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leoramage · 8 months

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competition + part one

⊹ masterlist ⊹ taglist ⊹

⊹⊱ trigger warning - [being shady af, slandering, tune in for plot twist!]

⊹⊱ theme - [social media au]

⊹⊱ pairings - [ex!mick schumacher x thai beauty queen!y/n x ?]

⊹⊱ face claim - anntonia porsild

⊹⊱ keywords - [rumours. "i promise that you'll never find another like me." emotional scars trope. "you're talking shit for the hell of it." girl fight. "anything you can do, i do better." bitterness and envy. "who do you think you are? are you better than me - no."]

INSTAGRAM

mickschumacher posted a story and a photo

liked by pierregasly, estebanocon and others

mickschumacher 🤍

truemickfan Wait, did I miss a whole season? Mick and Y/N were just together during Miami Grand Prix, and how's he's all cozy with someone new? 😳

estebanocon 😍😍

⊳ racedaydreamer estie bestie, explain what happened to my parents! 😭

⊳ speeddemonette I AM DISAPPOINTED BARFING, CRYING, HAVING SEIZURES RIGHT NOW!

mickfanatic Is it just me or does anyone else feel like Mick moved on way too quickly? Y/N is not just a casual fling!

micksupporter YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH Y/N WAS ALMOST 4 YEARS MICK! 😭 4 YEARS!

gridgirlgossip Goodbye, I am sending you my therapy bills.

cornercruiser #downgradeofthecentury

NEWS FEED

TWITTER

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The night was alive with the glow of twinkling stars, casting their silvery light over the event you had just finished hosting the glamorous charity event, Your radiant smile never left your face as you effortlessly guided the evening. The applause echoed through the grand hall, and for a moment, you felt like the world was yours as you were dressed in elegance and grace, embodying beauty and poise like no other, leaving behind a trail of flashing cameras and clinking glasses. But as you retreated backstage, reality caught up with you.

Your phone buzzed insistently in your hand, a notification lighting up the screen. You anticipated it to be a congratulatory message, a reminder of your brilliance on stage. Instead, it was a photo that sent shards of pain through your heart.

Mick.

There he was, smiling broadly, his lips on her cheek and an arm wrapped around a woman – you realized who she was – the Instagram model whose presence had been splashed across tabloids and gossip sites recently but whose ingenue beauty was unmistakable.

Your heart sank as you realized the truth: he had moved on like you and him never happened.

3 years of being with him – going 4 years – all thrown aside like a trash.

You were with him, in his ups and downs.

You were there when he lost his F1 seat.

You were there when he questioned his ability...

His talent...

His whole being...

And the pressure of him being the racing prodigy after his father.

You were there when Mercedes took him in and welcomed him as a reserve driver. You celebrated late at night and cuddled by the flame drinking beers while Coldplay plays on the background. It feels like home to be with him but...

Where could have you possibly lacked that he found another one so easily within two months?

Were you that ugly?

Were you that unworthy?

Were you that replaceable?

Were you not enough?

The tears welled up before you could stop them, blurring your vision as you crumbled into a chair. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the deafening silence of your pain echoing in your ears. A whirlwind of emotions swirled within you – hurt, confusion, and an undeniable sense of loss.

He said that he won't break your heart, let alone shed tears because of him. Yet here you are, a sobbing mess because he found a replacement 2 months fresh after your break up.

You hated him. No... You loathed yourself that you've ended up this way with your heart and soul. Yet a part of you feels guilty and loves him despite letting you burn yourself in the process. He said he'll protect you but...

He had set fire and left you alone - sacrificed yourself for your ever-unsalvageable relationship.

It simply costs you. Your being.

You lost yourself so that he could find himself.

You didn't know what happened. One day he wasn't the Mick you knew.

He changed that was all.

It felt like a betrayal, a stark reminder that he had moved on while you were still grappling with the aftermath of your breakup. The break had been raw, an ache that had haunted you since the day you parted ways. Two months had passed, yet the wound was far from healed. The emotions you had been pouring up for weeks seemed to return like an overflooded river, and the dam you had so carefully constructed - every week you put on a brave smile and face the world - finally crumbled once again.

You completely lost him.

Amid the tears and the sobs, you allowed to release the anguish that was held back. It was as if the universe had given you permission to feel, to mourn, and to heal.

You clung to your friends, letting their unwavering support become your lifeline, traversing the caverns of your own heart. Your friends rushed to your side, their faces filled with concern.

And a new familair guy was there too, like a true friend. He knelt in front of you, his big copper eyes locking onto yours. "Y/N," he whispered, "I'm so sorry... You don't deserve this." The sobs wracked your body as you buried your face in your hands before he pulled you into an embrace that lulled your lamenting and already ravaged heart. But the pain was too raw. It was misery that had been festering for two long months, a pain you had hidden behind your dazzling smile.

You thought you were fine, that you were strong enough to handle seeing Mick with someone new. But in that moment, all your strength crumbled. It felt like your heart had been ripped out and stomped on.

His hand grazed your back with your face buried in his chest, his voice was low but soft but filled with empathy. "He doesn't deserve you, Y/N." His accent was thick upon whispering in your ear, feeling bad that you had to go through this.

As you cried, you realized that the pain wasn't just about Mick. It was about the weight of expectations, the pressure to always appear strong, and the fear of being alone. It was about the depression that had been silently eating away at you.

You had been wearing a mask for so long, pretending to be okay when you weren't. It manifested from you losing weight, skipping meals and even your sleeping schedule had been hell. And now, in this moment of vulnerability, you felt like you were breaking free from that suffocating facade.

He whispered soothing words, reminding you that you were loved and that your worth wasn't defined by a relationship.

As the tears continued to flow, you realized that healing would take time. But for the first time in months, you felt like you were ready to take on the path to recovery. The pain was real and there was nothing for you to do but it shouldn't be stopping you.

You promised that you would be stronger than you had ever known.

TWITTER

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Morning aftermath...

As the morning sun filtered through your window, you found yourself still wrapped in the cocoon of sleep, the weight of last night's breakdown lingering like a heavy fog. But as your phone began to buzz with notifications, reality swiftly came crashing back. Friends had texted you, their words a mix of concern and reassurance.

"Hey, just wanted to let you know that there's a tweet going around. We're here for you, always." — F/N1

"Some fan or paparazzi sent a picture of you crying backstage last night to a Twitter account. They're all with you. We are always here for you, Y/N." — F/N2

You sighed, sitting up and staring at your phone. It didn't take long to locate the tweet they were referring to – a photo of you, vulnerable and raw, with your friends surrounding you to comfort you. The tweet had gained traction overnight, becoming a symbol of empathy and support from fans all over...

As you scrolled through the replies, you were taken aback by the outpouring of compassion. Fans of both Mick and yours had come together, expressing their concern and sending well wishes. The sight of your shared pain resonated with many, they felt upset for you over a single Instagram post of Mick that drew out all the vitality in you last night.

With a sigh, you knew you couldn't remain in bed all day, wallowing in the events of the past night. You were stronger than that, and you owed it to yourself and your supporters to show them that you were okay. Taking a deep breath, you decided to update your fans through an Instagram story.

You snapped a picture of yourself, the gentle sunlight casting a warm glow on everything it touched. Typing out a caption, you chose your words carefully.

With a sense of purpose, you tapped the post button. It was a small gesture, but it felt like a step forward. The response was immediate – an influx of messages, hearts, and encouraging words flooded your inbox. Each notification felt like a virtual hug, a reminder that you were not alone on this journey.

INSTAGRAM

yourusername posted a story • 4 mins ago

seen by carlossainz55, lewishamilton and 962,820 others.

Later that day...

As the sun began its slow descent, you found yourself deep in thought, your mind weaving through possibilities and aspirations. The idea had taken root within you, a flicker of determination that refused to be extinguished. You wanted to show the world that you were more than just a single pageant title or relationship and that your journey was far from over.

The world felt a little brighter, and the weight on your shoulders felt a little lighter.

With a sense of purpose, you reached for your phone, your fingers dancing over the keys as you composed a message to your pageant coach, RL Duangkong. Your journey to a bigger goal is just about to start.

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Author's Note: THIS POST HAD BEEN UPLOADED WAY TO SEVERAL TIMES THAT I ALMOST LOST PATIENCE. The effort I poured onto this fic is ungodly. Which is why I appreciate smau!writers out there. I was having an internal monologue on how the lines would be distributed properly. I honestly loved making this - it is such a challenge and a struggle to be fair. Please do not repost or take the edited pictures without my consent. Some media in this post are mine and it's hard to do photoshopping/photo manipulation. Any kind of support is appreciated as I continue writing as long as I keep dreaming. Until then, stay updated for part 2! 𔘓ฅ[⁠ᓀ⁠˵⁠▾⁠˵⁠ᓂ⁠]𔘓ฅ

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created by the user in response to a creative writing prompt. Any resemblance to actual events, persons, or entities, whether living or deceased, is purely coincidental. The characters, events, and dialogue portrayed in this fanfiction are products of the user's imagination and are not meant to infringe upon any copyrights or trademarks associated with the Formula One sport or any real-life individuals. This fanfiction is solely intended for entertainment purposes, and the author acknowledges that the depicted scenarios are not endorsed, authorized, or supported by any official Formula One entities or the individuals mentioned.

#Spotify #formula one #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher au #mick schumacher smau #mick schumacher x you #mic schumacher fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula one instagram au

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sweetestofchaos · 7 months

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➵ Parings: Teacher!Jungkook x OC!Netta ➵ Genre/Trope: Fluff, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Co-Worker AU, Teacher AU ➵ Rating: 18+ ➵ Summary: The new English teacher has a big fat crush on the PE teacher Jeon Jungkook and everyone know about it...including Jungkook, himself. ➵ Word Count: 6.1k ➵ Warnings: Kissing, Thigh Riding, Ass Smacking, Food Play, Oral (fem receiving), Fingering, Mentions of Periods

𝘮.𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 ▵ 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 ▵ 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

a/n: 10 months later and I’m finished!! I have to thank @dawnagustd and @vvh0adie for helping me ease into the smut from when I first started writing this bad boy. I was starting at the screen for hours just looking dumb. Thank you @hobeemin for being my beta, your comments made me giggle!! Banner made by the wonderful @floralkive. MDNI/Support divider made by @benkeibear

It was a known fact that Little Flower Academy was one of the few elementary schools that didn’t have a dating ban for its employees. The headmaster wasn’t stupid; he knew that if you worked around people for days at a time, crushes and even love were bound to happen. Netta was the kind of woman who never mixed business with pleasure, but when Jeon Jungkook came into her world, that idea was washed away like the chalk lines at recess. Netta had a huge crush on Mr. Jeon, the cute Health and PE teacher. She wasn’t sure what it was about the man that made her heart pound so harshly. With just a single glance or if he smiled, Netta swore there were yellow jackets in her stomach, or maybe it was just pizza sticks she ate from the cafeteria.

The first time Jungkook spoke to Netta, she couldn’t stop staring at the mole on the bridge of his nose; it was cute. She was so lost just staring at it that she completely missed the question that had been asked. It wasn’t until Jungkook laughed and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck that Netta snapped out of whatever trance she had been in. She apologized for zoning out, and Jungkook shook his head, his dark hair flying around his ears before he repeated his question. He wanted to know how she liked the school, and if she had any issues, she was more than welcome to come to him. Issues? There was only one that Netta could think of, and it was standing in front of her.

The two quickly became the topic around the water cooler of the academy. Teachers and parents alike all whispered about how good they looked together, the dream team they were called to their faces, and behind their backs, they were the perfect couple. Netta heard the rumors and wasn’t sure if Jungkook had too. If he had, he never let on about it. Jungkook was kind and very funny in the weirdest of ways. He was a giant nerd, to be honest, and Netta was thankful that she could see that side of him as his friend. That’s how she ended up here, now. All alone in Jungkook’s home, helping him grade papers while eating Thai take away on a Friday night.

Jungkook has his bluetooth speaker playing music at a lower volume, sitting on the couch with papers spread out all around him. Netta is sitting on top of a pillow on the floor with her legs folded underneath her, twirling a set of red chopsticks between her fingers. She glances at Jungkook when he sighs and pushes his hair from his face for the nth time that night. Jeez, can he look any hotter? A familiar beat catches Netta’s ear, and she bites her lip as Jamie Fox’s voice fills the air.

You know what, I'm ma make it do what it do baby,

I'm ma make it do what it do baby

Netta drops her chopsticks, and they fall to the floor, making Jungkook look away from the papers in front of him. “You good?”

“Huh?” Netta stares at Jungkook and tries to ignore the sexual words spilling from the speakers. Does Jungkook not hear what’s playing? “Y-yeah, I’m good. Just…yeah.” Netta turns her attention to the papers in front of her and squints at the black text. What does this even mean? It’s like she’s reading a different language all of a sudden.

“How many papers have you gone through?” Jungkook’s voice cuts through Netta’s foggy mind, and she can feel heat warm her face. Honestly? She hasn’t graded much; it’s kind of hard to focus when Jungkook’s scent is all around her; plus, the oversized smokey green denim shirt isn’t doing anything for her well being either. How can he wear something so simple and look so hot? It’s not even fair at this point in life. “Net?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side, and Netta quickly pulls herself together, ducking her head down as she bites her lower lip.

“I didn’t get much done.” Netta sees the frown pulling at Jungkook’s lips and swallows. “S-sorry Kookie.” Her voice is soft as she spots the chopsticks on the floor by her leg. “I-I need new chopsticks!” Netta jumps to her feet, and Jungkook’s jaw clenches.

“Sit down, Ms. Robbins!”

One second, Netta is standing, and the next, she is sitting on the edge of the love seat, the fallen chopsticks clutched tightly in her fist, staring at Jungkook with wide eyes. Jungkook sighs and takes his reading glasses off, setting them on the table before he sits up and runs his hand through his hair…five times, not that Netta is counting or anything. Jungkook tucks his hair behind his ears and inhales with a smack of his lips. He stares at the unmarked papers on the table before he turns his gaze to Netta, who refuses to meet his eyes.

Jungkook’s lips press into a line as his eyes flicker up to the ceiling, licking his lips as he tries to gather his thoughts together. He sniffles once and runs a hand through his hair once again, his bangs falling right back in place, framing his face. Netta risks a glance Jungkook’s way, and her breath catches in her throat as their eyes meet. Jungkook raises an eyebrow and presses his tongue against his cheek while Netta looks away.

“Netta?” Jungkook calls her name softly, speaking just above a whisper as if anything louder would spook her.

“Y-yes?” Netta squeaks out, and she clears her throat. “Yes?”

Those rumors about Netta having a crush on him may be true after all. Keeping that thought in mind, Jungkook nods his head and sighs. Jungkook smiles, his lip ring catching the light and forcing Netta to focus on his lips. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Huh? Tell you…what?” Netta fiddles with the bracelet on her wrist and starts to bounce her left leg as she tries to figure out Jungkook’s question.

He cracks a sly smile, “The rumors are true, huh?” He swipes through his hair once more, shaking his locks before he sits back in his chair. Netta has no thoughts, his arms are folded, and his legs spread. Her mind is empty as she stares at Jungkook’s massive thighs. Were they always so thick and inviting? Netta’s thighs press together subconsciously, and she shifts in her seat. Seeing her movement, Jungkook strikes. He uncrosses his arms and holds his hand out to Netta. “Come here, Netta.” Jungkook’s voice is magnetic, pulling Netta from her seat to stand between his legs.

Jungkook tilts his head back to get a better look at Netta’s face, “What’s going through that pretty head of yours, Ms. Robbins?” Jungkook slowly raises his arm and places a hand on Netta’s waist, keeping his eyes locked on her face. He doesn’t want to miss any signs of discomfort. “Humm?” Jungkook’s thumb slips under the hem of Netta’s shirt, and he forces himself not to look away from her face even though he wants to see the goosebumps that he feels on her bare skin. Wrapping his other hand around Netta’s wrist, Jungkook pulls her closer, and reaches out, her arms caging Jungkook on either side of the couch as she stops herself from falling on top of him.

“J-Jungkook!” Netta gasps, and Jungkook’s smile is wicked as he gazes at her.

“I’m not reading the room wrong, am I?” Jungkook questions as the rest of his hand slips underneath Netta’s shirt.

Netta opens her mouth, and no sound comes out. She bites her lip and closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of Jungkook’s warm palm pressed against her side so softly. His hands are large, so very large, and his fingertips are calloused. Netta lets herself wonder how they would feel against more of her skin. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, Netta gathers whatever resolve she has and lowers herself onto Jungkook’s lap, her knees on either side of his left thigh.

Jungkook mutters something under his breath, and before Netta can question him, Jungkook cups the back of Netta’s neck and pulls her into a feverish kiss. Their lips mold together, their tongues taste each other, and Netta’s full weight falls into Jungkook’s lap, her legs refusing to support her any longer. Jungkook groans into the kiss, feeling the pleasurable weight settle sweetly on his upper thigh. The heat from between Netta’s legs seeps into the fabric of his jeans, and Jungkook squeezes Netta’s hip tightly. His lungs burn, but he fights the urge to breathe; he doesn’t want to part from such sweet lips. Jungkook never knew that peanut pad thai was so delicious.

Netta slides her hands from the back of the couch and tangles her fingers into Jungkook’s hair. The strands are silky soft, and when she accidentally tugs, Jungkook moans into her mouth. Netta pulls away from the kiss, a thin strand of saliva connects their lips, and she pushes at Jungkook’s chest as he chases her lips.

“W-Wait…Jungk-kook.”

Jungkook hums and licks his lips as he inhales deeply. His heart is beating rapidly under Netta’s fingers as the rise and fall of his chest starts to slow. Jungkook’s eyes are wide and alert as he stares at Netta concerned. He cups her cheek in his hand and swipes the spit from her bottom with the pad of his thumb.

“Are you okay? D-Do you want to stop?”

“God, no!” Netta shakes her head, and Jungkook smiles, all bunny teeth and scrunched up nose.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook whispers as he bumps his nose against Netta’s, trying to kiss her lips again.

Netta firmly pushes at Jungkook’s chest and puts space between their bodies, “I don’t want to do this on your couch…we could ruin the paperwork.”

Jungkook glances over Netta’s shoulder at the piles of ungraded tests and the rainbow of markers scattered on the table and floor. Jungkook’s tongue darts out to play with his lip ring as he thinks over Netta’s words. His hands slowly trail to Netta’s buttocks, and his fingers tap out a random beat that matches the current song playing from the speakers.

“My bedroom is a mess,” Jungkook pouts, and Netta giggles as she plays with the necklace hanging at Jungkook’s throat.

“Jungkook, we work with a bunch of children. I doubt your room is any worse than theirs.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes and gives Netta’s butt a firm slap, making her yelp and jump in surprise.

“I don’t think I like your tone, Ms. Robbins.” Jungkook leans forward and nips at Netta’s jaw before he licks up the length of her neck to her ear. “Are you a messy girl? Is that why you won’t mind my room? Just gonna make it messier for me, yeah?”

Jungkook’s words go right to Netta’s core and settle so deep that she can feel her walls clench around nothing. Empty. She suddenly is so self-aware of how long it has been since she last had sex with someone. Netta bites her lower lip, and a shiver crawls down her spine as Jungkook ghosts a gentle path of kisses from her ear to the corner of her lips.

“No, no, Ms. Robbins,” Jungkook easily pulls Netta’s bottom lip from between her teeth and soothes the tender flesh with his own lips. He licks at the bitten skin and sucks Netta’s lip into his mouth, his hands pressing firmly against Netta’s butt and she moans. Her hips start to move on their own, back and forth, over the meaty length of Jungkook’s thigh. Jungkook breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against hers, “That’s it, make a mess for me. I can’t wait to clean it all up.” Jungkook’s tongue is sinful as he licks back into Netta’s mouth. He leaves no space unexplored and slides his hands around a little to sink his fingers into the sides of Netta’s upper thighs.

Jungkook pulls Netta down more onto his thigh, and he flexes, giving her something harder to grind against. A broken moan slips past Netta’s lips, and Jungkook swallows it whole, devours every sound that continues to spill from such sweet lips. Everything feels too hot; Netta’s nerve endings are on fire, and the coil in her stomach is wound too tight. Her panties are wet, embarrassingly so. So wet that Netta knows she has soaked through the fabric of her yellow jeans. She wonders if she has soaked Jungkook’s jeans as well. The blood rushing behind her ears becomes louder than her thoughts; all she can do is feel.

There is a damp patch of skin that Jungkook keeps nipping and licking at; it’s right below her ear, and it’s driving her wild. Jungkook’s body is warm, firm, and strong under her hands. She wants to touch more than just his hands and face. Netta pants, her head lolls backward, and her eyes screwed shut as a warm wave of pleasure washes over her body. She whines, and Jungkook curses under his breath; he can feel the pulse from between Netta’s legs. He can see the wet mark she had made on his jeans and wants more. Jungkook grabs the back of Netta’s neck, mindful of the passion, twists in the way, and crashes their lips together.

“In my room, on my bed, now!” Jungkook pushes Netta away from him, and she scrambles to her feet, her legs wobbly and weak from her first orgasm of the night. “Second door on the left,” Jungkook informs Netta as he stares down at the wet patch on his thigh. He can see that Netta hasn’t moved, and he picks his head up with a raised eyebrow.

“What-” Netta wraps her arms around herself and shifts her weight from foot to foot.

Jungkook slowly stands from the couch and cups Netta’s face once more. He runs his thumb over the seam of her lips and tugs the bottom lightly, “What’s holding you back? We can stop if you would like.”

Netta looks down at her sock clad feet, and Jungkook gently grabs her chin between his thumb and index finger before he tilts Netta’s face upward.

“What is going through that mind of yours?”

Netta’s eyes well with tears, and her lower lip starts to quiver. Jungkook’s eyes widen, and he pulls Netta into a tight embrace as he wraps his arms around her.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay.” Jungkook smushes his cheek to the top of Netta’s head and rubs her back. “We don’t have to do anything; you don’t want to do Netta. We can even pretend that it never happened!”

“I-I’m s-sorry,” Netta cries into Jungkook’s shirt and shakes his head.

“What are you - no! You have nothing, and I mean nothing, to apologize for, Netta. Do you hear me?” Jungkook pulls away and bends a little at the knee to get a better look at Netta’s face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you-”

“No! I-I liked it…I-I wanted it.” Netta fists Jungkook’s shirt in her hands, and Jungkook just stares. Why is Netta crying if he didn’t read the room wrong? “We work together, Jungkook.”

“Yes…is that a problem?”

Netta pulls away from Jungkook and wipes at her face, embarrassed to be seen crying like this after she just ruined his jeans.

“I can’t sleep with you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook licks his lips, and his tongue goes right to his lip ring, “Because we work together?” Jungkook questions slowly and carefully as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Netta nods her head and links her fingers together as she speaks, “I just don’t want to make it awkward at work or anything…you know?”

Jungkook inhales and nods his head. Yeah. Okay. He can understand where Netta is coming from. Their work place was full of gossip, and he can understand why that would be off putting.

“I understand, Netta. I guess I misread the room, huh?”

Netta shakes her head, and Jungkook frowns, “I really do like you, Jungkook,” Netta admits, and her face heats up. “I just can’t do a one night stand with a coworker.”

Jungkook repeats Netta’s words, “A one night stand?” Netta looks up and sees the amusement in Jungkook’s eyes. “I don’t think I was clear with my intentions, but that’s my own fault for doing things out of order.”

“What?”

Jungkook pulls his hands from his pockets and grabs Netta’s hands gently between his. “I would like to date you, Ms. Robbins.”

Netta stares at Jungkook, face lost and adorable, making Jungkook giggle as he bops her nose with his finger.

“May I do that, Netta? Can I take you out? On a real date, officially?”

“Officially?” Netta parrots, and Jungkook motions towards the take away boxes. Netta quirks an eyebrow, and Jungkook’s ears heat up. “This was a date?”

“I-I had more planned!” Jungkook defends, and Netta laughs with a shake of her head.

“An official date would be lovely, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook’s whole face lights up, and he surges forward, capturing Netta’s lips with his own. The kiss is light and sweet, a clear way to show his true feelings. Netta rests her hands on Jungkook’s chest, and he nibbles at her lower lip, making Netta whine against his mouth.

“I have a spare bedroom…you can spend the night.” Jungkook whispers, and Netta sighs softly. “It has a lock that I don’t have the key to if that makes you feel better.”

Netta giggles and pecks Jungkook’s lips three times before she pulls away, “What would I sleep in?”

“I’m sure we could find something.”

“And if we don’t?”

Jungkook grins and snakes his arms around Netta’s waist, his hand resting low on the small of her back. “The sheets are really soft, perfect to sleep nude.”

Things at work are interesting. Netta and Jungkook are seen carpooling to work often, and they sit next to each other in the break room with their lunches. The Art teacher, Taehyung, is sure that the two of them are dating, while Seokjin, the Headmaster, is certain that they are in the beginning stages of a relationship. He likes to point out that Jungkook is more reserved around Netta; he isn’t touching her or making slick comments. He is very respectful, and Netta is the one that usually touches his hand. Hoseok, the Math teacher, doesn’t really care. He’s just happy that Jungkook has finally stopped talking his ear off about the new English teacher.

Netta sits with Jimin, who teaches Social Studies, and Yoongi, the Science teacher. Everyone, students, teachers, and parents are gathered outside for the teachers versus students kickball game. Namjoon, another PE teacher, is the referee for the match, and Netta giggles along with Jimin as all the moms drool over him. The teams are mixed with different grades from kindergarten to fifth, and the teachers were well rounded. Jungkook, Namjoon, and a handful of other teachers are together on a team and wear matching white mesh tops over their blue t-shirts. The kids wear yellow mesh tops over their shirts, and the school provided them with new cleats so that no one gets injured while playing.

Taehyung and Seokjin are the announcers for the game, and they are dressed for the part, both wearing black slacks with button up shirts and colorful ties. Taehyung has a yellow beret to match the children, and Seokjin, a white one to stand with the teachers. As the last of the parents and staff fill the bleachers, Seokjin announces the teams and Netta smiles. This is going to be a great game. Plus, Jungkook is looking right in those black sweatpants.

“You’re drooling,” Jimin teases as he nudges Netta with his elbow, and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“Leave her alone, Min. You know she’s down bad for Jeon.”

“S-Shut up!” Netta whines as she clicks her tongue and pulls the hair band from her wrist. Keeping her eyes on the game, Netta pulls her twists into a low ponytail and folds her hand in her lap. “I’m watching everyone.”

“Sure you are,” Jimin giggles and links his arm with Netta’s. “So, when is loverboy taking you out on a date?”

“I never said anything-”

“I overheard Jungkook asking Namjoon.”

Netta rolls her eyes and sighs, “We’re supposed to go out later tonight.”

“Where’s he taking you?”

“Why do you want to know?” Yoongi cuts in, and Jimin glares at him from the other side of Netta. “Their love life has nothing to do with any of us. Leave ‘em alone.”

Netta laughs as Jimin pouts, and Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Thank you, Yoongi. But honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. I don’t know where we are going. Jungkook said he wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“How romantic!” Jimin gushes, and Netta turns her attention to Jungkook, who is now standing at the plate to kick.

“I guess it is…”

The students beat the teachers nine to five, and as their reward, Seokjin was going to host an ice cream party for everyone next Friday during the last class.

“Bye, Mr. Jeon!” A few students shout from their parent’s cars as they drive past, and Jungkook beeps his horn as he starts his engine. Right away, he puts the air on and sighs the moment the cool air hits his hot skin. He’s still sweating from running outside, and his heartbeat is slowly returning to normal. Jungkook pulls the sun visor down and looks at himself in the mirror; his hair is a mess, his face is sweaty, and his eyes are alive and bright. He wipes at his face and pushes his hair back quickly before he flips the sun visor back up and leans back in his seat.

He is waiting for Netta to come out so that he can drop her off at her place. They have their first official date tonight, and Jungkook is determined to have a great time for Netta. Everything is planned out, and now all Jungkook has to do is get himself ready. A few minutes pass before Netta comes out of the school with her friend Jimin by her side. The two are talking about something that Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine, and he unlocks the doors for her.

Jimin is ever the gentleman and opens the passenger door for Netta and shields her head as she lowers herself into the seat. Leaning against the door frame, Jimin looks at Jungkook and narrows his eyes.

“You better treat my bestie right, Jeon. I will kick your tall, muscular ass if you fuck this up!”

Jungkook huffs a laugh and nods his head, “Goodbye, Jimin.”

Jimin kisses Netta’s cheek and slams the door shut before heading to his car. Jungkook waits for Netta to buckle herself in and pulls out of his parking space.

“You did really well today. I thought your team was going to win.”

“What kind of teachers would we be if we swept the floor with a bunch of little kids?”

Netta laughs and nods her head in agreement. She is sure that the children would have been heartbroken if they had lost, especially with the promise of an ice cream party as the prize.

“Well, I still think you kicked ass out there.”

“Yeah? We still lost the game…my ego is bruised.”

“Your poor ego.”

“Kiss it and make it better?”

Netta glances over at Jungkook, and he smiles innocently.

“You’re a dork.”

“I’m your dork,” Jungkook says with a wink before he turns his attention back to the road.

Date night is beyond anything that Netta was able to imagine. She was under the impression that Jungkook was going to take her out to eat, and that was it, classy and simple. How wrong she was. Jungkook took Netta to an aquarium. The aquarium was something that Netta recalled telling him about over a late night phone call when Jungkook asked what was something she missed from her hometown. They explored the whole place, swam with the dolphins, pet the stingrays, and cuddled some otters and Jungkook won a large penguin plushie from a raffle that he entered. For dinner, Jungkook had placed an order for pickup at one of his favorite small family restaurants, and they ate their meal under the stars on a large blanket in the park.

It was a perfect date, and Jungkook suggested that they end the night with ice cream, to which Netta agreed. Ice cream sounded wonderful, and that’s how she ended up back at Jungkook’s home, once again sitting in his living room. They sit on the same couch and share a tub of ice cream between them, along with a few other treats, while One Piece plays on the tv.

“Nami is always hitting them,” Jungkook pouts, and Netta laughs.

“If they would act right, they wouldn’t get hit.”

“They are pirates! There is no acting right,” Jungkook argues, and Netta licks the spoon in her hand.

“Pirates or not pirates, they shouldn’t scream at each other all the time.”

“It’s entertaini-”

“Shit! C-Cold!”

Jungkook’s brain freezes, and he stops talking mid-sentence as he watches the melted ice cream from Netta’s spoon drip onto her bare leg, her thigh that is exposed since she chose to wear a dress tonight. Netta drops her spoon into the tub of ice cream and quickly wipes her thigh with her middle finger, collecting the melted ice cream. She brings her finger to her mouth and licks the melted treat from her finger.

“Sorry, you were saying?”

She turns her eyes back to Jungkook, and he is staring at her hard. Netta tilts her head, unsure why he looks so pained, and she follows his gaze to the smeared ice cream on her thigh.

“Jungkook?” Netta calls his name gently, and he doesn’t budge, so she unbends her leg and kicks out her foot. The tips of her toes graze Jungkook’s outer thigh, and he jumps from the sudden pressure against his leg. His large eyes find Netta’s, and she smiles while biting her lower lip. “See something you like?”

Jungkook’s eyes drop back to her thighs, and he grabs her ankle now that her foot is resting on his lap. The spoon in Jungkook’s hand slaps against the side of Netta’s calf, and she jumps from the coldness.

“Sorry…” Jungkook’s voice is breathy as he slowly lifts Netta’s leg upward towards his face, “Let me get that for you.” His tongue peaks out of his mouth, and her breath catches in her throat as the warm wetness of his tongue sends goosebumps up her body. Jungkook’s tongue slides up, up, up. The splat of ice cream long gone as he moves higher, stopping at the side of Netta’s knee before he places a wet kiss on the skin. He lets her leg fall to his shoulder, the other still tucked under her butt, giving Jungkook a great view of the black and green panties underneath the dress.

“Not sure what I enjoy more-” Jungkook places the ice cream on the table and drops his spoon into the tub. “the ice cream or you.”

Netta releases the breath in her lungs as Jungkook devours her with his eyes and untucks her other leg from underneath her butt. “I don’t think you tasted me properly, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook’s eyes darken, and he quickly grabs her legs and throws them around his waist, “You might just be right, Ms. Robbins.” Jungkook lifts them both from the couch and supports Netta’s body by holding her ass in his hands. “Should we test our hypothesis?”

Netta fights the smile on her face, “Did we come up with one?”

“I hypothesize that you taste better than anything I’ve eaten today.”

“Just today?”

Jungkook smirks and clicks his tongue, “Let’s find out.”

Making his way through the apartment, Jungkook heads to his bedroom and toes open the door of his bedroom, thankful that he never fully closes it when he leaves. He steps inside and plops Netta down on the bed so that her legs hang off and drops to the floor on his knees. Jungkook places his hands on her knees and trails them up over her thighs, the fabric of her nude colored dress catching against his hands and bunching as he travels farther up. Jungkook licks and sucks at the exposed flesh of Netta’s thighs; her skin is salty and smells like cookie dough. Jungkook groans against her inner thigh and sinks his teeth into the soft skin. Netta whines, and her back arches as her hands tangle in Jungkook’s fluffy locks.

“Shhh, relax for me…I just want a taste.” Jungkook’s voice is gone, airy and light, as his hands tuck into the waistband of Netta’s panties, and he tugs them down. Netta removes her hands from Jungkook’s hair before she lifts her legs slightly and bends her right leg to make it easier for Jungkook to remove them. He just lets the panties hang from around her left ankle. The dress that Netta is wearing is now bunched completely up her waist, her lower half exposed to the cool air in Jungkook’s room, and she shivers when his warm breath glides over the wetness that is slowly leaking from her core.

“One taste...please, Ms. Robbins?”

Netta nods her head, and Jungkook stares at her with wide eyes, his lips parted slightly as his tongue plays with his lip ring. “Y-Yes…go ahead, Jungkook.” Netta’s heart pounds in her chest as Jungkook lowers his head, not once breaking eye contact. The warmth of his breath makes her shiver, and in that moment, Jungkook trails his tongue from her perineum and licks upwards to her sensitive nub, dipping the tip into her dripping slit teasingly.

“O-Oh!”

Spurred on by the soft pants of ‘ah, ah!’ and ‘s-shit’, Jungkook slurps up everything Netta offers. Like a peach, her juices coat his mouth and chin as he wraps his lips around the puffy bud between her legs. Netta’s back arches, and Jungkook moans against her, grinning as her thighs squish his head like a vice. His dark eyes are sparkling in delight as Netta threads her fingers through his silky locks and pushes his head down. Not waiting to leave his baby wanting for more, Jungkook manages to get his right hand between Netta’s legs and slips his middle finger inside of her dripping cunt.

“Oh, f-fuck!”

The stretch is very slight, not much, but the pressure is enough to make Netta’s legs quiver. Jungkook presses a messy kiss to her pussy and nips at the tender flesh of her inner thigh, “That’s it, baby. So fucking wet…mmm-” Jungkook hums as he licks his lips. “Best pussy I’ve ever eaten.” Jungkook’s voice is liquid gold, thick and warm as he presses his index finger in with his middle, and Netta’s whole body is shaking. “Close, Ms. Robbins?”

The air in Netta’s lungs is hardly there, and the words on the tip of her tongue come out as harsh pants of breath as she struggles to control herself. Jungkook’s fingers are long and thick around his knuckles. They press into her quickly, hitting that soft bundle repeatedly as he laps at every place he can taste. He can feel how her walls pulse around him, a silent beat that his body easily follows.

“Squeezing my fingers so tight…” Jungkook tries to wiggle his fingers, and Netta moans loudly. He removes his fingers and nips at Netta’s right thigh, the flesh tender and damp with his spit. “Look at the mess you made,” Jungkook holds his hand up to show Netta the sticky clear strands of her arousal between his spread fingers and grins wickedly as Netta stares down at him through hazy, hooded lids.

“J-Jungkook!” Netta whines at the loss of his fingers and sinful mouth. She was in the throes of pleasure, at the highest peak, ready to plummet before he pulled it all away. Jungkook raises an eyebrow and nibbles at his lip ring. Shaking her head with a huff, Netta kicks at Jungkook to move from off the floor, and he crawls onto the bed. “Can you do something with that? Please?” Netta motions to Jungkook’s soiled hand, and Jungkook easily pops his fingers in his mouth with a lewd moan as he sucks her arousal from the digits. “Jungkook!” Netta squeaks in embarrassment and slaps at his chest.

He pulls his fingers from his mouth with a loud, wet pop, and Netta wishes she could hide under the covers. “Why are you acting shy now, hmm?” Jungkook wipes at his mouth and chin with the back of his wrist and pulls Netta into his arms. He nuzzles their noses together and grins. “Best pussy-”

“Shut up, Jeon!” Netta slaps her hand over his mouth, and Jungkook kisses her palm. Jungkook nips at her finger, and Netta giggles as Jungkook wipes his head back and forth playfully like a dog trying to escape its muzzle. Netta pulls her hand from his face, and Jungkook pecks her lips.

“Do you want to stop here?”

“But what about-”

“Aht, aht!” Jungkook shakes his head and grips Netta's chin lightly between his thumb and index finger. He tilts her face upwards and stares into her honey brown eyes. “I’ve gone to sleep with boners before. It’s not that big a deal. Do you want to stop here or keep going, Ms. Robbins?”

The urge to pee presses into Netta’s pelvis, and she bites her lip, “C-can I use the bathroom first?”

Jungkook laughs and kisses the tip of her nose, “Go. I’ll get everything ready here.”

Netta wiggles out of Jungkook’s arms and hurries out of his room, her panties now somewhere on his bedroom floor as she walks the rest of the way out of them. Jungkook lays in bed, his heart racing in his chest before he takes a deep breath and sits up. He runs a hand through his hair and strips out of his shirt, pants, and boxers. Not wanting to make Netta feel awkward, he reaches into his nightstand drawer and grabs a condom from the pack. He rips the foil, rolls it on over his dick, and settles under the blankets, exposing his chest.

From the floor, Jungkook’s phone rings from his pants pocket, and he groans. Glancing at the door, Jungkook chews at his piercing. It wouldn’t hurt just to check to see who is calling. Slipping out of bed, Jungkook grabs his pants from the floor and digs his phone from his pocket. He looks at the screen, and Netta’s smiling face is looking up at him. He glances at the door again before hurries out of the room and knocks on the bathroom door.

“Hey, you okay in there?”

The sound of crying is muffled behind the door, and his phone goes off again. Netta is calling him again, so Jungkook answers.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying? D-Did I hurt you?” Jungkook’s voice raises with panic, and Netta sniffles a few times.

“I-I’m sorry, Jungkook. I-I wanted to do more b-but my period c-came and-” Netta bursts into tears on the other line, and Jungkook’s heart drops into his ass.

“No, no. It’s okay, Netta!” Jungkook reassures her. “D-Do you have anything with you? I’m sorry, I don’t have anything here.”

“I didn’t bring anything with me.”

“Just wait here, okay? I can ask my neighbor if she has anything for you to use so you aren’t stuck in the bathroom. I-Is that okay?”

“I’m sorry Jungkook-”

“Stop apologizing! It’s fine, Netta.” Jungkook walks away from the bathroom and heads to his room to throw his clothes back on. “Give me a few moments. Do you mind if she comes over? I can run to the store and grab whatever you need in that time.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Netta, stop. I’m dating you, and you’re dating me. That means we take care of each other, right?” Jungkook hurries to the front door and slips on a pair of shoes. “Right?” he asks again, and Netta makes sounds of agreement. “Right! So, act right, and let me take care of you.”

Netta’s laugh is watery and full of snot but it makes Jungkook’s heart race.

“Thank you, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook grins and knocks on his neighbor's door, “You’re welcome, Ms. Robbins.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x oc #teacher!jungkook #soc jungkook #act right #exqueuese me

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yuniniverse · 7 months

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PAIRING ! ━ hunter x gn reader

GENRE ! ━ highschool au , strangers to friends to lovers ,tooth rotting fluff , slight angst but has a happy ending!

WORD COUNT ! ━ 1.64k

AUTHOR NOTE ! ━ first imagine on tumblr :"3 it's pretty big but lmk if y'all like it ^^ please do not steal my works!

MASTERLIST!

you swung your bag back and forth, patiently waiting for the rain to stop. You weren't in a rush, infact you loved rain, but you couldn't fall sick and that meant you couldn't run to your house in the pouring weather. Slowly you were getting impatient, it didn't look like it would stop raining any time soon but you were worried as you had to study for an exam tomorrow.

As you stepped your left foot outside, a hand clutched onto your sleeve pulled you back, you tripped back landing onto the guys hold. Looking up your face goes read. 'he's really handsome' you thought before brushing yourself off him. "Take my umbrella, your attendance is already pretty low so you don't want to catch a cold and miss tomorrows exam" he smiled as he forwarded the violet coloured umbrella towards you. You shook your head, rejecting his offer as your hands push it towards him. "You should go home first, your the top ranker in our class and I don't want your rank to come low tomorrow" you say with your head hung low, you weren't embarrassed rather you were shy.

you lift your head to a chuckle, "i didn't know you noticed me or my marks?" He spoke with a slight hint of shyness in his tone. You smiled and spoke nothing else.

Papungkorn Lertkiatdamrong, the thai exchange student that had every girl swoon over the sight of him, including you.

you were on your way to the gym area to meet your friends, that was until your eyes caught an unfamiliar face. You didn't notice you were smiling at him, your feet wandered to your friends, but your attention was on him. Suddenly everyone's attention was on you and you found yourself on the floor, running your head that had hit the wall. You glared at your friends giggling at you, you stood up, still glaring at your friends who were holding back giggles and teases. You look back at the new guy who was smiling warmly at you, holding out his thumb while mouthing 'you ok?' to which you nodded. his smile was cute you thought, the entire time your eyes were on him, secretly falling for him. From then on you always looked forward for the classes you had with him.

after a long persuasive session with your friends, you finally admitted you fell for the new cute guy.

you found yourself holding the metal rod of the umbrella, his hand over yours. "Then we'll go together" he smiled. Oh how lovely he looked, his cheeks were rosy, his eyes looked at you with such adornment, the corners of his lips lifted, he was prettier than anyone you've come across.

he waved, still waiting by the gate to your apartment until you disappeared from sight, only then would he leave. You closed the door, sliding down and hiding your face in your palms, kicking your feet even. confused at this new feeling, but you liked how happy it made you, how warm and fuzzy it felt.

you whip out your phone to text your best friend junghoon, forcing asking him to come early so that you could spill the tea.

unaware to you, hunter felt the same.

the next day at school, you waited at your classroom, your feet tapped onto the floor impatiently, glancing at the clock and your texts between you and your bestfriend. You finally look behind you and smiled at the tired boy standing at the door frame behind your desk. your hands flapped excitedly as you welcome him with a hug.

"What is it that you wanted to tell me?" Junghoon asks as he drops his bag beside a desk. You were about to speak when you heard the bell and soon the hallways and the classroom was filled with the sound of students shuffling through to find their respective classes and seats. you whisper to him that you'd tell him later. Before junghoon left to his class, you gave him a last hug. Unaware of the boy that stood watching you two, he slightly frowned as he pulled his chair out and sat with a groan.

As soon as your test was over you turned over to look at hunter, or atleast that's what his friends called him, but your heart dropped as he silently walked out. you quickly pack your things, mindlessly shoving everything into the bag and forcing it shut before running out. Stopping in your tracks as you see another girl talking to him. She was a grade lower to you, also a Thai exchange student. You frowned at how he smiled so wide at her, how she playfully hit his shoulder and how he would laugh along with her. His laugh always made you happy, but you feel the opposite today.

your feet retracted to your class, pulling back your chair and plopping down, almost hitting your forehead over the wooden desk if it weren't for junghoons hands holding your forehead away. "You don't look so good" he states as a matter of fact. He turns to the call of his group of friends, hunter being one among them, peeping at your sudden devastated state, as if you've broken up with your 10 year boyfriend. once the sound of the boys chatting grew faint, you plopped forward again, only this time you hit your head. You groaned, rubbing your slightly red forehead.

"Do you like hitting your head when I'm around" hunter jokes as he pulls the chair infront of your desk, smiling at you. "Why are you here?" You questioned as he dramatically gasps, "someone's not happy that I'm here" you sigh as the picture of him and the other girl smiling at each other and looking at each other all lovely dovey flashed into your mind. "Don't you have to talk to Hansa or something?" He looks at you with a questioned look, laughing minutes later when he realised you were jealous. Hunter stands up and ruffles your hair before forwarding a folded paper slip towards you before running away.

Your heart flutters at the series of numbers and a 'by your hunter ;)'

"Good lord weren't you sulking minutes ago? Now your giggling and kicking your feet???" Junghoon questions, a slight smirk on his face. Atleast he's saved from having to listen to his bestfriend rant about how miserable her life was because of a certain guy that had papungkorn as his name. "LOOK!" you SQUEALED- as you waved the chit over the cat like boys face, it took him a minute to register until his head perked up, smiling at you, "your hunter~~" he teases as you shove him aside, resting your feet onto the seat of the chair as you giggle into your palms, squealing as junghoon laughs at you. he smiles as you continue to ramble on how precious he was and how you loved him so much and shamelessly face planted for him. How his eyes were sparkling, how his energy always reminded you of those small golden retriever puppies, how his smile meant the whole world to you. He looks up at the taller guy standing right behind you guys, his gaze averting everywhere else except on you as he scratched the back of his head shyly. Junghoon smiled more as he looked at you chanting over and over again on how much you loved hunter in between your giggles while keeping your face still hidden under your palms. He slowly gets up, nodding at the brown haired boy before slowly leaving without you noticing.

You on the other hand noticed how there wasn't any response, your best friend was quiet but he was being waay too quiet right now. You peeked over your fingers only to be met with an empty desk. You gasp as you correct your position, mentally cursing at the poor boy, you stand up and take your bags, ready to leave the classroom and give kim junghoon an hours lecture on how this certain papungkorn guy was the loml and how he SHOULD hear you rant over how this boy meant so much to you. You turn around only to face hunter. Your face flushes red, hoping he didn't hear anything. Much to your avail.

"Hi" you awkwardly wave, before you knew it, you were engulfed in a hug. your hands wrapped around his torso, patting him. You didn't know what was going on but you felt warm, you felt safe in his hold. You never wanted to let go of his hold.

"I love you too." He whispers into your ear as his holda you tighter, as if he was afraid that you would slip out of his hands if he let you go. Rocking you side to side, you buried your face into his jacket. hunter found his jacket develop a wet patch especially in his shoulder area, he breaks the hug as he looks at your tear stained cheeks, his fingers caress your cheek, wiping away the tears, slowly panicking and questioning himself if he did anything wrong. "I swear I don't know why I'm crying either" you state as you continue to ramble again on how you loved him so much and for him to return feelings was not what you expected and you were just overwhelmed, before you could finish, a soft pair of lips were on yours. his hands still cupped your face, caressing your cheek lovingly as he smiles into the kiss. your ames unconsciously wrap around his neck as you smile into the kiss as well. you pull away first to catch air as he connects your forehead together.

"I love you so much y/n. You were always the girl I had my eyes on and it will always be you in every universe."

#xikers imagines #papungkorn lertkiatdamrong #xikers imagine #xikers hunter x reader #xikers fluff #xikers x reader #xikers reactions #xikers #hunter x reader #park hunter #hunter xikers #hunter fluff #xikers fanfic #xikers drabbles #xikers one shots #xikers timestamp

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krasytoonz · 10 months

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Welcome Home Gangster AU Fun Facts!

Joke AU pls don’t take it seriously

Wally D

Can bleed blood out of His Eyes whenever he Witnesses Public display of Affection

Doesn’t need to Eat or Sleep (or Shit)

Fragile masculinity

Guilty Pleasure/Special Interest is Bluey (Australian Family Cartoon)

Lil Dawg

Will pay BUCKS for hotdogs ($40 for one? No problem)

Beatboxes 🎶🔥

Apparently despite of his Height and Size no one is really scared of him (maybe because of his Resting Smile Face)

Big Edd

Listens to Kpop girl bands and watches magical girl Animes

He’s everything that Wally’s fragile masculinity FEARS

Shit at makeup but still love doing it on people’s Faces

Fr4nk

Every Voting Season he hacks into the American Government and fucks their Voting System up for no reasonable explanation at all

Trolls on Reddit and 4Chan (probably has Access to the Dark Web too who knows)

Overexplains everything just to piss Wally off

Pøppy

Can unleash her inner Roadman Voice when she’s angry

Once caught Lil Dawg eating KFC and never trusts Anyone ever again even if she’s cool with them

Watches Thai Girl’s Love Series

Howdy Pi££ar

Money is Love, Money is Life

Will do anything for money (50/50 might probably Fight a Grandma for money too, it’s unpredictable)

Tried to flush Wally down a toilet but he came back out (Don’t Ask about it)

The only gang member alongside Silly Sal that can drive a motorcycle

Horrible at rap battles and Coming up with Lyrics

Deep ass voice

Silly Sal

The only gang member alongside JJ that can drive a motorcycle

Cannot keep her hands to herself (literally POKES everything she Did Not have to poke)

Sunny

Fr4nk’s Ex.. Best friend (BAHAHA)

The Butt of the Joke of everything practically

The Joyful Siblings

Bikers! 🏍️🏍️🏍️💨

Knows sign language (including JJ)

Owns Joyful Burger (that same one you see in TAWOG) but it’s for money laundering purposes

Homie

Best van ever (Automatically Drives! Self Aware!)

Speaks in Onomatopoeia (Vrooommm!)

In General

There is No Blood in this AU, and everyone is stuffed with Cottons

There is no actual ‘serious’ Weapons in this AU, and the gang use Waterguns and slingshots to do Steal from Banks lmao

The Jail Bar’s Gap is so big the shorter gang members (Wally, JJ, Sally) can practically escape through the gap.. But they just don’t for some Reason

All the Tattoos on the Gangsters are Drawn with Markers 🖊️

Y/N

Y/N can be a Citizen, part of the Gang or a Cop, or whatever Y/N wants to Be!

There is no specific ‘look’ for Y/N, so Y/N can look like whatever Y/N wants to look like.

*Will be updated Accordingly!

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coppernuggets · 7 months

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Hello!! My name is Copper

It was about time i made an intro post, so here it is!

I use They/them pronouns, im 16, Thai and Austrian, and i speak both English and German! So feel free to request in either language!

Speaking of requests, I'll put more details about those under the cut! Just so this post won't take up too much space.

So requests you say! Im no fanfic writer, but i do draw! So if you want anything doodled or drawn you can request in my ask box! Do note i wont draw immediately and depending on if art block is active or not, it may take a while

I only do fandoms i currently know of and am interested in, so heres a list. I'll update it to whatever is up to date whenever i can! You can also just ask

Pokemon

Httyd / How to train your dragon

The amazing digital circus

Undertale / Deltarune

Fionna and cake

Adventure time

Warrior cats

Rottmnt

Stray (the game)

Miitopia / Tomodachi life

Atla

Sky cotl

Welcome home

TOH

more will be added/removed in the future

What i will and wont draw

I will not draw NSFW / F3TISHES / SUGGESTIVE THEMES and the like, i feel this should go without saying

Proships, abuse, heavy gore or violence

Free ref sheets for your ocs, maybe I'll draw them a little headshot but for now i cant do that, or canon x oc stuff unless its platonic.

Wally darling aus. Im not a big fan of those.

Ships of real people, I'm sorry but what. Unless the people mentioned have stated they're comfortable with such media i will not draw such things.

I will draw characters that range from non-human to human! Its a fun challenge

Requested ships, i dont judge here! unless ofc its unethical and actively harmful

Crossover interaction, its fun to think of such things! like the.. brave tangled dragons i think its called?

Besides that, I'll draw anything else that isn't on the "will not" part!

Thank you for reading!! Happy drawing!!

And for tags, i round up my art with the hashtag #nuggetsys if I don't forget to add it! Otherwise the tags are simply for reach.

#thought crumbles is for random thoughts!

#nuggetsys #art #artists on tumblr #ocs #intro post #info #request #requests open

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duo-from-the-depths-of-hell · 2 months

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NEW AU JUST DROPPED YALL

About the Welcome to the UnderWorld au:

thai au is made by two people that run this blog, the drawing you saw is made by the second creator (Mothling a.k.a me) the first creator which is the person who had the idea for the au is Void King.

Basicly this au takes place in the deep depths of hell where neighbor (you) get sent to afther you die and meet you old friends.

Heads up, Poppy was born down there and she basicly protects the depths. Home is basicly like an overlord that controls these lands, no one is allowed to enter (unless you die and get sent here) or leave (Wally and Howdy being exceptions)

Frank and Eddie are married in this au. And if its allowed, Laughingstock is ganna also be in the au.

And yea, hope to see around, neighbor

#orgh #welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home au #my artwork #wttuw au

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 1 year

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Vast!Jon AU snippet - Martin, no

Martin has had… a week, and he knows he has, so he takes the time he needs to read this contract.

It’s a two-pager. It’s so clear and simple that he’s tempted to build a fire and hold the contract over it to look for gotcha-clauses in invisible ink.

Peter chills while he does, not pushing, clearly unconcerned as long as Martin is quiet and still (though Martin definitely notices that movement or sound disrupts Peter’s chill at once).

Martin can’t find anything tricky in the wording.

It has a really smooth quitting clause. There is no NDA. Martin even keeps all the rights, and can use the videos and anything else he creates however he wants.

The only thing the Lukas family asks for is the right to direct these episodes, and to provide means for Martin to achieve their creative ideas.

It seems too good to be true. It has to be too good to be true. Things like this don’t exist.

“You are a suspicious little bugger, aren’t you?” says Peter cheerfully.

“Well, you’ve got to be, don’t you?” mutters Martin, reading it through a fourth time. “Or else somebody gets you in the back.”

Peter laughs. “Lovely.”

And he still doesn’t push.

A tiny, petty part of Martin wants to make him stand there waiting, for three hours, and see how he likes it.

But he’s hungry, and he’s supposed to meet with Jon tonight, so…

One more scan through.

He still can’t spot the gotcha. “Just one question. What do you people get out of this?”

“That, Martin, is something you’ll learn as we go.”

Alarm bells. “What, are you inducting people into a cult, or something? Will there be subliminal messages in my videos?”

“No, no,” Peter chuckles. “Though that’d be a trip, wouldn’t it? No. We’re just well aware that more and more people are stuck at home, isolated, and their only contact with the outside world is… well, people like you! And you’re not actually there, are you? It’s a very lonely way to be, and we want to help. You might say it’s been the family business to help just so for a very long time.”

Martin stares at him. “Nice villain speech.”

“Right? It's even funny, though you probably can't see that yet.”

As though they’re both joking.

Martin takes a moment to check his phone.

A warning that the bill for his mother’s care is late.

Not one bite from any job applications.

Not one loan application approved.

And a text from Jon, asking if he wants Thai or pizza, followed by a weird, carefully punctuated rant about the uniformity of pizza flavors and whether they all use the same suppliers or if base ingredients just taste the same by some sort of tradition.

Martin’s heart does a lovely little dance, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders. He smiles.

Peter shifts. Shifts again.

Somehow, Martin has finally made his sponsor uncomfortable.

Maybe making him uncomfortable is a bad idea. Martin needs this. And… he can quit any time he likes. “All right. I’m signing.”

“Fabulous. I knew you would.”

“Don’t get chummy now,” Martin mutters, holding the pen. His hands shakes, poised over the signature box.

“You won't have to worry about that. Welcome aboard, Martin. We’ll be in contact on Saturday - oh! Be sure to leave your bank details here, too. We’ll be wiring money today, as promised.”

“Even though I haven’t done anything for you yet?” says Martin, suspicious. There was no verbiage about having to return it if things went poorly.

“Do you not want it?” says Peter, absolutely as innocent as a snake.

Martin tries to ignore the idea that they know he needs it badly (How would they? How?) and signs.

#vast!jon #tma au #tma #tma fic #fic in progress #wip #amwriting #lonely!martin

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taley-blue · 1 year

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วรวีร์ ดาร์ลิ่ง (ออเจ้า / Thai traditional style)

#drawing #sketch #fan art #cartoon #art by me #quicksketch #welcome home wally darling #welcome home wally #wally darling #Wally #Welcome home thai au

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jonesatheart · 7 months

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An AU where Casey meets the boys when they're all much younger (and closer in age) and hangs out with them a lot after school.

He first met Master Splinter when he was hurt (idk how yet, don't ask) and Raph and Donny dragged him to the lair to be patched up by their dad. Master Splinter's dad instincts won over and he decided that, after Casey promised to keep quiet about things and to keep the boys, that he's an okay human to be around.

Casey's mom often works late shifts and is happy to hear that her son has made some good friends and let's him know thay they welcome over for dinner at any time (she suspects that these friends aren't the best off, and can sympathize with the single parent situation).

Cue shenanigans ensuing when Casey brings the boys up to the apartment because of a storm and not realizing his mother came home from work early that day and she learns that Casey's after school friends are actually pre-teen mutant ninja-in-training turtles.

Her mom instincts kick in and she makes sure the boys are dry and warm and insisting Casey call their dad to come wait out the storm with them because there's no way she's letting those poor boys out in this weather.

Thus begins the Jones-Hamato co-parenting situation.

#tmnt #tmnt au #tmnt 2003 au #my writing

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discet · 2 years

Note

Do you have any ideas on Anne and Sasha also discovering and adventuring in the Boiling Isles?

okay so I'm gonna assume this is circumstances similar to my Marcy in the Boiling Isles Story in so far as this is an AU in which the girls end up in the boiling isles while the other two are still back on Earth.

Definitely less thoughts for these two than for Marcy

I think the core problem is motivation and circumstances for these two. Unlike Marcy, Anne and Sasha weren't looking for an escape, and they would be much more earnestly looking for a way home than Luz or Marcy were.

Anne

So I think for Anne her onboarding point is about 6 months after her 13th birthday. Marcy has moved away 5 months ago, to keep in touch through the internet. Three months ago, without Marcy to provide a buffer and play peacekeeper, Sasha and Anne hit a breaking point when Anne isn't willing to just keep doing whatever Sasha says. A rift forms between the two of them. Sasha has used her social position to make Anne an outcast at school, something she hoped would pressure Anne to just apologize and fall under her control but has only widened the rift between them farther.

When Sasha tried to get Marcy to back her up in getting Anne 'Under Control', Marcy wasn't willing to and as such Sasha has stopped talking to Marcy. Without all that development she gets in Amphibia she's too stubborn to admit she's in the wrong.

In this AU Anne becomes much more dedicated to keeping in touch with Marcy as she isn't able to make friends at school. Anne takes an interest in more of Marcy's interests so that they have more to do online together together. They stream watch movies together on weekends and probably play Vagabondia online together on the weekdays. (Anne plays tank while Marcy plays support. Probably play with one or two of Marcy's new friends from her new school)

As the summer approaches Anne makes plans to visit Marcy in Oregon for a month. She saves her allowance from working at Thai Go to buy a bus ticket and a gift for Marcy. She might also be developing some feelings for Marcy at this point and might be a little nervous.

I think what happens is that at a bus stop in some nowhere town they have a break for lunch. Anne gets out to stretch her legs but catches sight of a little owl carrying off her gift she prepared for Marcy.

She chases after owlbert and ends up in the boiling isles. I think she gets into a little confrontation with Eda about the gift: Eda insisting on payment in snails and Anne indignant after being robbed. To make sure Anne doesn't just immediately leave, I think she wacks Eda with her tennis racket, takes the gift and then makes a run for it. It's only a few blocks away that she comes to realize that she is not in Oregon anymore.

Anne, unlike Luz or Marcy is not at all happy to be in the boiling isles. A trip to visit her childhood friend was all the adventure she wanted for the summer. So, freaked out and panicking I think she flees towards hexside. Cause even if its a weird magic school, it's still a school, which is a welcome source of familiarity. I think she spends some time running around the school, trying to find an authority figure when she is eventually found by the hall monitors and starts getting chased.

Viney from the detention track takes pity on Anne and when she turns a corner pulls her into the extra dimensional space the detention track uses to sneak around. Which is where I think we get our status quo.

Anne is spends her days trying to figure out a way home. She is hiding out secretly in hex side as a student with the help of the detention track kids. Step one is find Eda again, step two is trying to either sneak back through the door or convince Eda to let her through.

I think she tries to keep a low profile but ends up getting dragged on all sorts of adventures. I think she eventually finds a way into the beast keeping track just because she is really good with animals and can fake it convincingly. If I was serious about this AU I might consider dropping the Marcanne angle to ship Anne with Viney

I also think we get a really tragic scenario on the human side of things, where Marcy is waiting at the bus station for Anne until its late and not getting any messages or calls from Anne. She comes to accept that Anne visiting might have been an elaborate prank of some kind since it feels like she's been ghosted. This lasts until 2 weeks or so later when Mr. and Mrs. Boonchuy call the Wu's asking Marcy to tell Anne to pick up her phone, which is when everyone catches on that Anne is actually missing.

Sasha

Okay, struggled with this one for a bit. But I think I got it.

So this I would set actually juuust before Marcy moves away. Marcy is moving in a few days and they all decide to have one last big sleepover at Sasha's house. There is a bit of a dour tone over the proceedings. Marcy is sad about leaving and Anne is putting on a good front but its clearly on her mind as well.

Sasha tries to liven things up with one last great scare dare. This one involves exploring the old abandoned house in the development. Anne and Marcy are hesitant do to legends about the place, but Sasha of course is having none of it. They sneak out to the house and inside see the free standing owl eyed door cracked open.

Sasha trying to get the girls to back down says they should go inside it. Anne and Marcy, pretty spooked at this point refuse and Sasha goes forward to win the scare dare. She stands on the other side, taunting them, saying it looks like there would be one last entry into the book of losers.

Then things go wrong. Sasha hears some commotion from outside the tent on her side while Owlbert swoops in through the door on the earth side. Eda comes rushing in, one hand holding out the staff for Owlbert to land on and the other clicking the door to the human world shut with the key. The door goes to suitcase mode trapping Sasha on the boiling isles. Eda grabs the suitcase and takes to the air as the cops are on her tail.

Sasha is captured as a presumed accomplice, much to her frustration.

So from here we get a bit of a similar set up to Marcy in that AU, with one key difference. Sasha can do spell circles. No one understands how or why a human can do magic. It's weak and she needs to work harder to get the same effect but she can do it.

The big twist of this AU would be that about 8 generations back, Sasha's ancestor was Caleb and a witch who fled to Earth to escape Belos after he killed Caleb. This is based on little more than they are both blonde and have

I think the main thrust would be Sasha agreeing to work with Belos in exchange for a way back to Earth.

Earth side Anne and Marcy are keeping in contact, trying to figure out what the hell happened to their friend. I think the fact that they are both getting on alright without her drives Sasha a little nuts.

Not sure where things go from there.

But those were fun to think of

#anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #amphibia #the owl house

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musecaravan-info · 7 months

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Sam Beckett

"I'm just a traveler upon the sea / Of time, of life, on Fate's Wide Wheel. / Just a traveler in this mystery / The me I am is all that’s real to me." ~ Fate's Wide Wheel, Quantum Leap, "Glitter Rock" ~

Basic Information

FACE/BODY CLAIM: Scott Bakula

AGE: Technically 45 (but he’ll look the same as whoever he’s leaped into)

EYES: Green

HAIR: Light Brown with a small streak of grey right at the front

HEIGHT: 6'0

PRIMARY OUTFIT: Given that he’s always in someone else’s shoes (literally) he doesn’t really have his own style of dress anymore. However, if he did, it would probably be a little less than business casual. Basically - jeans, sneakers, and a casual dress shirt of some kind.

Personality

Sam is kind of your classical 'nerdy, nice guy.' Unlike a lot of stereotypical intellectuals, he's practically an empath, and the kind of person who will do whatever he can to help anyone in need. Sam can be a bit awkward in that 'nerd' kind of way that indicates he's used to people shutting him down before he really gets going. But if he realizes he's not going to be shut down, he usually relaxes into the situation/conversation.

Strengths

Sam is proficient in multiple martial arts such as Judo, Karate, Muay Thai, and Taekwondo. Mentally, Sam is a genius with an IQ of 267 and an eidetic memory. He has doctoral degrees in music, medicine, quantum physics, archaeology, ancient languages, chemistry, and astronomy - but not psychiatry or law. He also speaks six modern languages including English, Spanish, French, Russian, German, and Japanese - but not Italian or Hebrew. He knows four extinct languages, including Egyptian Hieroglyphics. He played piano at Carnegie Hall when he was 19. And finally, Sam has won a Nobel Prize for physics prompting TIME magazine to call him ‘the next Einstein.’

Weaknesses

Sam's physical abilities are exactly what you’d expect from a man his age, height, and weight - average, in other words. His mental limitations are actually tied to his leaping. Each leap creates temporary 'holes' in his memory. In the show it's regularly referred to as 'swiss cheese brain.'

Romance

Sam is a gentleman through and through. Just because he leaps into someone who’s with someone doesn’t mean he’s going to hop into bed with the person they’re married to, or dating, or whatever. In fact, he’ll generally go out of his way to make sure it doesn’t happen. He doesn’t feel right sleeping with someone under false pretenses.

However! If Sam has been in the same person’s body long enough to get to know the other person - if he’s begun to care about them - his own emotions often override everything else. Leaping is an incredibly lonely way to live, and (to be frank) he’s not going to ignore his own feelings for someone... regardless of false pretenses.

Where to Find Him

To avoid repetition, read this post.

Verses

Just because a verse isn't listed here doesn't mean I'm not interested in writing it. I adore all kinds of AUs, and welcome the chance to get creative with my muses. If you've seen a verse that another of my muses has, and you'd like to see this muse in something similar, let me know. You can also check out my 'Plot Ideas' tag, too. ^_^

Main Verse:

Theorizing that one could time travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett stepped into the quantum leap accelerator and vanished. He awoke to find himself trapped in the past, facing mirror images that were not his own, and driven by an unknown force to change history for the better. His only guide on his journey is Al, an observer from his own time who appears in the form of a hologram that only Sam can see and hear. And so Dr. Beckett finds himself leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong, and hoping that each time, his next leap, will be the leap home. (Taken from the show's opening.)

Current/Ongoing Threads

If your thread with Sam isn't listed here it's probably because it's been long enough since your last reply that I thought you'd dropped it. Message me to let me know you're still interested, and I'll happily add you to the list (with no pressure for a reply.) ♡

None at the Moment

Your Thread Here!

Stuff That's Good to Know Before Starting a Thread

Here are a couple of posts that should probably be skimmed before starting an RP with Sam:

On Being Able to See/Sense Sam &/or Al

Why Plotting is Important with Sam

Links

Please keep in mind, this blog is an ongoing work in progress. Not all of these links may lead somewhere, but they're here because they link to potential tags for this muse.

All Things Sam

Headcanons

Drabbles

All Threads

Ask Replies

Meme Replies

Aesthetics

Face

Special Links

Original Blog

Return To Full Muse List

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yuniniverse · 7 months

Text

PAIRING ! ━ hunter x gn reader

GENRE ! ━ highschool au , strangers to friends to lovers ,tooth rotting fluff , slight angst but has a happy ending!

WORD COUNT ! ━ 1.64k

AUTHOR NOTE ! ━ first imagine on tumblr :"3 it's pretty big but lmk if y'all like it ^^

MASTERLIST

you lift your head to a chuckle, "i didn't know you noticed me or my marks?" He spoke with a slight hint of shyness in his tone. You smiled and spoke nothing else.

Papungkorn Lertkiatdamrong, the thai exchange student that had every girl swoon over the sight of him, including you.

after a long persuasive session with your friends, you finally admitted you fell for the n̶e̶w̶ cute guy.

you whip out your phone to text your best friend junghoon, f̶o̶r̶c̶i̶n̶g̶ asking him to come early so that you could spill the tea.

unaware to you, hunter felt the same.

Your heart flutters at the series of numbers and a 'by your hunter ;)'

"I love you so much y/n. You were always the girl I had my eyes on and it will always be you in every universe."

#hunter fluff #hunter xikers #park hunter #xikers hunter x reader #xikers fluff #xikers x reader #xikers imagines #xikers #hunter x reader #xikers drabbles #xikers fanfic #xikers reactions #xikers imagine

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greenninjagal-blog · 3 years

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The Rumor Mill Game (pt4)

I swear I didn’t forget about this au. This chapter is just....long.

Welcome back to this mess of an au :) If you need a refresher, you can find Part Three [here!] Or if you’re new check out the first part [here!]

Summary: Logan is...dealing with the fallout of him and his coworker, Remus, having created a rumor about them being married and now apparently having a kid except not because Logan screamed at the top of his lungs that Virgil wasn’t his kid. His boss has a different definition for what “dealing” actually means.

Words: 8292 (Holy shit remember when this au was 2k words)

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

When Logan had seen his boss after he made Virgil cry, he hadn’t expected it to end up like this.

Granted when he hadn’t exactly been expecting anything. He hadn’t been looking ahead, hadn’t been making plans, hadn’t been thinking at all. Which was most likely how he ended up outside the bar in the first place.

Logan could, of course, count the number of times he had been drunk on one hand. College had been a time for experimenting, and of course for his twenty-first birthday his friends at the time had been insistent that he needed to imbibe an unholy amount of alcohol in one night. They had turned it into an experiment, where Logan documented exactly what he was feeling after each drink and he still had the notes in his desk at home, despite the fact that his handwriting had become illegible after the fifth drink and someone had spilled an orange soda based tonic on the third page. The notes themselves were worthless, but they served as a memoir to people who he no longer associated with and a younger version of himself who had still been learning.

And Logan did have a soft spot for that imbecile: Twenty-one-year-old Logan Ackroyd who still believed in the goodness of people and who wanted to change the world and who could fall in lov--

Logan pitied him-- that kid he used to be-- which he was certain that his younger self would be indignant about. Logan always did hate when people pitied him. Those emotions had rarely ever been genuine, rarely ever been helpful, rarely been productive. What was he to do about people feeling bad for him? About others being disappointed? About others making assumptions about him and how he felt?

He didn’t need pity, and he didn’t want it. Not when he got rejected to his first three colleges, not when flunked that English class and had to pay to retake it the next year, not when he had bought that ring and gotten down on one knee and made a whole carefully edited speech and--

And he’s not nearly drunk enough to deal with these types of thoughts. Or any thoughts for that matter. Wouldn’t it just be great to stop thinking?

Then he wouldn’t have to remember the looks on his coworkers faces when he storming into the office less than fifteen minutes after initially leaving for lunch and demanded that Beatrice turn in her overdue spreadsheets in twenty minutes or he’d have her fired before slamming his office door hard enough to crack that frosted glass, or the look on Remus- fucking- Prince’s face when he tried to act like everything that had happened was not his fault and that Logan had taken the game to far by himself without any sort of prompting from Remus, or the look on Virgil’s face when Logan lost his self control.

Like an idiot. Like an asshole. Like someone who doesn’t think before he acts.

Like someone who should be alone for the rest of his life, because he can’t seem to get a hold of those useless emotions of his.

And Logan wanted so very badly to blame Remus Prince for this whole endeavor, the whole production, the whole catastrophe. He wanted to say that without Remus he never would have gotten that angry, wouldn’t have had that conversation, wouldn’t have even gotten Thai today.

Logan wanted to say that, but really it's his own fault. If he had just dismissed Remus’s rumor in the beginning, if he had just told Jen and Quin that his personal business was his own, if he had just ignored the urge to get coffee and finished the spreadsheets without getting up that last night.

His fourth finger itched around the base, the area where that little silver ring had been sitting for less than a day. It was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, because Logan had never worn a ring before and now suddenly the absence of it caused his skin to crawl in a most unpleasant, unproductive way.

Distantly Logan realized that by gifting Remus such a wonderful present, he had also thrown away four hundred dollars. And perhaps ironically Logan noted that he feels annoyed about it-- four hundred dollars had been sitting in a pocket of a dress jacket in the corner of his office for over nine months and he had tossed it aside in a fit of impulsive anger.

Logan had not been hurting for money recently, with how decently he was paid, and the amount of overtime he worked, and how little time he had taken off since that disastrous night.

But perhaps he might have been able to return it to the jewelers and weathered the terrible, awful pitying looks they would give him when he requested about their refund policy or a location where he might be able to sell it himself. It was a ring that was worth four hundred dollars and he had given it to Remus, and isn’t it funny that that’s farther than he got with the one for whom the ring had been originally intended?

And as Logan downed his next rum and coke of the night, he hoped that Remus found a better use for it. Newton knows it hadn't done any good for Logan.

(Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the way that he had screeched “He’s not and never will be our son!” Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the way that Remus had hummed mischievously “I think I enjoy being fake-married to you, Logan." Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the the way his last partner had said “We should see other people”. Its stupid, stupid, stupid--)

“Hmmm,” A voice behind him said, “I thought I would find you here!”

Logan didn’t realize he had closed his eyes until he heard the voice and felt every atom in his body figuratively threaten to combust. He wasn’t drunk enough to be thinking about him, and he most certainly wasn’t drunk enough to turn and look at the incessantly, perky man that had decided to sit down next to him.

Logan waved at the bartender and ordered another rum and coke and watched his freshly emptied glass disappear like the handful of others he didn’t bother to keep count of.

“And I’ll have two waters, please!” Patton Hart added with one of his peppy, happy, insufferable laughs, before turning to face Logan. “Hiya, Lo! It's been so long since we’ve seen each other!”

“Not long enough,” Logan disagreed, with a rueful smile that should very clearly, very precisely detail how much he does not want company at the current moment. “Don’t you have things to be doing tonight, Mr. Hart?”

Patton hummed, pressing his lips together as he thought-- a monumental task for someone like him, surely. Logan was partially convinced that if he removed his glasses he might be able to see the squirrels beginning to run on that rusted wheel in the other man’s brain. If Logan was of a less logical mind he might even be brazen enough to call this the first time Patton had used his brain all week.

“Well,” Patton said, carefully settling himself on the stool next to Logan. “I was graciously informed by my son that he would be enjoying the perks of being a teenager with no bedtime tonight and along with where exactly I could shove my homemade lasagna.” He laughed lightly, “Kids, these days! He really does keep me on my toes!”

Logan did his best not to roll his eyes. “I do not know the whereabouts of your son, Mr. Hart.”

“Patton,” He said easily, “And I’m not here for my son. I’m here for you, Logan.”

“If this is about the glass in my door, you are very capable of taking that out of my paycheck.” Logan told him.

The bartender placed Logan’s new rum and coke in front of him and he reached for it almost immediately, only stopping when Patton’s hand landed on his forearm.

“Mr. Hart--”

“Patton,” Patton corrected with that smile that Logan suspected was the worst thing in the world. Worse than Virgil’s blank expression when he told them to get out, worse than Remus’s smug one when he suggested that Logan did indeed enjoy the ability to manipulate his coworkers, worse than Beatrice faulty excel sheets, than broken glass of his door, than a ring he never wanted to see again and yet he still felt like it was missing from his finger.

“Mr. Hart,” Logan said again, “I am going to get horrifically drunk tonight, and I will be calling out sick tomorrow, regardless of what you say. So my advice to you is, say anything of importance now, before I am too incoherent to register and respond accordingly.”

“That doesn’t sound too smart there, kiddo!” Patton said, like he was any older than Logan was.

“I do not feel like being smart right now,” Logan said snippily. Because being smart involved thinking, and Logan had done quite enough thinking for the day. He was tired of thinking, tired of memories, tired of the lump in his chest that had formed during his lunch break and hadn’t dissolved in the eight hours since. He was tired.

“Would you like me to be smart for you?” Patton asked.

Ah.

Yes, Logan remembered suddenly with just a few words why he hated Patton Hart so much. Why he hated those too-wide brown eyes, those stupid freckles, that soft smile. Why he hated the way that Patton had tracked him down despite the fact that he had turned off his phone, the way that Patton had ordered two waters, the way that he hadn’t taken off his jacket. The way that he had taken out his keys and put them on the bar counter between them and Logan could pick out his own house key from the jumbled mess of bits and bobs.

“I heard something pretty interesting today,” Patton said, when Logan didn’t reply because he was too busy remembering why he hated Patton so much.

“Please don’t pretend like you didn’t know about my so-called affair before I did.” Logan snapped. “Honestly, Patton!” Logan dropped his arm from the glass and instead pressed his knuckles to his forehead. “Playing dumb about your own company is my least favroite thing about you.”

“I thought you hated my laugh the most.” Patton looked at him, letting the smile slip into something more serious.

“I hate everything about you.”

“Pay for the drinks, Lo.” Patton told him, “And I’ll take you home. We can have some of my lasagna and watch a space documentary, like we’re twenty years old again.”

Logan hated Patton and hated the way his chest ached at the offer. His knuckles bore into the side of his head, jabbing the frame of his own glasses into this temple. He hated the way that Patton was looking at him, soft and sweet and naive.

He hated the way his fingers itched to take Patton’s hand and go home.

“And after all that,” Patton continued so lightly, “You can tell me all about how Remus Prince got under your skin.”

Logan’s hand slammed on the counter, so suddenly he surprised himself. Patton, however, didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink, didn’t react other than to hold that smile.

“I am not drunk enough to be talking about Remus Prince,” Logan spat. “Especially not to you, Patton.”

Patton was quiet and at first, Logan really had thought that he had won something-- he thought that perhaps Patton would grant him mercy and let him drown his sorrows alone and miserable in a bar until he forgot his own name. But Patton was too good of a friend and Logan really should hate him less for that.

“You know,” Patton said with a cold type of humor that doused Logan with awareness. Bad awareness. The type of awareness that sunk it’s metaphorical claws into Logan’s chest and pierced straight through his heart before Patton finished what he was saying. “I think….yeah that does sound familiar. Do you remember the last time you said you weren’t drunk enough to tell me something?”

Logan did.

Logan couldn’t forget if he tried.

And he had tried so very hard for so very long-- except that Remus Prince had waltzed into Logan’s life, had called him a Robot, had smirked at him and run their coworkers around like cattle with pretty little words. Except that Remus Prince had gotten bored and decided that the only logical next course of action was to mess with Logan’s personal life.

Except that Remus Prince had played along with the rumor game, and smiled at him, and kissed him, and---

And Logan had started thinking---

And Logan’s mouth had started moving--

And Virgil face had--

Logan reached for the glass in front of him, reaching for the cool ice and the spritzy carbonation and the burn of the rum.

Patton watched him, blinking in the long, slow, dumb way of his that had fooled just about every person that he had come in contact with. With the goofy smile and the habit of deliberately misunderstanding key phrases and making puns and jokes when things were tense, it was hard to see him as anything other than a rich son who became CEO via thinly veiled nepotism.

Logan knocked back the drink, blinking back the burn behind his eyes that were from the alcohol and definitely not from the lump in his throat that had started dissolving.

He didn’t want to close his eyes, because he knew what he would see when he did: a nice suit, a fancy dinner, a walk to the bridge dotted with fairy lights of all things. He’d see that stupid ring, that stupid face, that stupid end of the night that everyone had told him would be nice, and perfect, and everything he would ever want!

And he didn’t want to think about how it had not been nice or perfect or anything either of them had ever wanted!

He didn’t want to think about how years ago he had come to a bar just like this, and tried to get so drunk he could pretend that it hadn’t happened, and Patton had shown up then and offered him a job and--

“He wants to go by Janus now,” Patton said, picking up one of the waters and taking a sip.

Logan squinted at him and tried not to be happy about the distraction from his own thoughts, “Who?”

“My son,” Patton said, like it was obvious he had switched back to a neutral topic. “He told me earlier during our phone call he wants to go by Janus, now. He said he’s hated the name Dante for forever. Can you believe it, Lo?”

Logan couldn’t actually. Because he had known Patton since they themselves were teenagers, since before Patton had brought up how empty being a CEO was without anyone to come home too, since Patton had first invited him to Sunday brunch and introduced him to the child he called “son”. Logan had babysat Dante when Patton had business trips and Dante had always been proud of himself, of his better-than-the-status-quo lifestyle, of his name that held power and prestige and weight.

Dante had been practicing saying his name in the mirror since before his voice cracked. Dante Hart, future CEO. Dante Hart, son of Patton Hart. Dante Hart.

“He’s a teenager,” Logan said, “He’s rebelling.”

“Maybe so!” Patton laughed, and it dwindled down to something that was easier felt in the air than definable in terms Logan was familiar with, “Gosh, I love him so much, Lo. My baby! He’s growing up so fast now! The other day he told me he had a boyfriend. He’s at that stage where he doesn’t want me to help him anymore!”

And despite the buffoon having not had a single drop of alcohol, Patton was tearing up. Logan gritted his teeth at the implications of a weepy, teary, so-full-of-emotions Patton. He had spent enough time in college trying to console him as he figured out the whole “Why does it always have to be about sex? Why can’t I just love hugging someone, Lo? Why does everyone make me feel so broken?” Logan hadn’t been any good back then, and he definitely hadn’t gotten better with time.

After that disaster with the last guy, Logan had decided that feeling things, frivolous things, emotion-like things, were not something he was into anymore.

Logan learned from his mistakes, after all.

Even the mistakes that started with “R” and ended in a $400 ring being thrown away.

“Is that why you’re here, Mr. Hart?” Logan asked, in that way of his that told even Patton with his squirrel run brain that it wasn’t actually a question at all. “You can’t baby your son anymore so you’ve moved on to the next best thing?”

Patton stuck his tongue in his cheek and set his water back down. “Patton.” He stressed. “And I’m not here to baby you, Logan. I’m here to be your friend.”

He said “friend” like it was a word in the dictionary Logan didn’t know. It was infuriating: the insinuation that Logan had never cracked open a dictionary before, that he was so unknowledgeable about the concept of a friend that Patton was about to show him the online Oxford dictionary definition, like someone who played dumb all day and peppered his windows with sticky notes in the shape of a game of Frogger knew more about something than Logan who had clawed his way up from nothing and was constantly needing to prove how he earned his position.

Patton nudged the second water in Logan’s direction.

Logan stared at it, at the condensation on the glass, at the ice cubes, at the refraction of the low lights from the bar counter. He stared at it like it was a portal back through time that would allow him to slam some sense into poor, pitiful twenty-one-years-old Logan before he let himself fall in Love.

Before he bought a ring or stopped taking days off unless Patton tromped down to his office himself. Before Remus Prince borrowed his cup and before Logan got it in his head that he was serving revenge rather than idiocracy. Before he let himself think too little and say too much and hurt a kid that had never deserved to be upset before in his life.

“If my son wants to be called Janus, I’ll call him that,” Patton says softly. “Because even if it doesn’t make sense to me, it means something to him. And even if my friend is struggling with emotions that don’t make sense to me, I’m still gonna try to help him, Lo.”

Patton ducked his head just a little, just enough that he managed to catch Logan’s strategically averted gaze and make something out of it: a swell of guilt, a sense of hope, a pinch of safety and unadulterated kindness.

His throat was dry, but it was the type of dry that couldn’t be fixed with a glass of water.

“I made a kid cry,” Logan said, because self loathing is a coat he had thought he’d outgrown but he can still fit his arms in the sleeves.

Patton nodded. “Yeah, I heard about that.” He sipped his water. “I think we all have at one point or another.”

“See, the distinct difference that you are missing here, Patton, is that you are a father.” Logan snapped, “And your son will cry at the drop of a hat if he thinks he can get something out of it. And you would never harm a child! Not for any reason in the entire world!”

“And you would?”

“I did.” Logan felt himself sink into the chair, sink like an anchor in the ocean, sink like the floor below him had turned into a blackhole. “I did, I did it. What type of person does that make me?”

“I hate to break it to you, Lo,” Patton said, as kindly as he could, which Logan knew was truly, sickenly nice. He wanted to choke on the sentiment but he found that he couldn’t quite make his chest hurt the way he wanted it too when it came to Patton’s pity.

“But that just means you’re a normal person.” Patton smiled dumbly, tilting his head and shrugging. “Everyone says things they don’t mean sometimes.”

“You don’t.”

“I do,” Patton countered gently, “Like when I hired Beatrice before realizing that she had lied about knowing how to use Excel.”

“Fuck, Beatrice,” Logan agreed, because if he closed his eyes too hard he thought he might still see grid patterns as much as he might see Virgil’s hurt expression and he hated it so much. So much.

“I also told-- Janus once that I would get him anything he wanted for his birthday, and he asked for a snake.” Patton shuddered, almost comically, “And you saw how that turned out.”

“I’ve always been impressed with his ability to sneak things into the school buildings,” Logan sighed. “I doubt anyone has ever forgotten that Show-and-Tell.”

Patton chuckled quietly. It was almost lost in the buzz of the other patrons in the bar. He drew a smiley face in the condensation on his glass and Logan reached over to wipe it away, like he had done a hundred seventeen times since college.

“So….Lasagna?” Patton offered. “We can make some garlic bread too.”

“I regret ever meeting you,” Logan said, even as he picked up the keys on the counter between them. He wished that Patton didn’t look so self satisfied, so pleased, so smug when the words tumbled from his lips, but Patton had never been one to pertain to the wishes and whims of Logan like that.

Settling his tab was quick; a pile of bills from his wallet that he didn’t actually check, but decided the bartender deserved anyway and then Patton linked their elbows together so that Logan couldn’t walk off the way that he used to when he would agree with Patton just to get him to shut up. Logan snagged Patton’s glasses from his head and fogged them up with his breath, before taking on the tedious task of cleaning the fingerprints off the lens meticulously while walking in a wobbling straight line.

Patton laughed like silver bells and it alone brightened the entire street with a type of magic that Logan had long since given up on trying to scientifically explain. The poet in him that Logan had buried under Calculus classes and Statistics courses and a Business degree and only let out when the alcohol out weighed the blood in his system, whispered that it was because it was Patton and his aloofness, and his kindness, and his generosity that never made any sense, and wasn’t that reason enough for the universe to lighten up?

It was drizzling outside, scattered raindrops and dark heavy clouds that whispered of a thunderstorm later. Patton skipped, Logan rolled his eyes and let himself be dragged towards the familiar pale blue punch buggy. It was the same exact car from their college time together, if one ignored the frankenstein replacements of just about every single component in it. Patton clung to the car the same way he had clung to the delusion of Logan being a good friend; sticking close through every breakdown, excusing every letdown, and spending far too much money on it when economically it would have been more beneficial to just let them go.

A wave of self loathing wrapped over Logan again when he pulled on the car door. Patton was genuinely a good person, a good friend. He was stupid at times and he made decisions that made Logan was to strangle him, but he cared so much more than other people. He offered fourth and fifth chances when Logan would have stone-walled his offender at one.

Not to mention, he had come out in the rain to find Logan specifically, probably traversing through three other bars to find the one that Logan had chosen to be his misery echo chamber.

By some sort of lucky happenstance, Logan had originally walked far enough to hail a taxi to get to this bar, leaving his car in the safety of the parking garage where Patton’s company paid a nice sum for security. Logan had tried to argue about that expense with him back in the day, but Patton had pulled out a picture of his toothy grinning son-- Janus-- and said “Lo!! What if my son comes to visit when he learns to drive?! I don’t want to worry about him getting attacked in the parking garage!”

Logan had brutally pointed out that his son would never visit him during work, and so far he had been correct in that assessment, but that didn’t stop him from feeling the slightest bit guilty about his bluntness even so much time later.

Patton had always looked for the best in people, had more strength than most of humanity, had more hope in happy endings that Logan had trust in fact and numbers.

“Is your son okay with me calling him Janus? I’m unsure of etiquette on this. Should I wait until he tells me his preference or should I just make the switch and not bring it up to him?” Logan asked with a sigh as Patton pulled out of the parking spot and set them towards Patton’s house on the other side of town. Unobstructed and following the driving laws, it would only take them about fifteen minutes, and yet Logan wondered about the possibility of Patton having Advil in the car.

The back of his head was already aching from the days events: banging his head on the keyboard all morning leading up to his disastrous lunch date, Remus, Virgil, squinting at spreadsheets until he couldn’t make out the numbers anymore, and the of course stumbling his way to the bar and dealing with Patton.

Patton giggled. “Oh yeah! I asked him earlier if it was okay to tell you. He said he wanted you to call him Janus now. He also said to tell you, you can take a hike.”

Knowing Janus, it was probably something more volatile than “taking a hike”. Most likely it had been something that might have required him to put a full five dollars in the swear jar that they kept on the counter next to the cookie jar. Not that it would matter much. Logan had stayed over at their house dozens of times and every single time he had come across Janus taking that money back out of that swear jar.

As far as Logan was aware, the swear jar had never actually been full. Patton must have noticed at some point-- probably that very first time Janus had taken the money back out-- but he was irritating insistent that he play dumb about it. Thus, Janus continued to swear in excess, Patton continued to make him put money in a swear jar for no real reason, and Logan continued to never understand either of them.

The radio in Patton’s car had been broken fifteen times since Patton had gotten it, but Logan assumed from the silence of the drive that it was now sixteen. He rested his elbow on the window and watched the drizzle turn into a steady rain and the windshield wipers flutter across their vision to occasionally bring them clarity.

The night life was somewhat dreary. The driving pace was slow, and they hit every single stop light in the city because that was just Logan’s luck. There were a few people running around in the rain: a family with a small child who was jumping in every slowly forming puddle on the sidewalk, a couple sharing an umbrella walking so close together they appeared as if to be one misshapen form, a group of friends chatting outside a 24 hour dinner in raincoats, and a few smokers huddled under an alcove with embers burning just enough for Logan to make out their forms through the downpour.

Logan realized almost immediately that the pit in his stomach was much more bearable if he instead focused on the raindrops on the window that are much easier to look at, much less representing something that Logan had always expected he might one day have, much less accusatory in wondering what is wrong with him that he can’t act like a normal human being, this isn’t working, who wants to marry a robot like you--

That was the reason why he wasn’t expecting the sudden jerk of the car coming to a hard stop at a yellow light that they absolutely could have made.

“PATTON!” Logan yelled.

The car behind them blared it’s horn and Logan rubbed his neck and reset his glasses from the sudden movement, ready to question what exactly Patton thought he was doing, because truly of all the things Logan was not in the mood for, this was one of them.

Except that before Logan could get any words out, Patton had put the car in park and whipped off his seatbelt to kick open his door. A wave of rain came pouring into the car as the man threw himself from the driver's seat like there was something wrong with the car, and for a second Logan entertained the absurd idea that they were going to blow up.

Which truly, would have just been a fitting end to his horrific day.

“Patton!” Logan hissed, grabbing after the other’s coat to pull him back inside before the rain soaked into the seats. “Get back in th--”

The other man ignored him, frantically waving to someone in the rain. “REMUS!! MR. PRINCE!! OVER HERE!!”

If Logan knew slightly less about human biology he might have been inclined to say that his heart jumped straight to his throat and climbed its way up his esophagus to strangle him. He wouldn’t have recognized the figure on the street corner on his own: Remus Prince was wearing a black leather jacket and jeans with holes in the knees. He was soaked to the bone, without an umbrella, and his usual bouncy brown curls were matted to his head, as if he had been walking out in the rain for much longer than the rain had been sweeping through the city.

He was standing with the smokers under their minimal tarp, although he, himself, was without a cigarette at all. When he turned at the call of his name, there was only confusion and exhaustion in his face. None of the smugness, or the ego, or the energy that he usually had.

Logan didn’t know why that bothered him. He was hurting from earlier; that was good.

After all, it was Remus’s ridiculous game that he had dragged everyone else into.

((Logan’s finger itched and he dug his nails into his skin so deeply he was afraid to glance down in case there was blood pouring off hands.))

Remus ventured out to meet them, dodging across the lanes of traffic without a care in the world, or perhaps with a death wish. Remus didn’t seem particularly like he would mind getting run over by the way that he opened the back door, climbed in, and shook the excess water out in the interior of the car like some type of undomesticated dog.

“Is this a kidnapping?” He asked, rain dripping down his face. “A murder? Do I get to know your name before you dismember me, cutie?”

Patton laughed joyfully, even as Logan felt his face screw up at the sound of Remus calling their boss “cutie”. It was beyond unprofessional, even if Remus was apparently unaware that his career hinged entirely on not insulting Patton. It took a lot to make Patton angry enough to fire someone-- his patience was the best and worst thing about him, as Logan had been reminded every time they interacted-- but once Remus crossed that line, not even a cockroach like him would be able to drag himself out of the metaphorical wasteland Patton would make out of his life.

Cutie, honestly. Who calls anyone they’ve just met cutie. Logan could understand Remus having called him Lovebug and Lolo, but cutie?

For Patton?

Patton climbed back into the car, snapping on his seatbelt and managed to get out of park at the very same moment as the light turned green. He wiped his sleeve along his glasses, and brightly said, “I’m Patton! And you already know Logie here!”

“Logie?” Remus repeated, sitting back against the seat taking in Logan for the first time. “Oh shi--”

“Do not call me that,” Logan said. “Patton, you can drop me off at the next corner. I will walk home.”

“Don’t be silly!” Patton said, in the same tone that he had used during their college days to coax Logan into driving him to the nearest grocery store after he had successfully managed to pull two all nighters in a row. Logan hated that tone, and Patton knew that well.

“If you do not stop the car, I will throw myself from it while it is still moving.”

“I can get out, actually!” Remus said far too loud for the small car. Logan resisted the urge to turn around and scowl at him. Surely, his pea-sized brain had managed to figure out that he was the point of contention here and that his best move would be to shut up, so why had he decided to open his mouth? “I need to get home anyway. Big day tomorrow and everything.”

“Oh?” Patton said delightedly because Logan would not ever play into subject changes willingly. “What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m getting fired,” Remus said with a nonchalant shrug.

Patton blinked for a moment-- his squirrel-run brain jamming at the sudden twist of the words because whatever he was expecting from his visitor it was not that. Logan resisted the urge to reach over and give him a shake at the shoulders: of course he wouldn’t be able to expect anything with Remus Prince. The man was insufferable and illogical and he wrought chaos for fun.

With everything that had happened, did Patton really think that there was an exaggeration in there?

Remus wanted attention. And he said whatever he needed to in order to get it: a fake affair, a fake divorce, a fake child-- Of course he would say he was getting fired tomorrow if it got Patton to have to use all of his meager brain cells to figure out how serious he was.

“Is that something to celebrate, Mr. Prince?” Logan cut in coldly. “Getting fired?”

“And here I thought that you would be happy, Ackroyd,” Remus said. “Unless you think you’re going to miss me.”

“If only I would be so lucky,” Logan said, digging his phone from his pocket, and turning it back on. The screen was blindingly bright and Logan’s eyes ached just glancing at it in the corner of his vision. “Patton, pull over. I am not doing this tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever again.”

“I’m not going to let you walk home after however many rum and cokes you had, Logan.”

“Patton,” Logan snarled. “If you continue to treat me like you treat your son, I will tender my resignation tonight. Pull over now.”

Patton opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was swallowed up in Remus’s empty voice speaking.

“You went drinking?”

“Do not talk to me, Mr. Prince.”

“You’re not even yelling.”

Logan wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, which may have irritated him more than the fact that he was so insistent about continuing to talk when Logan was liable to push the car to crash and kill all three of them. Remus was already staring at him, his expression dark and serious in the passing car lights and somehow Logan thought that he looked vulnerable.

Logan gritted his teeth as his headache pulsed behind his eyes.

“Shut up,” he said. “And put on your seat belt.”

“Or what? You’ll divorce me?” Remus pushed forward between the seats until he was just a few inches from Logan’s own face, grinning with all his teeth. It was at once the same smile that Logan had catalogued through every week of working with him and also something completely foreign.

Remus had pulled him into a kiss earlier that morning, and Logan remembered the taste of pickles on his lips just as well as the smirk he kept as Logan walked away. But this expression is somehow inverted, somehow shifted, somehow a weapon more than a challenge.

“Boys,” Patton said. “Please don’t fight in my car!”

“If you did not want us to fight, why did you invite him in this car?” Logan asked. “You, of all people, know my opinions on--”

“Logan, you’re drunk.”

“What does that have to do with this?!” Logan bit out. He glared at his phone: there were three missed calls from Patton and a handful of text messages from him that Logan couldn’t actually read in the combination of the bright phone light and darkness around them. His eyes were blurry even with his glasses on and the frustration of not being able to read only heightened as he made out the notification for his email which meant that Beatrice had managed to finish her work (allowing Logan to be able to go fix it) or that news of him yelling at a child made it around the office and now he was going to harassed by them as well.

All because of Remus Prince’s inability to shut up.

Patton threw a hand out and grabbed Logan’s phone from his hand and carelessly tossed it over both their shoulders to Remus.

“Patton!” Logan hissed, rubbing the irritated tears from his eyes. “Remus, give it back!”

Remus, however, was just staring at the phone in his lap like it was some type of bomb. Logan’s phone locked itself and the screen went dark, and still Remus sat inhumanely still in the seat, staring at it, with a type of blank expression that Logan oftentimes related to their coworkers when Logan asked them to perform any sort of math without a calculator.

“Remus,” Logan said again.

Remus jerked at the sound of his voice, snapping out of whatever fit the phone had put him in almost meekly-- if Logan could describe anything Remus did as meekly without it being a blatant falsehood. “Meekly” itself had never seemed to be a word in Remus’s vocabulary which was another irritating fact about him that made Logan break out in figurative hives.

Logan knew how Remus was.

He knew Remus.

It didn’t matter that he had never talked to Remus before today, that his thinly veiled contempt for his coworkers kept him from being willing to stand in their presence more than he was being paid to, that this fake affair was the first stupid relationship of any kind he had gotten outside of Patton and his son since his last boyfriend had dumped him on the night he was going to propose and hadn’t he thought he’d known him too? Isn’t that what led to all this?

It didn’t matter.

Logan was smarter, now. Logan was better now. Logan was--

“I don’t…” Remus said, trailing off as he stared at the messages popping up on Logan’s phone and Logan wondered why it felt like his lungs had shrunk right in his chest. “I don’t think you should be reading these right now.”

“He definitely should not!” Patton said, with a very convincing amount of forced happiness. “Hold that for him will you, Remus? Oh and why do you think you’re going to get fired tomorrow?”

Remus looked up at Logan and then at Patton and then back at Logan, like Logan was supposed to know what that meant in addition to every other stupid look he’d given Logan all evening. Logan shoved his glasses up to his hairline and rubbed his aching eyes, and yet somehow that still didn’t fix the pounding in his head or the exhaustion hollowing out his bones. It also didn’t make Remus disappear from the backseat, which was equally annoying, even though Logan hadn’t truly thought he was a shared apparition for him and Patton.

“You didn’t mention anything about today to your… what are you a fuck buddy?” Remus said.

And Patton laughed.

Logan grabbed the door handle and yanked on it, but of course the ridiculous safety locks were engaged, and Logan had spent far too many sober years getting locked in this car to try to puzzle out the broken locking system in order to drunkenly throw himself out of the car. He was not in the habit of wishing for miracles, or even believing in deities, but he imagined that some powerful entity was finding ruining Logan’s life to be semi enjoyable.

“See this is why I can’t fire him!” Patton said through giggles and Logan thought maybe he was being addressed for this. Patton met Remus’s gaze through the rearview mirror and shook the last bit of water from his damp hair. “You make everything so entertaining!”

“What?”

Logan grit his teeth and yanked on the door handle again. “Remus, meet Mr. Hart, the CEO and your boss. Also put on your seatbelt.”

Remus blinked at them both, leaning between the seats and definitely not putting on his seatbelt. Logan counted backward from ten, reminding himself that one of the hiring requirements for Patton’s company has always been must be the stupid beyond belief. He’d known for a while that his coworkers were idiots on a good day, hazards to his health on bad ones, and yet somehow in the whirlwind of the day he’s had, Logan had forgotten that Remus counted as a coworker still.

“I’m not… getting fired?” Remus said, acting much like a computer after being turned on. “Why do you know my name then?”

Patton shrugged, flicking on his blinker to change lanes before the next light. “You have interesting ideas for your advertising strategy! Of course I would know your name! I’m sorry about vetoing that last one. I know Logan liked it, but I wanted to stick to the family-as-a-whole angle.”

“Patton,” Logan warned with an edge.

“Logan liked…?” Remus echoed, before turning towards Logan with a look of bewilderment that annoyed Logan far more than it had any right to. “You actually look at my shit?”

“Put on your seatbelt, Remus,” he said, because wasn’t it obvious that Logan looked at his things? Before the whole Robot incident Logan hadn’t had a problem with Remus at all: he was effective and efficient and the rumors were irritating but below him to indulge in. Before Remus had dragged him figuratively kicking and screaming into this mess, Logan approved the budgets that came with the projects Remus created.

He still did that, just with more anger than before. Petty feelings for Remus himself aside, his work was objectively good.

Logan knew that about him.

“So!” Patton said over both of them, with his signature grin that Logan suspected he would still be wearing even if Logan decided to kill him right now. It must be the by-product of being controlled by rodents running on a wheel. “How was your volunteer work Remus?”

Remus froze in the back seat, going unnaturally still again. “Are you some kind of stalker-- uh sir?”

“Will you knock that off?” Logan snapped, which only made Remus’s shoulders jump straight to his ears. “And put on your seatbelt.”

“Just curious!” Patton said, ignoring Logan entirely. “Darlene is a good friend of mine! I make sure to send monthly donations to the organization since I don’t have a lot of free time to jump over and help.”

Remus didn’t say anything to that. He swallowed audibly and leaned back against the seat, dragging fingers through his wet hair and then tucked his arms in his own armpits. Logan pressed a palm to his forehead watching the street lights bend from behind his eyelids because that was easier than staring at Remus act like Patton was trying to pull his teeth out.

“You actually do volunteer work?” Logan said. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“Ha,” Remus said without any inflection. Logan thought that was the quietest that he had ever been. Where was that stupid ass smirk? Where was the stubbornness that pushed back against everything? Where was that loud voice and that confidence?

“Put on your seatbelt,” Logan said again.

“Why do you care if I wear the belt or not?”

“Remus put on your seatbelt or, so help me Newton, I will climb back there and put it on for you, myself!”

The air simmered from the acid in his tone, making the silence figurative chafe against his ribs. Remus stared at him, blinking slowly, with the street lights casting roving shadows on his face. His dark eyes were just so-- so--

Logan dug his nails into his palm. Why was it Remus Prince could make him feel like this? What gave him the right?

“It’s okay!” Patton said, setting the car to park. “We’re here anyway!”

Logan reached up and pulled his glasses back onto his face properly, but it still took him a moment to realize that they were near a bunch of townhouses, double parked outside one that Logan had considered moving into all those years ago when he had first been looking for an apartment for after college.

Remus too, apparently needed a moment to recognize the area. “We… are at my apartment? Holy shit, you are a stalker.”

Patton giggled, flashing Remus with his blinding smile and reached back to pick up Logan’s phone from his hands. “Thank you so much, kiddo! We’ll wait until you get inside all safe and sound, and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“You will not,” Logan said. “Tomorrow you have a business deal two hours away to complete and if you miss it--”

Patton stretched back in his seat and let out a hugely exaggerated yawn. “But they’re so boring! Maybe I should bring Janus with me. He always makes my business deals entertaining. I love when he sets his snake on people. He looks so happy and he laughs and--”

Logan squeezed his eyes closed and recited the first twenty digits of pi in his head to keep from grabbing Patton’s squirrel run brain and slamming it into the steering wheel.

“Homicide is wrong,” Logan said.

“I’ll help you vouch for insanity,” Remus said. “I mean, tied together through a murder, and possibly hiding a body is much more juicy than a fake marriage that’s falling apart. We’d be the talk of the office.”

“They would not find any body that I hid,” Logan said. “Nobody would.”

Remus opened his mouth to say something more, but whatever it is he decided against it. Instead he slid over the seats and kicked open the door right behind Logan and stepped out into the night air.

“Thanks for the ride, Mr. Hart, sir,” he said, strangely formal, then squinted and added, “Daddy?”

“I’m not firing you, Remus,” Patton said. “No matter what you call me!”

Logan ran his tongue over his teeth counting each and every one. Remus looked at him but ultimately finally adhered to that whole shutting up thing. He closed the door to Patton’s blue punch buggy and started towards the door to the apartments.

“Oh,” Remus said, and turned back at the last second. He knocked his knuckles on Logan’s window a few inches from where Logan’s gaze fixed itself on a light. Patton apparently knew more about what to do than Logan because he pressed the window lowering button and Remus reached his entire arm into the window to drop a small object right into Logan’s lap.

Logan caught it mainly due to reaction rather than skill and his skin tingled at the familiar item. Even in the dark, Logan’s fingers roll over the shape of the ring that had always reminded him of the worst day of his life. It was still warm from being in Remus’s pocket.

“I think that should stay with you,” Remus said, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. “You know… for the next boytoy you take to your sex dungeon or whatever nerds like you do on weekends.”

And then he turned around and fled towards the apartment building. Patton turned off the hazard lights and slipped back into traffic and Logan wondered if he would be polite enough to not comment if Logan started crying right then and there.

His throat felt swollen, his tongue too big for his mouth, and the headache thrummmmmmed painfully.

Logan knew Remus Prince.

“You know that Remus Prince isn’t gonna be like him,” Patton said to fill the silence.

“Remus Prince isn’t like anyone.” Logan didn’t whine. To whine would be unbecoming. And childish. And embarrassing.

So Logan didn’t whine and Patton mercifully didn't call him out on his not-whining.

And neither of them mention the choked tone that Logan had for the rest of the night.

When Logan had seen his boss after he made Virgil cry, he hadn’t expected it to end up with him clutching that ring like a lifeline, but as he ran his fingers around the rim, he wondered if it had fit on Remus’s finger at all.

(Part Five)

#intrulogical #sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #Far too many OCs gross #Rumor Mill Au #rumors #well fake marriage #sympathetic remus #Logan is bad at feelings #so bad #now with more logan angst #Patton is a good friend #This au is so old that I called Janus Dante and I decided to fix that #alcohol #drunk logan

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