of his head. His slanted eyes were mono-lidded, and they glistened as beautifully as the night before. His lips were plump; it’s colour reminded you of the strawberry tanghulu you had seen in the market.
He stepped closer to you, smirking at the way you were entranced by his beauty, until his face stood only inches away from yours. You cast your eyes away from him, gulping as you took a step back. His eyebrows furrowed when you cringed, staggering before you fell to the ground.
“Are you alright?” he fretted, the role of the charismatic flirt quickly abandoning him as he helped you to your feet. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you into his arms, and carried you to a place where you could sit comfortably. You gripped only his garments tightly, eyes still refusing to meet with his; the scent of flowers lingering on your clothes as he set you down. “His Majesty did not accompany you?”
He knelt down beside you and pulled off your shoes. Blood had soaked into your socks from all the hiking you had done the night before – the back of your shoes had cut deep into your heels; climbing over boulders and through thick vegetation had made the soles of your feet sensitive and prone to cuts and scratches. He pulled his lip between his teeth, eyes shooting daggers into yours.
He poured some of the alcohol he had been storing over your wounds, and massaged in the compound he made of medicinal herbs he had momentarily disappeared to go and find. He tore pieces of his robe to bind them when he was finished, then folded his arms over his chest. “I’m taking you back to the palace.”
You jolted up from where you were seated; Yeonjun pushed your shoulders back down. “None of my questions have been answered, I’m not leaving until they are.”
“Don’t you have a prince to marry?” he contended, tapping a finger on his chin, “they’re not going to be impressed when you return looking like this.”
“What’s your name? Are you really a nine-tailed fox? How old are you? Do you eat human livers? If so, why? Is it true that you are only able to receive titles like the ‘Spirit of the Mountain’ when you don’t feed human on livers? Are you actually a woman? Do you really want the best for this country? Do you wish to bring it to ruin for your own pleasure? Is it true that – ”
He took a step closer to you, and lifted your chin with his finger, closing your mouth. You held your breath as his eyes flickered to your lips, and he smirked noticing the blush spread across your face. He reached behind you and pulled the jade pin from your hair, the tresses falling gently down your back. Bringing the hairpin before you, and his lips to your ear, he whispered, “I dare not rob the future king of his woman, my lady. You should return home for your own safety.”
His hand travelled down the length of your arm, trailing goosebumps and setting fire to your skin. He placed the pin into your hand and lifted it, brushing his lips across your knuckles. His eyes locked with yours and you gasped as they glowed like a setting sun.
A horse whinnied as it strode into the area, making you tear your eyes away from Yeonjun’s. Taehyun slid off it’s back, rushing to your side. He grabbed onto your shoulders brows furrowing as he examined you from top to bottom. “Are you alright, (Y/n)?”
You nodded absent-mindedly, searching for where he had gone. Taehyun led you to his horse, and lifted you onto the saddle, sighing as he found you still trying to see past the trees and their leaves. You squeezed onto your chest as you rode away, an inexplicable feeling overtaking you. You had to see him again. Not out of curiosity. No, you – you just had too.
Yeonjun held onto the trunk of the pine tree and swung his body around from the backside. Watching you ride off into the distance, eyes still set on finding him, he sighed, twirling the ring he had slipped off your finger around his.
“(Y/n), huh?” he muttered under his breath, exhilarated by the way it rolled off his tongue.
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xlehukax · 3 years
Text
Thank You For The Music
Foreword: This is for the Sanders Sides Gift Exchange! Analogical Soulmate Au, as requested by @romantichopelessly! Happy holidays. And there’s also a playlist!  @sanderssidesgiftxchange! 
Ships: Logan x Virgil, (Background) Patton x Janus 
Word Count: 8374 
Warnings: SelectiveMute!Virgil, like one fight scene, Cursing, Logan’s ignoring feelings, it’s mainly the Logan and Virgil show... I don’t think there’s really anything! 
Summary: Logan’s been asked to assist a local student on campus. Having nothing else to do, he agrees: and so starts a connection that he would’ve never expected, and one that flowers more beautifully than he could ever imagine. (Soulmates can hear each other sing in their heads: Italics are either singing or sign language) 
~~~~~
Somehow, Logan thought his fourth year in College would feel different. Like he’s gone on some sort of journey: like he’s learned in the education manner but also in the lifestyle sort of way. 
It doesn’t appear that way. It seems like Logan’s the same. 
No friends. 
No challenges. 
Nothing to be excited about whatsoever. He’s going to college for the degree at this point, and the title alone. It’s why when the professor for his Microbiology class asks him to stay after, it shocks him. Especially so close to the end of the semester. 
Is he not doing enough? A quick inventory of his mind ensures that he hasn’t forgotten anything. The professor must need something: she’s taken a shine to him anyway, it probably isn’t bad. Logan gathers his things and then places them carefully in their individual places in his bag: once everything is where it belongs, in pockets and folders and sections, Logan presents himself to the professor. She smiles at him over the top of her laptop, eyes sparkling with mirth before shutting the lid of the machine. 
“Thank you for seeing me, Logan,” she grins. 
“I’m going to be blunt here: why have you asked me to stay? I assume that there is nothing out of order.” 
“No, no… your grades are impeccable, participation is great, and you’ve been fantastic. It’s simply that you’re so outstanding that I want to ask a favor,” his professor asks shrewdly. Logan hums for a moment, debating, before wincing in pain and clutching his temple. 
“Logan! Are you alright, dear?” 
“Ah, yes. It’s merely my soulmate,” he says by way of explanation. The professor smiles broadly. 
“How fantastic! Anything good?”
Logan quickly takes stock of the song: his mystery mate sang Overkill yesterday during Office Hours, and Sally’s Song the day before that while he was at his college apartment. He only knew because a) these were repeating songs, and b) he’d looked them up right away. Listened to them after the music fades to hold them close. 
It’s funny that he never once thinks that the original is better in any sense than the sweet song of his soulmate. His (Logan’s assumed it’s a he, based on his own sexuality and interests) music is so sweet: his voice is lilting and beautiful and it makes Logan feel so guilty. So guilty, because he must be the most beautiful man in the world and Logan hasn’t given him anything. Logan does not… sing. 
And in a world where you hear your soulmate’s singing in your own head, it’s a betrayal. 
“So? What is it?” the professor’s voice snaps him back to reality. 
“Oh, I’m not sure. It seems to go… oh, oh, oh, I got a love that keeps me waiting. Oh, oh, oh, I got a love that keeps me waiting. I’m a lonely boy, I’m a lonely boy,” he repeats the song in a monotone. The professor snaps her fingers. 
“Ah, The Black Keys. Lonely Boy, a classic!! It’s a good song, your soulmate has some bloody good taste. And, what are you doing, letting them be lonely like that?” she winks at him, “It’s quite the song.” 
“I do not see how this is relative to our conversation,” Logan deadpans, tired of this discourse already. If it has nothing to do with academics, he doesn’t want to hear it. 
“Oh, I’m sorry. I got off-topic. Anyway, you know ASL right?” 
“Indeed.” 
“Perfect,” she smiles gently, getting up from the desk and dusting herself off, “There’s a student at the school, it’s his second year: he’s mute and uses primarily ASL to communicate. So far, he’s been surviving by being with his brother. But the brother is changing schools after this semester to go to a better nursing school and… well, we need someone to look after Virgil. Virgil Williams is the name of the student and Patton Williams’s the brother. There’s not a lot of students who know ASL here, and from what I’ve heard you don’t really participate in extracurricular activities. This would be not only a great way to flesh out your resumé but also simply a great thing to do, you know, humanitarian wise. Would you be up for it?” 
Logan considers for a moment. It’s true, he doesn’t do a whole lot outside of schoolwork: he does tend to have too much free time spent re-reading books. It doesn’t have to be anything special: it’s only helping this kid when he needs it. No problem whatsoever: he’s tutored people before, it’ll be similar. 
“I don’t see why not. Do I have an opportunity to meet with them before I agree completely?” 
“Oh, of course! They should be at their dorm now… here’s the dorm number,” she passes him a slip of paper and what this job will entail and waves him off. The dorm’s only a short walk away: it’ll be less than a ten-minute walk from the lecture hall if he crosses the Courtyard. 
Logan walks briskly: he doesn’t require the extra exercise due to his rigorous workout schedule but it’s always nice to stretch his limbs. He breaks into a light jog, his bag bouncing slightly on his back as he moves, and makes it there in exactly 8.7 minutes instead of 10. Logan wipes the sweat from his brow with a cloth before entering the dormitories and heading to the shared Williams dorm. It’s on the third floor, right outside the elevators. 
Logan takes the stairs. 
He combats a sudden influx of nerves at the door: swallows it deep and regulates his features. Professional, he thinks to himself. Be professional. 
His knock is answered immediately as if they were standing at the door. Logan’s presented with a man who breaks out into a broad smile immediately: his hair is pulled up into a small bundle at the top of his head, sparse brown curls sticking out haphazardly. He’s quite large and strong-looking: he’d be intimidating if his eyes didn’t have that same sort of sparkle that the professor did, his large circle-rimmed glasses hiding absolutely nothing. 
“Oh!! You must be the guy the Prof knew!! Hello! I’m Patton!! It’s so great to meet you!! Agh, I’m so excited! Well, Virgil too,” he grins. Logan blinks. He is… a lot. 
“Greetings. I am Logan,” Logan signs the words alongside the verbal words to demonstrate his fluency. Patton squeals and Logan winces. 
“Haha, sorry about that. Again, eee! So excited! I’ll introduce you to Virgil,” Patton holds the door ajar for Logan to enter, gesturing to the small pile of shoes to remove his. Logan gently unties his trainers and places them beside a pair of Doc Martens and Toms. They’re about as different as they could be: one is black and bulky with thick purple laces, the others a sky blue with little paw prints. Polar opposites. Logan diverts his attention to Patton, who’s been jabbering on about something or other. 
“-and there he is! Virgil, come on out kiddo- meet Logan!” Patton coos at what at first glance seems to be a shadow but in reality is a man who practically hides by the door of the conjoined bedroom. He’s encompassed by an oversized hoodie. 
“Hello, it is nice to meet you, Virgil,”  he signs out silently. Patton bites his lip to stop himself from speaking, but his noises of excitement escape anyway. Virgil signs back a meek hello: his hood falls off in the process, and Logan scrutinizes the face that he’s apparently going to be assisting for a while. 
Virgil has long dark hair: unkempt and uncut, old dye lingering stubbornly on the tips of it. His eyelashes are long, drooping over his cheeks, as he avoids Logan’s gaze. He possesses dark circles under each eye- so dark it seems intentional. Virgil tugs his hood over his head the moment the silence stretches a bit too long, and he’s gone: a rabbit ducking into a hole. Logan wishes he’d put the hood back down. 
In all regards, Logan means to say that Virgil holds palpable beauty. 
The idea within itself isn’t strange: Logan understands the various societal norms and standards that society adheres to beauty and usually makes deductions off of that, but there is… something about Virgil. Virgil’s not muscular looking, or overly lean, or anything of the sort. He’s simply…  enchanting. 
“Well, say something!” Patton shouts, breaking the silence. “Or, I mean, sign something, Virge. It’s too stifled in here: do either of you want something to drink?” 
“Water?” Virgil signs. His hands are shaking.
“I’ll have one of those too,” Logan adds on. Patton smiles at the two of them and finger guns. “You can hear, correct?” Logan asks, keeping his tone easy. He makes sure to enunciate each of his words, just in case. Virgil blinks up at him moonishly. 
“Yes,” Virgil says, worrying at his lip. 
“You don’t need to be afraid. I’m only here to help you,” Logan attempts to smile at him comfortingly: judging by Virgil’s expression, it seems more like a grimace. “Let’s sit down and talk about this, alright?” Logan sighs. He pulls out a chair at their small table and lets Virgil sit in it, pushing him in. Immediately after, Virgil pulls his legs to his chest and wraps his arms around them. He’s vanished completely into his hoodie. 
Logan sits next to him, rather than across: he doesn’t want to make him feel like he’s being interrogated. 
“I’m sorry,” Virgil says. 
“You have nothing to be sorry for?” Logan replies, more of a question than an assurance. “My apologies Virgil, but you’re not trying to impress me. I am simply here to introduce myself so that I can begin to help you. I am here for you. You can take as long as you want.” 
Virgil peeks out from under the hoodie like a prairie dog emerges from a hole. Hair first, then curious eyes, then his hands. 
Logan smiles. 
“Now, let’s draw up a contract here, to outline what we’ll be doing this year. I do believe,” he retrieves the papers the professor had given him, “that you already have a solution for classes, so you will not require my assistance there. It’s more after school hours and personal activities, no?” 
Virgil nods meekly. 
So… Virgil just needs a… friend? A friend who knows ASL? Logan’s heart swells in his chest: Virgil just needs a friend. 
Logan doesn’t let his excitement show: because deep down, deep enough that he’ll never admit it fully- let alone say it aloud- he’d truly like a friend too. 
And as Virgil glances over the contract and bites his nails and spares him the smallest glance before Patton returns with two glasses of water and a plate of supermarket cookies… Logan can’t help but feel like this will become more. 
The contract is solidified: Logan will go to Virgil after his classes end, assist him with homework or anything else he needs at the time. Logan will be on speed dial for him if talking to people if needed. Logan will be paid a small sum per day, as well as the equating service hours. 
Patton can’t stop thanking him with tears in his eyes. Virgil doesn’t look at him once, spares him no glances. Rather, his eyes are downcast for the next hour that Logan’s there. He has a little fidgeting toy and presses it in his lap. Logan exchanges cordially with Patton, Patton cheers animatedly, and Virgil is silent. 
“If I may ask… why now? Is this not your second year of college? Why would you leave now?” Logan asks. Patton’s expression saddens. 
“Oh… well, I’m transferring to a better medical school after this semester and- I couldn’t leave Virgil here without any help- he waited for me so we could go here together and… I can’t leave with no safety net for him,” Patton says tearily. He wipes at his eyes and goes to squeeze Virgil’s shoulder.
Virgil sinks deeper into his hoodie. Logan feels deeply uncomfortable. 
“So thank you, Logan: you seem so nice, and so smart, I’m sure that I’ll be leaving him in capable hands,” Patton assures him, and then looks at the time mounted on the wall, “Oh! You must be going now, huh? I’ll walk you out,” 
“Goodbye, Virgil. I look forward to seeing you soon,” he says curtly, before letting Patton lead him back to the door. As he ties up his shoes, Logan opens his mouth hesitantly. 
“You are… you are a good brother, taking care of your younger sibling like that,” he does his best at comforting. Patton laughs at him. 
“No, no! Virgil’s my older brother by two years. Technically, he should be at your level: but he waited for me to go. We’re really close and we help each other out so… Goodness, that’s the reason why I’m doing all this, reaching out to the teachers and organizing things for him. I want to -no, I need to- help him out. Like he’s helped me,” Patton explains. Logan blinks. This means two things. 
Patton feels guilty. He feels oh so guilty, and Virgil probably feels betrayed. Betrayed and alone. 
Virgil and Logan are the same age. 
~~~~~~
The end of the first semester comes quickly. It was only a few weeks away, and Logan spends minimal time with Virgil: giving the brothers space to make amends before he comes between them. 
On the last day of the quarter, Logan makes his way to their dorm room. Music had been stuck in his head all day: his soulmate singing the same song over and over again. It’s beautiful, of course, but nagging as he tries to focus. Logan debated singing a little “shut up please” but even that little snippet of musicality makes him nervous. 
And what would his soulmate think? What would he think, after years of silence, that the first thing he gets in return is a demand for silence? Logan shivers at the thought of it. The song goes: Time is an illusion that helps things make sense, so we’re always living in the present tense- it seems unforgiving when a good thing ends, but you and I will always be back then. 
Logan likes the scientific simplicity of it, and finds himself humming along as he swiftly walks across the courtyard to the dorms. His soulmate’s voice rises with the music: piano, he thinks. His soulmate is playing the piano and singing over and over and over again. In his mind's eye, Logan wishes he could comfort him: do the soulmate things that soulmates do. Embrace him and calm him and quell his fears. The music fades in time for him to get to the dorms: Patton’s already outside, bags packed. 
Logan is giving, or rather attacked, with a hug from Patton. 
“You are leaving now, yes?” he says, trying to make it seem like he’s not worming out of the embrace despite his discomfort. Patton releases him after a moment, worrying at his lip. 
“Yeah! I’ll visit as often as I can, call me if ANYTHING happens, and-” 
“Patton,” Logan grips his shoulders, “I can handle this. Go on now,” Patton nods tearily. 
“You promise you’ll take good care of my brother? You have to- to pinky promise, because if anything happens to him it’s going to be my fault,” Patton wipes his eyes, and there’s that intimidating that he always knew Patton had the potential for: “You have to promise. I love Virgil more than anything or anyone in the world. He is the kindest, most thoughtful person. You may not see it right now, but he is. Virgil is the best person I know. You have to help him when he needs it, even if he doesn’t want it,” 
“I promise, I’ll perform to the very best of my ability Patton,” Logan says steely, “I promise. You go and pursue your dreams.” Logan and Patton both glance up to the window of the dorm that Virgil’s in: the curtains are closed, and Patton sighs. Gives Logan a meaningful look. 
Patton juts his pinky in his face, and Logan exasperatedly links his. Patton’s face brightens, and leaves to the nearby road where a taxi awaits. In Logan’s head, a new song begins. It starts with a guitar and then continues with his soulmate’s angelic voice: “Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup, they slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe-” 
Logan watches him go for a moment: and then he starts walking into the dorms to check in on Virgil. Logically, he’s probably feeling due amounts of stress and uncertainty in the new situation. 
“Nothings gonna change my world, nothings gonna change my world…. images of broken light, which dance before me like a million eyes, they call me on and on across the universe,” 
Logan’s heart feels full, an odd feeling: there’s something about the music and the situation that blends and rushes into his chest so wonderfully. Perhaps this is what it’s like to be with your soulmate: life and soul singing together in perfect harmony. 
“Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box, they tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe,” 
Logan takes the stairs step by step, enjoying the music as long as he can. 
“Nothings gonna change my world, nothings gonna change my world, nothings gonna change my world, nothings gonna change my world…” the music stops all at once, guitar too: Logan misses it for only a moment, before he remembers that it’s no passing street musician but rather his soulmate. His soulmate who sings so perfectly. The soulmate he’ll never meet. 
He arrives at the Williams’ dorm- err, now just Virgil’s, and raps on the door. He waits for a “coming!” but then realizes his mistake. He waits patiently for Virgil to open it: and when he does, it’s only a crack. Logan stares back at the scrap of Virgil’s face he can see. 
His lips purse. 
“Would you like to let me in?” Logan asks gently. Virgil’s face tightens nervously, and he signs something quickly. 
“I’m not okay right now,” he says. Logan swallows. 
“Can I help with anything? Or should I leave?” he keeps his voice as soft as he can. Virgil’s head shakes a vehement ‘no’. 
“Virgil… I-” he tries to come up with a reason, a real reason for him to stay. There is none. If Virgil says he doesn’t need any help then there’s no reason to stay. Logan swallows. “If you have no need for me… then I… I should leave,” he sighs. The door closes shut behind him with a click. 
Logan’s moving to leave when he has a new idea. He raps on the door once more. Virgil’s face peers through the crack in the door again. He rolls his eyes at Logan. 
“What is it?” he signs. 
“Fancy a game of chess?” 
~~~~~
Unsurprisingly, Virgil is a silent but deadly good chess player. He’s forward thinking and takes no risks that he can’t counter the backlash of. Logan is thrilled to play with someone so astute. 
“Checkmate,” Logan announces, after a long and difficult game. Virgil huffs in mock indignation, and knocks down his own king. “You’re quite proficient at this, Virgil. We should play more often.” 
Virgil blushes, signing a quick “Thank you” and then zipping his hoodie up further. Logan finds himself smiling at him. 
“Would you like to go again? Or do you have work to do that I can help you with?” 
“Again,” Virgil signs, hands quivering slightly. Logan chuckles and resets the board for another go. Virgil bites at his nails and waits. It’s too quiet without Patton’s incessant yammering. Logan decides to ask the first question that comes to mind. 
“Do you have a soulmate?” 
Virgil makes sweater paws and ducks into his hoodie more. 
“Oh- I’m sorry, is that a bad topic-” 
“No. I do not have one.” 
There’s been cases of people ‘missing’ soulmates: only to find that they were dead, or that they didn’t want a soulmate and merely ignored them. Or like Logan, who don’t sing whatsoever. 
“Ah… well, that’s a shame, Virgil. You’d be amazing to have as a soulmate, I’m sure,” 
Virgil flushes deeper, if it’s possible, and hugs himself. Logan finds himself smiling again: Virgil’s cute. 
Perhaps he said it out loud, because then Virgil’s growling at him and signing a “Fuck you, I am not!” 
“Maybe just a little bit?” Logan teases, he teases, such an odd and different thing for him to do. But teasing Virgil is different. It’s like another game and Logan doesn’t feel out of place or silly: it’s still serious.
“No! No!” 
“I think you are,” 
“No! What? No!” 
“Hmm,” Logan merely says, finishing the chess board. 
~~~~~
His soulmate has a crush. A sort of crush that’s teetering constantly between deep pining and attempting to squash it. 
It’s apparent, between the lines of “Fly Me To The Moon” and “despair”. In other words, I love you. Cause it’s not romantic, I swear. Fill my heart with song and let me sing forevermore. I want you to be here, but please don’t come near. You are all I long for, all I worship and adore. It’s not love, I swear. 
Today’s song is “Raincoat” (according to the internet) and if that’s not appropriate, Logan doesn’t know what is. Once more, Logan wishes he has the confidence to thank him for the soundtrack that’s been accompanying his life as it rises in joy each day. 
These songs… they’re a quick change from the dreary songs that had been going on a few weeks ago. Logan, ironically, doesn’t mind the sappiness, actually. Usually he would, but it fits his recent joy. 
Virgil’s exactly what he wanted, what he could’ve never hoped for. He’s smart, he’s clever, he’s shrewd, he’s not touchy, he respects boundaries… 
It’s perfect. Logan goes and sticks with him each and every weekday after classes end. They work together, they read together, they watch True Crime shows, they eat dinner together, they play chess and cards and backgammon and Clue and everything possible. They talk: and miracles upon miracles, Virgil seems to like him. 
Today is different. Today is a weekend: there’s no real reason that Virgil should need him, he’s never before, but he was invited to have lunch with him anyway. Even though it’s going to be snowing! Even though it’s freezing! Even though in any other instance Logan would be curled up at home with a good book and Star Trek. And rather… rather they’re going to get Hot Pot at the small university town in Logan’s ramshackle car. It gives Logan the strange feeling of hope rising in his chest that Virgil wants him around as much as he does. That Virgil enjoys it as much as he does. 
Enjoys the company, the quiet, the whole thing. 
He doesn’t even have to go up to the dorm: Virgil’s waiting for him outside the building. Logan waves after he gets out of his secondhand car: Virgil offers a small one in return and walks up to him. He’s all bundled up in several mismatched layers: though he still wears aggressively ripped jeans with skinny knees peeking through, he’s wrapped in several warm coats. 
Logan gets a sudden urge to press a kiss to his shaggy hair and hug him tightly, the slouching man at the ideal height. He squashes it quickly, blushing anyway at the mere thought of such romances, and lets Virgil into the passenger seat without looking at him. Virgil taps his hands on the front of the car, a rare grin donning his features. Logan swallows. 
Virgil has never looked more beautiful than he does right now. With a smile and all of those layers and his hood just barely adorning his head. Logan notices now that his makeup is different today: a sparkling purple rather than the usual dark tones. 
“Where to, Virgil?” 
“I do not care!” he signs excitedly. Logan chuckles. 
“How about sushi, then?” 
Virgil smiles and nods. Logan sets the car into reverse, and then drives out of the parking lot. Virgil fiddles with his fingers. I should say something…
“Would… would you like to listen to any music, Virgil?” Virgil’s head bobs an exuberant yes, and Logan gestures to the old car radio: Virgil fiddles with it, and finally ends up with a channel that’s not staticy. 
‘You’d be like heaven to touch… I want to hold you so much,’ At the beginning of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ Virgil sinks into his hoodie: Logan casts his eyes off the road for a second, glancing at Virgil- the scrap of his face that he can see is ruby red. At least the car isn’t silent anymore, he thinks to himself. Virgil’s quiet (well, not signing), and the song plays to completion and fades into “This Guy’s In Love With You”. Virgil, if it’s possible, seems to hide even more. 
“We’re almost there, do you want me to turn it off, Virgil?” Logan suggests. 
“It’s fine.” 
“If you say so… seems like you’re hiding but…” 
“Fuck you.” 
‘Say you’re in love, in love with this guy… if not, I will just die’ 
Logan turns off the radio as they turn into the parking lot of the local sushi joint. He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to Virgil. 
“Eat in or take out?” 
“To go,” he signs. Logan hums: maybe one day, they’ll be able to go out together for a meal. Virgil doesn’t like public places due to his anxiety, and Logan doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable and he’d never push him but… it is a classic ‘friend’ activity to go out for dinner together. It would be nice, but having a friend generally is nice and he’s not about to lose him over some stereotype. 
Virgil’s not ordinary, so why would their friendship be? 
“Come now, Virgil, let’s order,” Logan gets out of the car, helps Virgil out, locks the car. It all feels very normal, very quaint. He has to admit that he enjoys it, despite what one would think if they met him. 
Walking into the restaurant is normal. Ordering food (ordering for both of them)? Also normal. They wait for their sushi in the front, Virgil warming his hands by blowing on them. 
“Do you enjoy spending time with me?” 
The question bursts out of Logan with little warning: he doesn’t even register that he said it until after it’s out of his mouth. He’s about to rescind the words when Virgil responds. 
“Yes. Yes. I love spending time with you,” He blushes slightly, looking away, “And you make me feel safe.” 
Logan blushes: he grabs the newly presented food and goes back to the car- but Virgil grabs his sleeve. 
“Do you want to sit in the park?” Virgil asks, nervous after the flurry of hands.
“It’s freezing outside,” 
“I know,” he signs, his expression saddening slightly.
“There’s no one out here.” 
“I know, I can see. I’m mute not blind,” Virgil rolls his eyes, heading for the car already. Logan chuckles and clasps his shoulder: Virgil stiffens under his touch.
“I don’t think I said I didn’t want to,” he teases. Virgil’s eyes widen, and then a smile creeps up his lips. 
“Okay!” Logan and Virgil walk right next to each other into the park: Virgil signs quite fast that he rather likes the cold, and that the skeletal trees remind him of his favourite movie, and does Logan like Nightmare Before Christmas, and what about stop animation? And halloween movies? 
Logan chuckles and answers all of his questions, slowly fielding them back to him. Virgil never talks this much when they’re in public. It’s nice to see him opening up, Logan thinks to himself pridefully, Is this my doing? 
He doesn’t mean to preen, but it happens anyway. 
“Why are you doing that with your chest?” 
“Oh, apologies, Virgil. It was accidental.” Logan reels himself back in: it’s so strange to have to do that. He’s never done anything like that, something that breaks his front stage appearance. It’s odd: like there’s another, smaller, smiling, animated Logan inside of him. A little Logan that’s been ignored and malnourished for a while now. Virgil giggles though, and Logan stops amidst his musings to stare at him. 
That was… cute. Why was that cute? Genuinely cute, not teasingly. 
Virgil catches him staring and glares at him, though his cheeks flush. 
“What are you looking at, nerd?” 
“Ah- it’s nothing. Would you like to sit down here and eat?” Logan points to a random bench: Virgil shrugs and sits, holding his arms open for his food. Giving him his food and sitting down next to him is a battle of wills: if it was another other person, in any other situation, he’d excuse himself and leave. But it’s Virgil, and the man looks so thrilled to just sit with him: it’s his friend. He’s not abandoning him. Even if his emotions are crawling up his throat. 
The silence is amicable as they eat. The first flakes of snow start to fall, and Virgil’s attention is drawn to them immediately. He watches the snowflakes float down slowly, enraptured. 
“You’d think you’ve never seen snow before,” Logan chuckles. 
“Fuck off,” Virgil signs fluidly. He doesn’t even look at Logan, simply eats his sushi and quickly stands to spin in the snow. “It’s beautiful.” 
“Yes,” Logan agrees, as he watches Virgil laugh quietly and kick the powder around, as Virgil’s eyelashes are decorated with snowflakes, as he holds his tongue out like a child, as Virgil looks so free and unafraid in his lonesome company… “It’s quite beautiful indeed.” 
~~~~
Patton’s coming back in two weeks. The second semester is almost over, spring finally showing her colours after a frigid winter, and Logan’s almost nervous. The music in his head doesn’t help whatsoever to calm him. What if something changes? It’s not like Patton’s staying, he’s allegedly very happy at his new school, but… Logan can’t help but worry at the idea that something in their dynamic will change irreparably if Patton reenters. 
There’s nothing you can do about it, he assures himself once again, Just keep doing your job. Logan’s class lets out early, and he takes a brisk jog to meet Virgil outside his class. By now, Logan knows his schedule by heart and knows where to meet him. 
He waits outside the lecture hall, student after student exiting… he waits until it’s fifteen minutes after his class has ended. Frowning, Logan peeks inside: it’s devoid of people, even the professor. 
“Virgil?” he calls out into the empty room fruitlessly. Panic starts to rise inside of his chest as he calls for the anxious man. “Virgil? Virgil, where are you?” 
He searches each aisle of the lecture hall, calling Virgil’s cell phone. Virgil hates it when he calls him, but if he’d just pick up, it means he’s okay. Logan feels incredibly antsy as he runs out of the room, sprinting at full force (he’s a strong man) around campus calling for Virgil. He wipes at his face: he can’t have the budding tears block his vision. He needs to find Virgil. 
“Virgil, where are you? Virgil, I need to find you. Virgil, please please be okay,” he dashes around a corner and drives his heels in to stop. 
Virgil. 
His beloved hoodie in a secluded alleyway. 
Logan reaches down and grasps it: he’d never leave it alone, let alone in a public place. Logan shakily picks it up into his hands, feeling the fabric: it’s dirtied. He gently folds it and puts it under his arm.
He’s starting to walk away when he hears the muffled shout and the sound of a punch’s impact. 
“Oh, so you want to talk now, huh?” Another punch. “Fucker.” 
Logan walks purposefully in the direction of the noise: two large women and one large man are whaling on Virgil, kicks and punches and spit, who’s curled up on the paved ground in the fetal position. Logan takes out the first buff woman with a strong punch to the side of her face, the second with a well placed kick and shove. The man runs away, pulling his fellows along with him. 
“Virgil, they’re gone now. Are you alright?” 
Virgil makes a broken sob, holding his midsection with his eyes downcast, and spits out some blood. Logan sighs and bends down to Virgil’s level, and wipes his mouth with a handkerchief from his book bag. He gives Virgil his hoodie (which he takes to immediately) and rubs his back. 
I should’ve gone after them, made them pay- 
“OH MY STARS, are the two of you alright?” a fanciful voice calls out from the entrance of the alley way. 
“We just saw a trio of assholes running away with some wicked bruises-” 
“Remus, that’s not the point!” The two boys walk into the alley, one worrying with a red letterman’s jacket and coiffed hair, the other (Remus) morbidly interested with a large denim jacket and wild hair sticking up every which way. They have the same face, unnervingly, though the wilder one sports a partially-grown mustache and the other has a scar though his eyebrow. 
“Alright, alright, I’ll bite. Are you okay?” Remus asks, extending a hand to Virgil. Virgil looks away and tucks into Logan more. Remus retracts his hand with a shrug. Logan gives the both of them steely looks. 
“If you’re here to promote any more harm or mockery, I advise you to leave concurrently.” 
“Ooh, put those big words away, Daddy,” Remus mocks. His brother elbows him roughly. 
“Remus, be nice. They’ve clearly been through quite the ordeal! Greetings, I’m Roman, this is Remus. We’re in Virgil’s class, and we saw him being… escorted, one could call it-” 
“Forcibly swept away!” 
“-Thank you Remus, out of class so we followed along after reporting it to the professor. He seems to be in quite a state: is there anything we can do?” Roman finishes, rolling his eyes at his twin. Logan sighs and adjusts his glasses. He doesn’t want to accept their help. He can take care of Virgil by himself. But…
He takes a closer look at the poor beaten man, at his bloodied mouth and shirt and his bruises and scrapes and thinks beyond him. 
“I thank you for reporting it to the teacher. This is a heinous act, and I loathe to think of what would’ve happened if I arrived later or not at all,” he attempts to look thankful, but judging by their expressions, it doesn’t work. Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Could you alert the on campus clinic that we’ll be coming? One of you? The other can make sure they don’t come back as I take Virgil there,” with that, Logan takes a deep breath and gets to his feet, holding Virgil tightly in his embrace. Virgil turns into him, making a pained sound. 
It breaks Logan’s poor heart. My friend, my friend, my friend- he’s hurt. 
“It’s alright, Virgil. I’ve got you, you’re safe now,” he whispers to him. 
“Cute!” “Ick.” 
“Oh come on now, Remus, they’re precious!”
“I came over here for the bloody beat down! Not touchy feely lovey-dovey!” 
“I will never understand you. You’re absolutely vile,” 
“Ah, look in the mirror lately?” 
“Excuse me,” Logan growls, diverting their attention from their bickering, “Are you going to help or not?” 
“Ugh,” Remus rolls his eyes, “I guess I’ll go to the clinic.” 
“Goodbye, Remus- you see, he’s a bit of a pain, always been that way,” Roman sticks his tongue out childishly at Remus, who returns the gesture in a more lewd fashion. “Alright, let’s help the emo up,” Roman extends his hands to help: Logan turns away, holding Virgil alone. 
“He is not emo. Virgil is a selective mute,” Logan frowns at Roman. 
“Aha, it’s just a mere quip!” 
“Oh,” Logan swallows. They walk in near silence to the infirmary: How weird it is that the silence with Virgil seems familial and warm but with this Roman it feels charged and uncomfortable. 
“You aren’t a very funny guy, are you?” 
“Excuse me?” Logan glares at him through his glasses, holding Virgil tighter. 
“Take no offense, but I mean… you’re very uptight! Serious. Grumpy. Straight to the point. I’ll stop prattling on synonyms, but I think you get the point now,” Roman explains. 
“I- I’ve never thought about it that way. I presume you’re right,” he frowns. Logan’s never felt like any of those: he just likes working. And now he feels foolish: perhaps that’s the reason that he’s never gotten anywhere socially. Is it his inability to “quip”? 
Would Virgil be happier with him if he could? 
As if he heard his thoughts, Virgil winces in pain in his arms. 
“Oh! Virgil. Should I hold you differently? Are you uncomfortable?” Virgil looks up at Logan blearily: his eyes open in recognition and a full-face blush breaks out all over his face. Virgil takes a bruised hand to hide his face. 
“Awe look at ‘im! Debbie Downer is shy!” Logan whirls over to glare at Roman’s almond eyes angrily. Virgil turns away. 
“Don’t talk to him that way,” he growls. Roman flushes and stammers. 
“It was only teasing!” 
“It was hurtful, and the last thing he needs right now is that. So do me a favor and leave those quips to yourself,” he reprimands. 
“Yes, sir,” Roman salutes. Logan looks away from him and back to Virgil. 
“Hey. Why did those thugs hurt you anyway?” he questions. Virgil frowns. “You don’t have to tell me-” 
“No- I will. I was- I was singing in the bathroom,” he signs shyly. 
“Wait- how could you-” 
“Sometimes I talk when I’m alone. Or sing. I’m nervous around people, when I’m by myself it’s okay,” 
“Oh,” Logan shouldn’t feel so betrayed, he knows he shouldn’t: this is the way Virgil is, after all. He’s a selective mute. He can speak when he wants. And if he doesn’t want to speak around Logan well- it’s fine. It’s his choice. 
It shouldn’t bother Logan. 
“So those jerks beat you up purely for the angelic music of your soul? Their cruelty knows no bounds, if they were to hurt you for communicating with your soulmate! How dare they, those vile, disgusting, cotton headed ninny muggin ruffians!” Roman supplies, filling Logan’s silence with declarations of war. Virgil laughs slightly at Roman, rolling his eyes. Logan swallows his questions, his pleas for “what about me?”. 
Virgil can like whoever he wants. It doesn’t have to be just Logan. 
~~~~
Virgil had asked Logan to drive him to the airport to pick up Patton. Logan wanted to say no, to say that he didn’t want to, hell, just leave him at the airport but… Virgil’s face betrayed his excitement, and Logan couldn’t put him down. 
So now he’s waiting in the pick up zone with his car, waiting for Virgil to come back and completely ignore him again. Logan blinks.
Is that what this is about? 
Does some part of Logan, some illogical part that manipulates his feelings, worry that Patton would mean Logan’s out of the picture? Logan grips the steering wheel. It’s Virgil’s choice! If he wants to hang out with Patton, sure. Sure. It’s fine. 
Logan makes a low growl. 
It’s not fine. 
~~~~
And… there was nothing he could do. He stopped coming to visit Virgil during the mid-semester break: why should he? Virgil was with Patton. He’s happy. He doesn’t need Logan around… 
Logan hates it. He hates not going over each day, each class ending with Virgil’s tiny smile. 
He hates his soulmate, whoever he is, for singing so sadly whenever he wakes up. 
“What's the name of the game? Does it mean anything to you? What's the name of the game? Can you feel it the way I do? Tell me please, 'cause I have to know… I'm a bashful child, beginning to grow…” 
“Shut up,” Logan tells him quietly each time he goes at it again, “Shut up. I don’t want your questions, I can’t answer them.” 
Logan, for the first time in his life, isn’t happy doing his work. There’s no gratification from finishing something: there’s no hunched over man beside him gesturing wildly as he finishes so quickly. There’s no giggle as he presses his glasses higher on his nose: there’s no smack on the shoulder when he corrects his work. It’s so… so bland. Was it always like this? 
Before Virgil, was it always like this? 
Logan finishes his test and hands it in at the front: his professor gives him a confused look. Logan twitches as his soulmate starts to sing: “It's you I like… not the things you wear…” 
“Is everything okay, Mr. Adleman? You seem… listless, lately. Distracted. And you took all of the allotted time to finish your work- quite out of the ordinary, I’d say,” 
“I assure you, sir, everything is normal,” he merely says, before adjusting his bag and exiting the classroom. 
“Not the way you do your hair… but it's you I like,” 
“Shut up,” Logan murmurs under his breath, walking stiffly with his head down down the hall. His soulmate’s voice is beautiful, as beautiful as always… but Logan can’t bear it. He’s already dealing with so much! To hear his soulmate’s longing notes doesn’t help. If anything, it exasperates his issues. Logan is grumbling under his breath when he hears it: and suddenly, all his issues get worse. 
Patton’s in a classroom, with his teacher and a few students, singing to them: 
“The way you are right now… way down deep inside you…” 
“The way you are right now… way down deep inside you…” and his soulmate croons at the same time. 
“Not the things that hurt you, not your toys; they're just beside… you,” 
“Not the things that hurt you, not your toys; they're just beside… you,” 
They both stop at the same note, and Logan swallows. 
Patton. 
Patton, smiley, hazel-eyed, exuberant, talkative, Patton, is his soulmate? Patton, the Patton he’s been mildly despising for the past few days.
 I can’t believe it. But I presume… he has a right to know. And maybe we can make this work? 
“Ah… Patton,” Patton’s face whirls to Logan’s in the door, and his face lights up. Logan can’t help but set his face: aren’t soulmates supposed to elicit some kind of joy in their partners? When they finally figure it out, isn’t it supposed to be some revelation? 
“Logan!! How nice!! I haven’t seen you this whole trip, what a delight! Virgil’s been all out of sorts without you around, it seems,” Patton grins, sliding off the desk he was sitting on and walking over to Logan. 
“I- I think- I think you’re my soulmate,” he stammers. 
“What?” 
“I- I heard your singing, in my head, as you were singing in here-” 
“Oh my god. No, no, Logan,” Patton smiles at Logan tearfully, his hands landing on his shoulders, “That was Virgil. I started singing that song because Virgil was singing it again when I left.” 
“That’s- that’s impossible how-”
“If you need any more proof, then just look at my soulmate: I met him at school, he flew in after me,” Patton smiles dreamily and waves at a man sitting in the corner, typing on his phone: he has two black forearm crutches and deep burn scars  across the left side of his face. 
“Hullo,” he greets from the other side of the room, “I’m Janus. Pleasure, fellow Patton soulmate,” Logan’s mouth dries as Patton giggles. 
“It’s really Virgil. That- that makes a lot of sense but- I can’t believe it-” 
“Okay, how about this, Lo?” Logan’s nose scrunches at the nickname, “I’m going to send a message to Virgil: and you go sneak back to the apartment. He’ll sing. It’ll match up. Then you have to confess. He’s thought he’s been alone… for so long. He’ll be so happy: so thrilled to have a soulmate… even more so if it’s you.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Patton shakes his head, chuckling. Logan looks away: his teary eyes are too much for him. Logan clears his throat. 
“Let our third go, Pat!” Janus calls, his voice smooth. Logan casts him a glare, though he blushes, and walks off. Thousands of thoughts swirl through his head, clouding his vision. He almost loses his way to the dorms. His mind is so full, so so so full, and then a voice breaks through it all. 
“If I could ride a bike, I’d zoom around the world, with you sitting there behind me…” 
Logan’s breath hitches. If that’s Virgil, he hates not seeing it before. Meeting him and not loving him right away. Not beating around the bush. But embracing him with everything he is, using all he knows to help all he needs. 
“I’ll take you to places, past several faces… just livin life so carefree. If I could sail a boat, I'd cruise across the seas, a sweet adventure for us two,” 
His pace increases as he gets to the dorms: he runs up the stairs maybe a little too fast. The music increases in volume but perhaps it’s in his head. The door to Virgil’s room is cracked open. 
“I'll be Jack and you Rose, just please don’t let me go, cause I'll be nothing without you. Oh when you call me… I'm drifting on clouds, like I'm dreaming,” 
Logan’s footsteps falter as he peers through the door. Virgil, with a guitar, singing those notes so sweetly. It matches up in his head, it matches perfectly, and despite himself, Logan starts to er up. It’s perfect harmony, it makes his heart swell and the whole world brightens. 
This is what it’s supposed to be like.  This is my soulmate. Virgil’s voice rises and falls, and it becomes so mind numbingly soft. 
“But in the morning, I'll wake up and see that you're stuck… here with me,” Virgil sings, his voice sad, “If only you knew, what I would do for you. I'd jump up and hold you… so tightly…” Virgil sobs, “Logan. Logan. I’m sorry. Whatever I did. I’m sorry. I miss you.” 
Logan’s chest pulls. His voice is like an angel. Virgil, his soulmate, wants him back. Everything he thought… was wrong. He needs to tell him, he needs to- 
No. No, it would embarrass both of them, and Virgil’s anxious. He needs to do it in a way that would make no room for error, no room for suspicion of any foul intent. 
Logan… needs to sing. 
~~~~ 
It’s all planned out, only a few days later. The sun is out, the weather is warm. Patton has Virgil entertained, introducing him to Janus in the front lawn. Roman and Remus are keeping people away in their respective fashions so that they have privacy. Logan adjusts his tie, getting ready in their apartment. He wants to have the song at it’s apex before meeting him as his soulmate. 
Logan clutches the ring in his pocket: a customary soulmate ring, black and fitted to Virgil’s finger. They haven’t been together, and he doesn’t have to accept it of course but… he wants to do this right.  
This has to be perfect. 
He takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to sing. 
“I'm nothing special, in fact I'm a bit of a bore… If I tell a joke, you've probably heard it before,” Logan sings softly. He chuckles- something so foriegn to him, so averse to what he wanted to do just a week ago- and he doesn’t sound bad. As he sings the next few lines, he runs out to the window by the elevators and can just barely make out Virgil on a picnic blanket rising to his feet and looking around confusedly. Logan carefully walks down the stairs, taking his time as he goes: 
“So I say- thank you for the music, the songs I’m singing. Thank you for all the joy they’re bringing: who can live without it? I asked in all honesty, what would life be- without a song or a dance, what are we? So I say thank you for the music, for giving it… to me,” he sings, breaking out into the fresh air. Logan sings the next few stanzas under his breath, making his way to Virgil’s picnic spot. Virgil’s standing up, shaking Patton’s shoulder and signing wildly. 
“I've been so lucky, I am the girl with golden hair: I wanna sing it out to everybody…. What a joy, what a life, what a chance!” his voice rises as he nears the grass, heart beating wildly. 
Virgil’s fallen to his knees, his crying sounding even from where Logan stands, dozens of feet away. 
“Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing. Thanks for all the joy they're bringing. Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty… What would life be? Without a song or a dance what are we? So I say thank you for the music,” he’s suddenly close, standing at Virgil. Virgil looks up, tears running down his face. He gasps: he smiles: he laughs. “For giving it to me.” 
Virgil stumbles to his feet, and wraps his arms around Logan’s middle. He chuckles, and hugs him back, squeezing him tightly. Virgil cries into his chest, hiccuping and laughing all the same. 
“So I say,” he rubs his back, and presses a light kiss into his hair, “Thank you for the music, for giving it… to me.” 
There’s no fanfare, no wild confetti or cheering. It’s quiet, as Patton and Janus laugh and Virgil tearily accepts his ring before digging back into his chest. It would be perfect like this but then… 
“Logan,” Virgil whispers, hiding in his chest, “Logan.” It’s so quiet, but it makes his heart burst in joy. Virgil didn’t have to say anything, he would love him anyway, but it shows. It shows the trust. 
“Surprise,” he whispers back, pulling him in closer. “Thank you. For everything, Virgil.”
~~~~~
The End! Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed! 
Taglists:
Anything & Everything: @myraiswack, @blindtaleteller, @head-over-heart, @karushinekomiya
Sides of the Sanders: @a-goldengirl-in-a-condominium246 
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nataliedanovelist · 3 years
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GF & MvsM - Wanna Talk About Dinos?
This crossover was inevitable. It just works too well. Maybe one day i’ll write a fic about how the folks at Gravity Falls handled the robot-apocalypse. Probably shrugged it off. “Eh. We’ve had worse.” Haha! What if Stan and Ford, cuz they were out sailing, had no clue what happened and when they came back they were like, “Wait, what?”
For now, please enjoy this fic of Aaron making a new friend...
(credit goes to @stephreynaart for her OC Jacob) ~~~~~~~~~~ “Hi, would you like to talk to me about dinosaurs?”
Aaron asked this question more times than he could keep track of, but that wasn’t going to stop him from asking it. It started as a dare from his big sister two years ago, but now it’s a fun hobby. When fifth grade isn’t overwhelming him, scaring him with mountains of homework and horror stories about how hard middle school is going to be, and when he’s run out of YouTube videos to catch up on, he is on the hunt for fellow giant-lizard-lovers like a hungry Ceratosaurus.
“No, okay bye.” But it did get a little tiring to always cross out names and phone-numbers on the phone book with red ink. Hey, a dinosaur of a way to find phone-numbers was appropriate. He read the next number, dialed it, and after a ring or two he asked, “How would you like to talk with me about dinosaurs? No, okay thank you.”
Aaron crossed out another name and sighed, taking a break since he reached the end of a line of numbers. Maybe he should just be grateful for Abbey and accept that no one else wants to talk about the Jurassic Period. Or the Cretaceous Period. Or the Triassic Period. But then a big, old, gray-tinted ad distracted him. He grinned, thinking it would at least be fun to give them a call, and he dialed the number.
Private home phone-numbers were fun, but businesses were also fun! Poor, bored workers would gladly talk to him rather than crabby Karens, and they got paid for it! So Aaron smiled as the phone rang, and he grinned when someone picked up.
“Thanks for calling the Mystery Shack, you’re talking to Mr. Mystery himself! How may I befuddle or bewilder you?”
“Hi! How would you like to talk with me about dinosaurs?”
“Oh, dude! I’d love to, but I’m scheduled for a tour of the Oddity Museum in three minutes.” The man said, and Aaron grinned continuously, because it sounded like Mr. Mystery really wanted to talk with him about dinosaurs. “But hey! Can you hold on for one minute, I think I know a guy!”
“Yeah, sure mister!” And Aaron was greeted by the sound of a catchy jingle about buying t-shirts and mugs and snowglobes. He smiled and wiggled his feet along to the music as he looked outside at the beautiful late-fall afternoon, entertained while he waited.
~~~~~~~~~~
Soos was on the hunt. He planned out the house in his head. Abuelita was taking a nap upstairs, Melody was organizing the upcoming tour, and Stan took Jacob out for ice cream, so he might be…
The owner of the Shack grinned when he stopped at the doorway and saw the man he was looking for, sitting in Stan’s chair, reading a book.
“Uncle Ford!”
The old sailor smiled up at the young man. “Yes, wh-...”
“Do you think you could answer the phone for me? I have a tour and I think this customer’s request is right up your alley.”
“Uh… sure, but w-...”
“Thanks, you’re the best!” And Soos was gone before he could address Ford’s confusion.
Ford was a bit lost, having little to no business with business, but he had learned at this point to trust Soos, so he picked up the phone beside him and was immediately greeted with a sweet, “How would you like to talk with me about dinosaurs?”
Ford grinned and closed his book. “I would love to! All three periods are equally as fascinating to study, but the Triassic contains some of my favorite dinosaurs!”
A young voice gasped on the other line. “Mine, too! Everyone thinks the Jurassic period is so great, and it’s pretty cool, but the Triassic gave us Plateosaurus and the Brachiosaurus!”
“That’s very true! You know, it’s very interesting, maybe depictions don’t include feathers at all, which is a bit frustrating, but perhaps after the news has spread they will incorporate more feathers on merchandise and textbooks.”
“YES! That’s what I wanna do when I grow up, help draw better-accurate dinosaurs!”
~~~~~~~~~~
The phone rang on Sunday. The Shack was closed today, so Stan lazily answered it and was greeted with, “Wanna talk about dinosaurs?”
“Sixer, phone for you!”
Ford ran into the living room, elbowed his twin out of the chair, and took the phone. “Hello again, Aaron! Now, where were we? Right, so Australopithecus. … No, I don’t think… Oh! No, homo habilis was erect, Australopithecus was never fully erect.”
“Maybe he was nervous.” Stan groaned, getting to his feet.
Ford shot him a look as thankfully the young boy on the other end didn’t catch that and happily shared some more fun-facts about homo habilis.
~~~~~~~~~~
While most college students were excited for Spring Break so they could get drunk or lose their virginity, Katie was excited because her family had planned a special secret roadtrip. She was careful to keep up with her family and talk to her parents and brother frequently, but Aaron had a hobby he wasn’t talking about that his parents found out and were thrilled about. Aaron had made another friend.
Rick and Katie did some research and the tourist attraction sounded right up their alley! In the middle of the woods, tons of weird stuff, and a fun roadtrip filled with diners and attractions. They decided to surprise Aaron, and they made up a lie that they would spend Spring Break in California with Katie so she could show her family around San Francisco, when in actuality they would be traveling up the state to the Redwood Highway and see the oddity place, and maybe even allow Aaron to meet his new pen-pal. Or, um, phone-pal.
So after bombarding Katie with hugs the Mitchells threw her luggage into the car and drove off. Aaron turned to Katie and excitingly asked, “So where are we going first? Can we go fix the Golden Gate bridge by painting it gold?”
Katie laughed and ruffled his hair. “Maybe later, right now I wanna show you guys this fun store right outside of town. Here, check out the videos I made for my classes!” And she pulled out some airpods and gave one to Aaron.
“Cool!”
Rick and Linda smirked at each other as they drove north. By the time they reached a little diner in Redding, CA, it was very clear to Aaron that they weren’t in San Francisco anymore. “Come on, just tell me where we’re going!” The boy begged as he fed Monchi a fry.
“The best kind of prizes are the surprises.” Linda quoted.
“Eric, Deborahbot5000, where are we going?”
“Sorry, Aaron, we cannot give that information.” Eric said, he and the other robot sitting politely in their seats, happy to be a part of the social interaction.
“Yes, Mother will bury us if we disobey.” Deborahbot said matter-of-factly.
“What?! No I won’t, sweeties.”
“Won’t you ground us?”
The family laughed and Aaron let the topic go; if he was honest, he loved a good surprise. The big family stopped in a motel just at the California-Oregon border, and the next morning after muffins and coffee and orange juice they were on the road again, passing dozens of trees that made Rick feel at home. Katie happily recorded the trip, trusted to be the documenter for another fun roadtrip, with hopefully not as much mortal peril.
Aaron watched as they left the highway for a simple road, and they passed a big sign. The boy gasped and caught what was happening. “No WAY! Really?!”
“You know, I hear this Mystery Shack even has a Sasquatch.” Rick commented while Linda pulled out a pamphlet from the glove box.
“It says here it’s full of odd things you’ll never see anywhere else, even a dinosaur footprint…”
“Wasn’t there a rumor of there being a Bottomless Pit?” Katie asked, pointing her camera at Aaron to get his reaction.
“Thank you thank you THANK YOU!!!” Aaron cheered, hugging his Dad’s neck and kissing his Mom’s cheek.
“Hey, no worries, buddy.” Rick eased, fixing his shewed glasses. “We wanted to see this place, too!”
“Why don’t we eat a quick lunch and then we’ll take the backroad for the attraction? There’s a coupon in here for a diner made from a giant log!”
And so after being served by a pretty blonde teenager at Greasy’s, they drove through town to get to the backroad. Signs made them confident that they were going the correct way, as well as Eric and Deborahbot5000’s GPS. Then as they turned a corner, a big triangle-shaped building came into view. Aaron grinned at the giant sign with a missing letter. People were already leaving, arms full of souvenirs and one or two already wearing their new hats or t-shirts. Once Rick parked in the Free Parking Lot, Aaron spilled out of the car and ran for the shack, but he stopped.
Katie caught up to him and patted his back. “You cool, man?”
Aaron shrugged, holding his hands in front of him and his shoulders up to hide his face a bit. “I-I dunno… What if… What if he doesn’t like me?”
“Hey, I get it.” Katie admitted. “When I first met my friends I was really nervous. I had talked to them online for weeks and I was worried it wasn’t gonna be what it was all cracked up to be, but it was. Your system worked! You found another dino-lover! You earned this moment. Just take in a deep breath and be yourself, cuz you’re a pretty cool dude.”
Aaron smiled up at his big sister. “Thanks.”
Trusting Eric and Deborahbot5000 to watch Monchi and make sure he used the bathroom, the Mitchells went inside the shack. On the porch there was an ice cooler, a sign reading schedule times for tours of the Oddity Museum, a Help Wanted sign, and two rocking chairs with a game of checkers between them.
Inside the store a few customers filled up the gift shop, alongside t-shirts, snowglobes, a vending machine, a door beside ti that read Employees Only, a bookshelf full of comic on one side and old newspapers claiming alien sightings on the other, a fish tank holding a monkey-mermaid, and barrels full of spaceship keychains and dino claws. A new section called Camping Stuff caught Rick’s eye, selling backpacks, lanterns, flashlights, batteries, canteens, and compasses. Katie opened a comic called Lil’Stanley and laughed at the swears, taking a pic and sending it to her friends’ group chat. Linda looked into the barrel full of patches and grinned at all the fun designs, while Aaron stared happily at the mer-monkey.
The Employees Only door opened and closed and Rick watched as a man in a suit, fez, and eyepatch walked up to the lady at the register and kissed her cheek. The woman smiled lovingly and left while the guy who resembled a gopher checked a customer out. Rick waited until the buyer left to approach the register, leaning an arm on the counter.
“Welcome to the Mystery Shack, dude!”
“Thanks! So, this is gonna sound weird, but my son Aaron talks to a guy here about dinosaurs…”
“No way!” The owner interrupted excitedly. “Good to see you, dudes! I’m Mr. Mystery! Wow, you guys came a long way, huh?”
“Nah, only from California. My daughter is attending art school there.”
While the men chit-chatted and Linda joined them, Katie noticed a guy walking up to Aaron and looking at the mer-monkey. She smiled and tried to read the comic without being too nosy, but she kept her senses on her brother.
“Hm, quite fascinating, isn’t it?” The man in the blue hoodie said. “But I think my favorite is the fossilized footprint. Could be Nanuqsaurus hoglundi.”
“The Polar Bear Lizard?” Aaron clarified, touching his chin as he looked at the dino-print, his back to the man he was talking to. “Maybe, but they’re from Alaska. It’s possible plate tectonics did cause some fossils to be relocated here, but it could also be a Nanotyrannosaurus lancensis footprint.”
“The Dwarf Tyrant? Could very well be. Would you like to talk about dinosaurs after your tour?”
Aaron’s eyes widened as the voice was finally familiar to him. He turned and looked up to find an old man smiling up at him. He had fluffy gray hair with a white stripe running around his scalp, wrinkles by his eyes due to smiling, a cleft chin, glasses, and wore a blue hoodie with a maroon sweater underneath. His hands were behind his back and he smiled down at Aaron warmly, while the boy was jittery and overly-excited. He took in a sharp breath and had to fight every muscle to keep from leaping through the screen door. 
“H-H-Hi…” He peeped. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Y-Yeah, sure! I’d love to! I’m Aaron! Er, wait, you already knew that.” And he held out a hand to shake.
His phone-pal, Ford, chuckled and got on one knee to be eye-level. “Greeting, Aaron! It’s nice to formally meet you.”
Aaron shook his hand and noticed something. He had six fingers on his right hand. A quick glance told Aaron he also had six fingers on his left hand. Aaron grinned with sparkling eyes at his new friend, while the old sailor smiled warmly at the boy that reminds him of his niece and nephew when they were young.
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