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a1307s · 4 months

Text

Artwork #2

(Garfield Logan Smut)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to Exegaytioner]

Requested by: Liviejc

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 6,063

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Sorry it took so long; it’s been a mix of the holiday and a bit of writers block

Pet Name Used (Bunny)

Biting

Slight degrading

Begging

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It's been a couple of months since I walked in on Y/N painting her wall. Since then, I've been a little attached to her. We spend a lot of time together, whether that's me watching her work on different art projects, or Y/N watching her show as I game, or just sitting in each other's presence.

Over this time, I've learned a bit about her, but not as much as I'd like. She's a 'freak accident', like I am; like most of the team is. Other than that, I don't know anything about her, but it seems there's not much to know. I will say that kind of explains her hatred for her shifting color schemes.

The most recent activity we do together has been napping. Y/N always gets excited about her afternoon nap. She has issues sleeping alone which means her napping makes up most of her daily sleep. She used to nap with Nightwing but most days he'd be too busy for it, so she'd miss out. Y/N did end up asking me to nap with her instead. I answered yes, a little quicker than I meant.

I won't admit it to anyone, but I've started growing feelings for her, which have only gotten worse over time. We used to just nap. Well, Y/N would nap, and I would lay next to her. Then we started making out before she'd nap. Now we make out before and after she naps.

I enjoy it. I like her rubbing up on me and kissing me. I like the dark crimson color that coats her lips after we kiss. I like her. All that doesn't help my denial.

Y/N on the other hand, I have no clue how she feels about it. You would figure with the whole 'hue of her skin matches her emotions' it would be easy to tell how Y/N feels. Well, when you don't know what the different colors and hues mean, it doesn't!

It also doesn't help that the only thing I ever see her in is that dumb white cloak of hers. Given, her hood is never up anymore - unless we're on a mission. She's more loose about letting her arms show too, but with how big the sleeves are they tend to cover her more than they don't.

When Y/N naps, she's usually curled up, so her ankles end up showing. Sometimes her cloak parts and shows a bit of her thighs. It makes me feel like a Victorian boy. 'Oh, her ankles! How sinful of me to look at such things!'

I have asked Y/N a few times about our kisses. How she feels about them and such. Usually, she ignores me. The few times she has answered haven't been very nice. Her answer is usually something like 'You tolerate my naps, so I tolerate your kisses'. I don't want her to tolerate our makeouts. I want her to want them. I want her to want me.

I have talked about our situation with Nightwing, and he usually helps. How he's explained it is that Y/N struggles with expressing emotions. Weird to think about since her powers are linked to her emotions, but not knowing much about her leaves a lot of room for speculation. However, seeing how she lives at the mountain like a lot of us, assumptions are easy to place.

Like every afternoon, Y/N is curled up against me, fast asleep. Her back is pressed up against my side and her head is resting on my arm. My other arm is thrown across the bed, forgotten. Y/N won't sleep if she's not touching me in some way, but at the same time, she doesn't like being touched a lot. It makes for a weird balance. Too much touching and she can't stay asleep, too little touching and she also can't stay asleep.

She's cute when she sleeps, and not angry which is always a plus. She gets angry pretty quickly, but I'm not that surprised. Y/N just happens to have the same hair-trigger temper that Conner does.

The thought of glancing under her cloak flickers through my head. That would be perverted and wrong... but, she is sleeping in my bed so it couldn't be too bad... right? No. Nope. That's wrong.

I shift away from her, putting a bit of space between the two of us as I shake the thoughts out of my head. If I want to see her coloring that bad, I can just ask. The worst she can say is no, right? Or... it could put us back to square one again. Put us back to barely talking and her walls shooting back up.

Y/N whimpers a bit, turning over so her head is on my shoulder now, her arms - exposed - resting on my chest, and her front pressed up against me. I watch as her skin shifts from milky white to a soft pink. The color blotches over her arms and the exposed part of her chest that comes in contact with me.

I'm not too surprised by this. Usually when Y/N wakes up the side of her face is this soft bubble gum pink color from where she was pressed into my arm. Even at this moment, her cheek is decorated in the coloring, though it's starting to fade back to white now that she has switched sides. I enjoy watching her colors shift, it's relaxing.

Some of Y/N's coloring is obvious. The dark red, almost black means she's mad and is usually paired with matching tight curls. When her hair is short, fuzzy - and usually grey - it means she didn't sleep too well, which also means Y/N will have an even shorter temper than usual. Yellow - the bright one, not the washed-out one; I don't know what the washed-out coloring is yet - means she's happy. How bright it is shows how happy she is. Other than that, the rest of the coloring is still a mystery.

I stay like this, watching the pink spotting get darker the longer she lays against me. I wonder what the pink means. To me, pink is the color of love. Maybe she does like me and just doesn't know it. However, I have seen her turn pink while working on her art and while reading and such. Those things can't exactly bring feelings of love... I don't think.

Maybe I should get a feelings chart. That might help my situation. Especially since I'm not sure if every feeling has a different color or if it's more of an umbrella thing. I'm pretty sure it's an umbrella thing... maybe.

Y/N shifts, pulling my attention back to her. Her head picks up, eyes open this time. They're milky white, like the rest of her, for a second. Soon they shift to her bright yellow with flickers of pink through them. God, what does the pink mean?

"Good morning, Garfield," she says, dipping her head back to my shoulder as she shifts herself on top of me. I tense a bit as Y/N slides into my lap, her legs bent at my sides, her arms draping themselves over my shoulders and her chest pressed into mine. She sits like this all the time, after every nap, in the middle of every day. It shouldn't be any different today, but it does feel different. It's probably because I was deep-diving into my thoughts today.

"How'd you sleep?" I ask, placing my hands on her thighs. What color are my handprints under her cloak? Are they pink? Yellow? Are her inner thighs littered with blotches from where they press into me? I want to know so bad. Y/N just hums in response, shifting her head onto my neck instead of my shoulder.

Once again, she falls still, her soft breathing coating my neck and making my nerves spark. I think I just need something new for us. Something more than just our makeouts. Something to let me know Y/N enjoys this instead of seeing it as a chore.

I slide my hands around some, my fingers curling around the edges of her cloak that has parted a bit from her position. My eyes stay locked on the ceiling as I tip my fingertips over the hem, barely coming in contact with her bare skin. It's silent for a beat, the warmth of her skin sliding up my fingers, but the silence doesn't stay long. "Don't do that," Y/N says, her fingers sliding down and wrapping around mine to pull my hand away. She lays it back in its usual spot, gently placed on top of her thigh, over her cloak.

So much for something new, something to prove that she enjoys whatever the hell this is. Y/N's head tilts back up, her eyes now their ashy grey. Besides the angry red color, grey is the most used color on Y/N. Her eyes, skin, and hair, are all grey when we go on a mission. Unlike her sleepiness, when we're on a mission her hair is pin-straight and long. I don't know what the grey means. Maybe focus. What is she focusing on right now? Is focus even an emotion? I don't think so.

Her head tilts some, eyes slowly melting back to the yellow and pink from before, her hair doing the same. I'll take that as a good sign. Happiness is always good, even if I don't know what it's paired with. Y/N's fingers are soft and airy as they slide up my neck, stroking my cheeks as she cups my face. She bends down, her lips sliding over my skin for a second before finding a new place to butterfly a kiss too. Maybe she does enjoy our kisses, why else would she be so gentle? So soft? Her lips trail over my face, leaving their warmth across my nose, my eyes, my forehead, my jaw, anywhere she can reach.

My hands slide backward, jumping over her butt to slide around her back. I feel so loved, and so cared for when Y/N starts our kisses like this. If she doesn't feel anything for me, how could she make me feel this way? How could she push so much love out in these little touches if she doesn't care about me too?

"Y/N?" I ask, my words coming out softer than I meant them to.

"Garfield?" She whispers back, her lips sliding against the corner of my mouth, making my heart rate rise and blood rush down my body. It's annoying. This is annoying. I hate feeling so in love, so needy for her, just for nothing to ever happen outside of the few minutes before and after she sleeps. Outside of this, Y/N rarely lets me touch her, and the one time I tried to kiss her, I got a broken nose and a week of her being skittish. No naps during that week too which meant no kisses either.

I gently slide my hands up Y/N's body, sliding them up her shoulder and cupping her face. I tilt her back, so her eyes are focused on me instead of her kisses. She looks so pretty, her back arched, her cloak opened some, showing me the top of her chest, the soft blue of her bra poking out a bit. This isn't helping my rushing blood or my thoughts. I can't touch her thighs, but I can see down her top? She's half awake, I doubt she knows this is what she looks like.

I rub my fingers across her cheeks like Y/N has been doing to me. Soft streaks of pink are littered across her face, from where she's rubbed up against me. The paths of my thumbs are darker pink from the constant contact. Why do my fingers leave a pink spot, but her lips are red when we kiss? If I kiss other parts of her, will those turn pink? Or red?

"Do you like our kisses?" I ask, trying to focus on her eyes but instead, my eyes keep dropping down her top and rising back up to her lips.

Y/N shifts, her back going straight as she sits up, and her knees tightening around my sides. I'm a bit disappointed at the shift, the beautiful scene is gone now, but I can't complain much. The added pressure to my groin feels nice, teasing even. She shifts more, pressing into the half-hard situation in my pants for a second, her eyes wandering around the room. This is getting heated quicker than usual. All the build-up from the last few weeks looming over us, threatening to snap if Y/N keeps rubbing up on me like this. I place my hands on her hips, keeping her in place. Maybe not the best placement, but her being still is better than her adding friction.

"I don't mind them," she answers, wiggling out of my hold and lying back down next to me.

That pisses me off. Y/N is not dumb, she's a very smart girl, so she has to know touching me like this has some kind of effect. She has to know normal people don't nap and have heated make-out sessions with their friends. And what does she mean? She 'doesn't mind them'? What the hell Y/N?

I look over at her, watching the pink on her skin fade back to white. Watching it helps me calm down a bit. It always relaxes me when I get to watch her shift. "Y/N?" I call again at a normal tone this time, as I slide my hand back to its place on her thigh. I massage it softly, debating if I should try to dip it down again.

"Garfield?" Y/N answers again, her head turning towards me. Her eyes are starting to shift to red, the same crimson red her lips usually are by now. Is she mad at me for touching her? She sounds pretty calm compared to how she usually is when she's mad. Maybe she isn't mad.

"Do you not like me kissing you?" I ask, giving into my want and dipping my fingertips down, toying with Y/N's inner thighs.

"I don't... not like it," she answers, turning her head away from me. I watch, waiting for a reaction, but I don't get one.

"So... you do like them?" I push, sliding closer to her. I'm leaning over Y/N's face, hovering barely over her, and slide my fingers down slightly lower, the hem of her cloak coming into contact with my fingers again.

Y/N's eyes are wide, mostly grey with flickers of red throughout them, her skin doing the same. Her body is a bit stiff, and her chest jumps faster than normal. Is she nervous or scared? Maybe both? "Umm... I guess so," she answers, her legs closing and squeezing my hand between them.

She guesses so? She doesn't know? The anger from earlier bubbles up again. I want Y/N to know she wants me, I want her to be as needy for me as I am for her, I want her to voice her thoughts and feelings about me.

"Y/N?" My voice rings out, my fingers curling around her cloak again. I just need something, anything from her to let me know she feels somewhat good about this, about our kisses, about whatever relationship we have. I move her cloak, moving the fabric up her legs so her inner thighs are exposed to me.

"Garfield," she breathes out, her skin and eyes redder than grey as I slide over her warm skin, her cloak now covering both my hand and her thigh. Her skin is smooth, soft, and hopefully colorful. I like Y/N's voice like this, I want to hear her say my name like that again.

My name ringing in my ears makes my pants tighter, the half-hard-on is now a full-blown-hard-on. "I want to see your coloring," I tell her, gently parting her legs some so I can move my hand easier. The small circles I've been pushing into her skin have left a red ring on her skin. Is that good or bad? Is Y/N enjoying this or not?

"You... what?" She asks, her voice still light, her head tilted down some so our eyes are connected. Y/N's eyes are fully red now, and her mouth is slightly parted. Is she horny? Is that what's happening? I mean, she looks horny. Picked up breathing, wide eyes, parted lips.

My head falls to the side as I lean down, connecting our lips as my eyes snap shut. Y/N's lips feel soft and plump against my own. She tastes like honey, a leftover flavor from her tea this morning. It's not long before her mouth falls open, giving me access before I even have the chance to ask for it.

I let my hand continue to squeeze the flesh of her thigh, bringing my other one up to do the same thing. My tongue slides over Y/N's, the feeling only causing more of my nerves to go haywire. Her hands are stiff but gentle as they cling to my biceps, her fingers shaking against my skin.

"Why are you so nervous?" I ask once we pull apart, Y/N panting some under me. "I just want to see your coloring," I add, slowly pulling her legs further apart, her cloak falling open and pooling at her hips. Crimson red colors are littered across her skin, dark purples swirling with the color from where my fingers have crossed over her skin, the rest of her still grey. Matching soft blue panties stand out against her ashy color of her. Little Miss Matching, how cute.

"I'm... I just..." Y/N stumbles, her panting slowed some but still present. I inch my fingers up, letting a finger on each side slide across the bands of her underwear clinging to her legs. This gets me a shift of her legs, but they fall back into place, wide open for me to admire.

"You have to use your words. I'm tired of trying to read your mind," I murmur, scooting down the bed so I can dip my head between her legs. Y/N's hands slide up to my shoulders from my movement and soon knot themselves into the hair on my neck. Once again, her legs fall close, tapping against me before falling open again. "Why are you nervous?" I whisper against her skin, sliding my lips over her inner thigh. Like my fingerprints, an outline of my lips forms a dark red with blotches of purple through it. I continue pressing kisses into her left thigh, leaving new outlines in my wake.

"I... you're.... you're touching me," Y/N answers, her legs tapping against the side of my face again. It's cute, how nervous she is about me seeing her like this, how her legs fall open when she's reminded of my placement.

"So? I touch you all the time," I comment, switching to her right thigh. I let my eyes flicker up, taking in Y/N as I leave a long lick from mid-thigh to the dip of her hip meeting her legs. A hissed breath comes from her, a red streak forming as I watch. Y/N's back is arched the slightest, her knees repeatedly bumping into me before falling open again, her body shaking a bit, hands buried into my head. I think this is prettier than the scene I got to see earlier.

I pull back from her, kneeling in front of her bent legs so only my hands are in contact with her now. This lets her knees bump into each other when they go too close again. Y/N whimpers at this, her fingers sliding down to my face as I sit up. "Aww, is someone whiney?" I tease, inching my hands up her stomach, letting them slide under her clothing. "Why are you whiney? What do you want Bunny?"

"I... I don't... I don't know," Y/N stumbles out, her body scooting down to move my hands up further. Her hands have moved back down to my shoulders, her nails digging into them. Her eyes are blown out, dark purple with spots of red, and watery as she looks at me. I've barely even touched her, and she's already overwhelmed. Y/N is going to need a long cool down after this.

I mess with the bend of her bra, snapping it against her, running my fingers under it, inching up just a bit before dropping them back down. My eyes jump around her, her skin turning the same purple as her eyes, washing away all the grey. The previous prints on her thighs are now crimson red instead of their previous purple, making them stand out against the cooler color. "I think you do know," I answer back, completely pulling my hands down and planting them on her hips.

Y/N whines again, thrusting her body down to attempt to move my hands further up her body. It doesn't work though; I keep them firmly in place as her legs bump into mine from her movement. "Please?" She whimpers, an involuntary pout forming on her face.

"Please what? What do you want Bunny?" I repeat as the idea of Y/N dressed up in bunny ears and a puffy bunny tail serves as a nice reminder of my hard penis, which pulses at the thought. I just need to hold on a little longer, long enough to get Y/N to beg, long enough to get her prepped, and then I can have my pleasure. "If you don't tell me what you want, I'll leave you here to deal with this all by yourself," I threaten, rubbing soft circles into her hip bones to try and encourage her words out.

"Touch me, please?" She begs, the words coming out desperate as her legs fall open again, filling my eyes with the sight of her panties. They're slightly wet now, a small spot forming as her juices seep out of her, only encouraging my actions more. She likes the teasing, she likes me forcing her words out, it's turning her on. Is that what the crimson red is? Or maybe that's what the purple is.

"Touch you where, Bun? Here?" I tease, ghosting my fingers over the little mess Y/N is already forming. Her legs jerk from the touch, bumping into my arm before falling back into place. "Or here?" I ask, pressing soft circles into her clothes clit. Bump, bump, bump. Y/N's legs jerk again with every circle I push into her nerve bundle, squeezing my arm each time she comes into contact with it.

"Garfield," she breathes out as she did earlier, another pulse from my dick and my breath hiccupping from it. I don't like how easily she cracks my swallow confidence. I am not a dominating partner by any means, but Y/N is even less a dominating person in bed so if I don't hold on to this tiny shaving of confidence, we'll be back to me panning over her with no retaliation.

"Take it off," I bark out a lot meaner than I meant to. I clench her cloak in my hands, tugging it softly. "Please, Bun," I add, softening my tone in hopes of not scaring her off. I can't scare Y/N, I can't get this close to having her just to shove her back into her shell from being too rough, too mean.

Slowly, Y/N's hands fall from my shoulders to the cute little white bow that keeps the cloth tightened to her body. Her fingers are shaking like crazy as she works on undoing it. Her eyes are still watery and so fucking hot as I look at her. I want to see her crying under me, I want to see her whole shaking because of me.

"You're doing so good," I tell her once the bow is undone and her clothing falls to the side, exposing the skin of her torso, of her chest. Streaks of a mixed grey and red outline where my hands previously rubbed against. "So, so good, Bunny," I whisper against the skin of her neck, pushing soft kisses into it as I work on tugging her clothes the rest of the way off.

Y/N curls around me as I'm bent over her. Her hands wrap around my shoulders, pushing our chests together, her legs wrapped around my hips and crossed on my back. Soft whimpers fill my ear as I push more sloppy kisses into her, now trailing them down her shoulders. It's so pretty, seeing the smooth white sliding off of Y/N, watching it pool behind her as small groups of colors form under my touches.

I bite down gently into her shoulder, getting a soft cry of pain, and nails dig back into my shoulders, but I don't mind. I need to leave behind some marking, some proof of ownership, something to show that Y/N is mine for everyone to see, even if I know my eyes will be the only ones to ever see it. "Garfield, that hurts," Y/N whines, tugging on me gently to try and remove me from her.

"I'm sorry," I murmur, littering kisses across her jaw before placing a soft one against her lips. Her tears have spilled over slightly, her cheeks damp as I pull back and look at her. "I want to be inside you so bad. Do you want me inside you?" I ask her, rubbing my thumb across her bottom lip as I look over her face. I do want to be in her, I want to be in her so badly, but I know she's overwhelmed. Y/N is shaking against me, and her tears aren't just from the bite mark, so I need to make sure she's okay with this, that she's not going to hate me if we do have sex, that she'll be okay after we have sex.

Y/N's head nods a short yes, but that's not enough for me. I need to hear her yes; I need to hear that she wants me. I press another soft kiss to her lips, dropping my hands back down to the band of her bra. "I need you to use your words, Bun."

"Please?" She whimpers, sliding herself against me. The sudden friction of her pussy against my ignored penis pulls a low moan out of me, getting me another soft hump and another whine from Y/N.

"Please what?" I push, hooking my hands to her hips. I use this leverage to shove Y/N down hard onto me, to pick up the pace of her soaked panties rubbing against the front of my pants. I continue this, using my hand placement to hump myself as whimpers and whines spill from her, but not an answer. "I swear to God Y/N. Tell me what you want, or I'll jack myself off onto your pretty titties and leave you here whining like a desperate little Bunny that can't get herself off."

Worry flickers through my head for a second but is quickly squashed when a moan tumbles out of Y/N's lips. "Please... I want you. Please? Pretty please Gar?"

That's enough confirmation for me to continue moving forward. I drop my hold on her long enough to shove my pants down and pull myself out. It's a struggle, getting myself out of my pants and boxers. Random body parts from the both of us bump together as I wiggle out of my clothes.

Once I'm freed, I slide back between Y/N's legs, the head of my penis gently tapping against the soaked spot of her underwear. Her hands are back in place, tugging on my shirt that's covering my shoulders. "Needy, needy Bunny," I tease softly, leaning down to kiss Y/N's cheek before pulling my shirt off.

"Please?" She begs again, grinding her hips down against me.

I grab at her, having a tight hold on her hips again to stop her. "Don't do that," I warn, lifting her hips off mine. There's too much tension and if she keeps pushing, I'm not going to last long enough to fuck her. "I want to play with you first," I add, sliding my fingers down and letting them snag on her underwear.

As I start pulling them down, Y/N grabs my wrist, pulling my attention to her face. Her skin is tinted in grey, only adding to the pretty mixes of red and purple. "Just... be gentle," she says, worry flooding her eyes and washing all the color out of it. Grey is fear. When Y/N is grey, she's feeling fearful.

"I'll be gentle," I tell her, leaning up and placing a few soft kisses across her face before landing one on her lips. I continue this, littering her face in kisses, as I pull her panties off her legs. Grey is still present in Y/N's eyes, but the purple and red have started spilling back in. "You're so pretty," I whisper, moving forward so our hips are connected again.

Y/N's legs are back at my sides, squeezing me as my fingers dance around her folds, touching her but not touching where I know she aches. Her nails are sharp and a bit painful as they dig and release themselves from the skin of my shoulders. She is pretty, really pretty. Big watery doe eyes, body covered in explosions of colors, small noises spilling out as I tease, her clinging to me like she'll fall apart if she doesn't. I would be thrilled to spend the rest of my life looking at her like this.

I slide my lips over hers, a distraction, something to calm her as I dip a finger into her. Y/N's fingers jolt again, digging into me as I pump my finger, helping her stretch out. "You're doing so good, Bunny," I whisper into her ear, dipping another finger in before curling inside her. I let my focus shift down, gazing at the sight of me disappearing into her.

"Garfield," Y/N moans, pulling herself tighter against me.

"Bunny," I tease, continuing to pump and curl against the walls of her pussy. Her body responds to the stimulation, tightening around me, her chest pumping to get more air into her lungs, and noises and whines for me spilling out. "You're doing really good," I repeat, pressing kisses anywhere I can reach. I debate whether to continue until she finishes or not. I don't want her to be overwhelmed, I don't want Y/N to stop enjoying this.

I decide not to let her finish, not quite yet. I start pulling my fingers out, getting a distorted reaction from Y/N. "No! No, no, no," she whines, her hands sliding down my arms to try and stop me.

I turn my focus back to her face, taking in how beautiful she looks. Y/N's eyes are still doe-like, not a thought behind them besides me. Tears have spilled over again, making her cheeks all dewy and almost sparkly from the lights above us. Her chest has slowed down a bit, but it still looks full, pretty, soft. "God, you are pretty. You are beautiful, Y/N. You are gorgeous," I tell her, shifting myself around again.

Heat rolls off of Y/N as I line myself up to her, tapping the head of my penis against her again, but with nothing in the way this time I'm able to poke just barely inside her. I tug her hands off my shoulders, lacing our fingers together as I gently press her hands against the bed. I want her to know she's able to let go, to call this off, to push me away if she needs to. "Y/N?" My voice rings out, a difference from the whimpers and whines that have been filling my ears.

"Ya?" She answers, slinging her legs around me and attempting to pull me further into her.

I give into her want, moving slowly, feeling just an inch of me sliding inside. "Are you sure you want this? We can stop," I tell her, hoping my own noises stay stuck in my throat.

"Please? Pretty please? I want - I need more. Please Gar?" Y/N begs again, her fingers and legs tightening around me, trying to get more of me inside her.

How can I say no to that? I pretty girl underneath me, begging me to fuck her. What sane person says no to that? Not me. I give again, letting the rest of me sink inside of her. Y/N is warm wrapped around me. Warm and loving. Perfect.

"You are so pretty. You are smart. You're gorgeous. You're so sweet. You are perfect. You know that? You are perfect, Bunny," I tell her, spilling out a new compliment after every thrust. A broken thank you falls from Y/N's lips after every one of my compliments, a moan or my name breaking up her words.

This is perfect. She is perfect. Y/N likes me back, likes me enough to fuck her. Likes me enough to beg for me, to need me. My hands tighten around hers as I continue to thrust into her as I dip my head down. I clamp my teeth on her shoulder a couple more times, making sure to be gentle as I do so. Little whimpers fall from her at this action which only makes my thrusts sloppier.

The sloppier my thrusts get, the more upset I get. I don't want this to end, and I really don't want it to end this soon. I knew I wasn't going to last long from the start, all the teasing today and during the whole week made sure of that. "Bunny," I murmur, sliding my tongue over Y/N's neck before I continue. "I'm not going to last much longer."

"No, you have to keep going. Please?" She whines from under me, her hold on me as she complains.

"I can't, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Bun," I mutter against her skin, covering her raw skin in kisses. She squirms from my lips brushing against the forming bite marks. It's cute, but doesn't help my rushing high that's closing in. "We'll go again, I promise, I just... I can't," I add on, sliding more kisses over her markings, making her squirm around more.

Another whine comes but is chased by Y/N pressing her own kisses into me. She leaves kisses wherever she can reach, my arms, my chest, my shoulders, everywhere.

"Fuck," I mutter, sliding out of her as the band in my stomach slightly tighter than I want. As I pull out, my cum spills out onto Y/N's thighs. It leaves a pretty scene for me to enjoy. My cum covering her thighs in a pretty white, it stands out against the dark purple of her skin and the crimson red from where I was placed between them.

Damn, all of her looks pretty, looks hot. Once again Y/N's chest is heaven for breath, a slight dew of sweat coating her body. Her skin is a pretty mix of reds and purples, every place I've touched her being empathized by the red and the rest of her being that pretty purple color. The bite marks I left littered across her shoulders - all five of them - a softer red, and slightly bruising.

"I'm sorry," I repeat, letting myself slump on top of her. Our hands are still intertwined as I let my body weight crush her a bit, my head buried into her neck. My dick is sensitive, but I push myself back into Y/N anyway, putting her whimpers of dissatisfaction on a slower setting. "I promise we'll go in again in a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay," Y/N responds, her breathing slowing a bit. Her fingers slide gently against mine, helping me calm down from my high.

I let my eyes focus on the coloring of her neck, the colors slowly dulling down before settling back to her peaceful white color. The soft pink returns again in all the places I'm touching her. I change my mind; this is the scene I'd be happy to watch for the rest of my life. Her skin shifting colors, me tangled up against her warm skin, Y/N's soft touches against me as I relax. God, I love watching Y/N's coloring, and I can't wait to make the colors shift again.

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#young justice #young justice oneshot #beast boy #beast boy oneshot #garfield logan #garfield logan one shot #beast boy smut #young justice smut #beast boy x reader #garfield logan x reader #garfield logan smut

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scottxlogan · 3 months

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Hello!! I’m a big fan of your writing! Although Scott/Logan will always by my OG pairing, your writing has really opened me up to other pairings like Scott/Tony and Scott/Steve! Who knew those pesky Avengers could bring something other than chaos to the x-men universe?!? I was wondering if you would be posting any updates to Damaged or Better Together in the near future? Both great series in my humble opinion and I would love to see how the stories end. I know it takes a lot of time and effort to write these stories, so thank you for all the effort you put into bringing these characters to life. Not enough readers say it but we do appreciate it❤️.

Thank you very much! Scott/Logan has always been my OG pairing as well even if I dabble my hand in other fandoms. There's a special place for them in my heart and while I'm having fun with other pairings they are very special to me too! (Even with how exciting Scott/Tony and Steve/Scott have proven themselves to be lol) I just finished a year long challenge that took a bulk of my time for another MCU ship, but I'm getting a little more time opening up that *fingers crossed* will allow me the opportunity to resume on both projects. In my WIP folder I have chapters of both stories nearly finished and so close to getting there if that helps.

I'm currently working up the final few squares on a couple of bingo cards outside of those two stories but I do have both of them on my must update list. I can't give you an exact time on when they'll be posted although I'm leaning towards Better Together being updated first as I've opened that one a few times recently wanting to get that one out there with it being so close to being finished. I know it's been a delay on both stories and I do apologize for that one, but I can assure you that neither one has been forgotten as they are both really important to me as an author and I do have full intention of finishing them in the future.

I know the Scogan fandom is small and not often very vocal, but your message really helps me as an author as sometimes I do wonder if people are still interested in the stories after there's been a delay. Feedback and messages like this work wonders in fueling the creative fires, so thank you for that! I am hoping to get more out there on both in the not-so-distant future if all goes right on my end. Thank you so much for your kind words and for letting me know your thoughts as it really made my day so thank you for that!!!!

#cyclops #wolverine #scott summers #james howlett #scogan #logan #tony stark #scotttony #fanfic #better together #damaged #scogan fanfic #scotttony fanfic

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honey-minded-hivemind · 3 months

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I would love to see how you would expand upon the haunted mansion au!! It has so much potential and it’s so good

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it! Honestly, I imagine each ghost character has their own backstory, era, and macabre death...

I'm not sure how many characters knew each other in life or not, but I know for certain that yes, Magneto and Xavier knew each other, Logan and Victor knew each other, Scott and Jean knew each other, and Gambit and Rogue knew each other, too. (And Laura is still related to Logan! She is in this, too!)

If I were to use X-Men Evolution as the chosen media, then there would be more tragic deaths involved, with Reader being seen as a sibling by the teens/tweens, and the adults being overprotective due to how exactly everyone died. Lighter tone, but still a somber undertone.

If I used X-Men: The Animated Series as the chosen media, then it would have darker and more dramatic deaths for the ghosts. Not to mention the majority would be adults this time, so you have all of them trying to parent the Reader or be an older sibling to them. Darker themes, and a little more trauma are to be expected if I took this direction.

You have the X-MCU, and that would have dramatic/terrifying deaths and disturbing themes. Surprise, there are kids and adults, all of whom are stuck there together, some hold grudges, but all are willing to save it for after the Reader isn't there. Extra over-protective and some possessiveness. Gets really dark, really fast.

I haven't set much in stone yet, but I can say I like the X-Men Evolution version, simply due to at least some slightly healthier relationships than the other two possibilities... I might do an au for all three medias, but as of now, the 👻Haunted Mansion🔮 AU is on the backburner. Not forgotten or abandoned, just in need of some TLC...

Buuuuut... as a sneak peak...

The three who end up as the Hitchhiking ghosts would likely be (if we do X-Men Evolution): Kurt, Kitty, and Todd.

Those three would be the sort to actively leave the mansion grounds just to follow Reader around and see what the present world is like after so many years (and spy on their new friend/sibling). Like to play jokes on each other, and the Reader, move stuff around their home, and as compensation for scaring the other ghosts by leaving, they tell them all about what the world has become, and how Reader lives and acts outside of the mansion and its grounds...

Other bonus for you😊:

Reader is a reincarnation of the ghosts' old friend... But the question is... who did Reader know, and how did they die...? And... do the ghosts know who they truly are?

(I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you for your kind words, and for taking the time to ask a question! I love answering them! Have a good day, and drink plenty of juice and water😊💛

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere x reader #platonic yandere marvel x reader #👻Haunted Mansion🔮 AU

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two-am-outlines-only · 2 years

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Blush For Lunch

Summary: Logan finds a new diner that he decides to become a regular at, not necessarily just because the food is good

Warnings: food mention

Ships: Remus x Logan, Intrulogical

Word Count: 1,420

AO3 Link

A chaotic man with an immaculately cared for mustache was the first thought in Logan's head as he watched the waiter waltz between and around the tables of the cramped diner. Somehow keeping two trays balanced on each hand and a third on the left shoulder while he stood on his tiptoes and twirled around a stray bag, hair flopping messily into his eyes as he did so. He was mesmerizing, as cliché as that might be and Logan blushed as he ducked his head back down, hoping no one caught his staring.

Burying his face in the menu instead he searched for something simple and quick to eat as he worked through the stack of papers he had brought to grade. Being a teacher was a rewarding pursuit but the endless stream of paperwork was definitely something he could stand to do without. His shoes shifted and squeaked on the clean floors, making him appreciate the diner even more considering how many floors his shoes had stuck to rather than slid on. The menu had a variety of simple yet delicious sounding choices as well that the smells wafting around only exaggerated. Hopefully this would be a nice place to lunch at more often.

"Are you ready to order?"

A nasally but pleasant voice brought him out of his thoughts, bringing him face to face with the whirlwind if a waiter. His dark green eyes gleamed in the low light and Logan found himself speechless for all the vocabulary he drilled into his students.

"I uh-eyes."

For all his previous praise of the floor Logan found himself swearing at it profusely at the nerve of it not opening up and swallowing him whole. His face heated up as the waiter blinked and then laughed outright, plucking the menu from his hands. "Coming right up!"

Before Logan could even begin to guess what was happening the other was off with a swish of his hips, leaving him to wonder what exactly was going to end up on his plate. Fiddling with his tie he glanced around nervously as his face began to cool, thanking the stars no one had noticed the exchange.

Within a few minutes a plate was set in front of him with two larger mounds of what looked like fried rice with cartoonish pupils and irises drawn on them in some kind of sauce. The waiter beamed at him as he looked up in question, gesturing to the dish.

"Meat stuffed fried rice balls with hot sauce eyes drawn on!" He tilted his head to the side and frowned in thought. "In hindsight it's more akin to putting googly eyes on testicles but it's close enough."

By the time Logan had managed to process the comment the waiter was gone, back to darting in between tables. Idly he poked at the food in front of him while laughing quietly at the strange mans antics. Actually tasting it however made him appreciate whoever it was even more, as the hot sauce made the dish burst with flavor. Watching from the corner of his eye while the other served patrons made him smile into his plate, ungraded papers completely forgotten. He'd definitely be coming back here.

---

"You're back."

Logan snapped his gaze up from his work to meet the waiter's gaze, eyes twinkling from lights or amusement he couldn't say. Blushing slightly and adjusting his glasses Logan nodded.

"So? What'll it be this time?" The man gestured to the menu and Logan refused to admit he loved the others black glittery nail polish even if it was chipping. Carefully avoiding his gaze he handed the menu over and cleared his throat.

"I was hoping...you'd pick again? Usually I despise surprises but it was quite pleasant yesterday."

The server grinned wide. "Not gonna give me something to go off this time?"

Logan faltered for a moment. That smile...

Grinning even wider he took the menu and twirled away. "Won't be mine but I'm good at improvision!"

Logan gaped as he realized he must have actually said that out loud, once again turning him into a stuttering mess that quickly buried itself back into the paperwork with renewed vigor. Don't think about him, don't think about him, don't think, don't think-

Groaning he shoved the papers away and dragged a slow hand under his glasses. He hadn't had a feeling like this since...he actually couldn't remember. Everything that random waiter did was just another point on the growing list of reasons Logan was beginning to deduce meant he had feelings for the other. Even though that was impossible since they had only met twice and the other was only serving him food since it was his job but he would much rather be given his number than whatever it was he was going to bring out. Would it be inappropriate to write his number on the receipt? Did people still do that?

Looking up as a plate was set in front of him he was met with a wink and another dazzling, if slightly manic, smile before he was left alone, his heart beating painfully against his chest as he once again tried and failed to contain a blush. He looked down to be met with a stereotypical smiling meal of eggs and bacon...with tomatoes cut like fangs placed under the bacon and the yokes poked and smeared with what appeared to be a dot of ketchup in each to represent the eyes. It was as ghastly as it was amusing and Logan was happy to find it was just as delicious as the meal previous.

----

The rest of the week passed in a blur of failed flirting on Logan's part and delicious meals on the servers. He caught himself thinking about his next lunch more often than not, wondering of the white streak in the others hair was dyed or hereditary, if he had more piercings besides his ears and the one he had seen in his eyebrow, how it was possible for jeans that tight to be comfortable.

Saturday brought a hint of nerves as he wasn't sure if the man he had grown infatuated with would even be working but his shoulders noticeably relaxed when he caught sight of his smile getting closer, already carrying a dish to his table. In just a week a tradition seemed to have started where Logan wasn't even handed a menu anymore, some sort of oddly decorated meal already ready when his allotted time for lunch came around.

"Wasn't sure you'd be here today but I'm glad you came."

"I- wait why- what?" Logan stuttered through his half question as the waiter disappeared around the tables without answering, leaving him gaping embarrassingly before snapping his mouth shut and turning towards his lunch. His brow furrowed as he realized it was alphabet soup with the letters arranged in suspiciously straight lines that upon closer inspection spelled out numbers with a question at the end.

“Call me?”

He spent an undetermined amount of time simply staring at the bowl, leaving a rather gross congealed mass in place of the previously steaming lunch. Taking out his phone slowly he typed out the number, panicking slightly as he thought of what to say before settling on his curiosity.

???: Why soup?

???: Why not nilf?

???: I don't know what that is.

???: I don't know your name so that's what I've been calling you.

???: My name is Logan but that doesn't answer my question.

???: I'll tell you when you're older Nerdy Wolverine. Or I could tell you over a proper dinner rather than a lunch rush meal? I get off at 7. Name's Remus btw.

Logan's mouth quirked at the nickname even as his face heated impossibly brighter at the dinner proposal. Feeling bold he texted back quickly.

Logan: I'll admit I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since I started coming here, so dinner sounds lovely.

Burying his face in his hands he did his best to contain the awkward embarrassment he felt. Why had he said that? He was going to come off creepy and weird and he was certain that wasn't how you secured a date and-

He peaked out from his fingers as his phone buzzed. Tentatively he opened the text.

Remus: Glad the feeling's mutual!

"Wanna meet up outside the restaurant tonight then?"

Logan looked up at the familiar face, eyes shining with mirth as he leaned forward. He offered a smile of his own and nodded.

"I'd like that."

#oren writes #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #logan sanders #sanders sides logan #remus sanders #sanders sides remus #logan x remus #remus sanders x logan sanders #intrulogical

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myloveforhergoeson · 11 months

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That's All She Wrote - Chapter 8

Chapter 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7

Find me on wattpad and ao3

Show: Big Time Rush

Pairing: James Diamond x Original Female Character

Chapter 8: Hands Down (1.8) ~ 16k

Once Camille’s melodic alarm had chimed off, startling the seven teens sprawled out across 2-H’s living room into various levels of awakeness, the actress sleepily grumbled about an early morning practice with her father for an audition before she trudged out the door. In her drowsy state, she had accidentally left behind the overnight bag she had packed by the entryway.

Noticing this a few minutes after the other girl left, and before the band had a real chance to wake up, Jo was quick to hop up - very intent on returning her friend’s forgotten item. With a “Thank you!” towards a half-conscious Roxy and a weary glance towards the boys she was still uncomfortable being around, she was out of the apartment in a flash.

The slam of the front door was more successful at jostling the boys awake than the unexpected alarm, and when their hostess graciously offered to start making breakfast for her remaining guests, they were very instant that she go back to sleep and let them handle their meal.

Though a little voice in her head told her it was a bad idea, her yearning for more time in bed overrode her ability to stop them as she migrated from the couch into her room. Occasionally hearing the sounds of pots and pans clanging on her granite countertops, and the occasional rise of one of the boys’ voices before the other three shushed it back down to a whisper, Roxy was able to peacefully drift back to sleep.

That was, until Logan let out a panicked scream, “Fire!”, ringing through the walls of her apartment.

Near instantaneously, the writer shot out of bed and threw open the door separating her from the rest of her apartment to the chorus of James and Carlos trying to calm their distraught friend down as Kendall threw a glass of water into her toaster oven to douse the flames.

As she stood in the doorway, chest-heaving, the four of them looked at her, wide-eyed, a thin line of gray smoke curling out of the appliance behind them.

She, of course, had a million questions, but before she could get a word in edgewise, each boy began to formulate a different reason as to why they had nearly burned down her kitchen.

“The bread… In the-”

“Roxy, we swear it was-”

“Who set it to broil-”

“We just wanted to-”

Slowly, she glanced over at her friends before her eyes landed on Carlos, raising one eyebrow towards him in hopes of getting a real answer for the ruckus they had caused.

Blinking back at her a few times, the boy ran a hand through his black hair. He spoke fast, words nearly blending together as they flew out of his mouth, “We weren’t kind to you yesterday, at all, and then you were nice enough to invite us over last night and we felt bad because we treated you so poorly so we figured if we let you go back to bed and made you breakfast you wouldn’t be mad at us anymore and then we kind of ended up almost burning down your kitchen!”

God, take a breath.

“To make a long story short,” Logan added, using a fork to pull the burnt piece of bread out of the toaster, “We wanted to show you how much we appreciate what you do for us.”

From in front of the fridge, James scoffed. “That was until Kendall ruined it!”

“What the hell!”

At each other’s words, James and Kendall began to squabble once more, and the girl’s tired mind could hardly decipher their words as they went back and forth.

In the interest of keeping her living space free of smelling like charred bread, she let them play their argument out as she shuffled to the back of her apartment to crack open one of the windows overlooking the Palm Woods pool. The warm, sunny atmosphere of the sweet Los Angeles morning was doing wonders for her current, disorganized mental state as a slight breeze began to kick through the room.

“Thanks, guys,” She yawned, still staring out over the pool area as her words brought the fighting to an end. “How about we meet by the pool in a few hours and you buy me a smoothie to make up for this early morning fiasco?”

I think that’s a pretty good start.

Big Time Rush didn’t need to be told twice, taking off towards their apartment in record time, allowing the girl to comfortably drift off to sleep once more.

***

When Roxy finally made her way down to the pool, the four boys were found already sitting in their usual spots, exchanging stories as Kendall handed his assistant one extra large smoothie.

As she sat sipping, taking in the smattering of stories each boy attempted to state, it quickly became evident that the boys were starting to run out of tales to tell each other. It was a strange concept to her, considering she learned new things about them daily, but the guys had been friends forever; it seemed as though they were getting sick of hearing the same things over and over again.

James attempted a new story, taking hold of his smoothie straw and poking the drink a few times to soften it up. “Hey, did I ever tell you guys about the time my hair dryer blew up and I-”

“Yes!”

“We’ve already heard it.”

“About 30 times.”

“Um, I don’t think so,” Roxy muttered to the other members of the group to no avail. Even when she poked the wannabe next to her, he simply shook his head and didn’t continue his story.

From the other end of the line, Logan sat up and swirled his pink smoothie around a few times. Wiping some of the sweat the heat had caused off his brow with the back of his hand, he took a sip and swallowed, mouth contorting and leaving behind the impression of a bad taste. “You wanna know what I think ruins a smoothie?”

“Yes.”

“Raspberry seeds.”

“Heard it!”

From the story her friends had heard a thousand times, the girl gleaned a new fact about her friend and made a mental note in case she would ever need to go on a smoothie run for the band.

Rolling his eyes as he was cut off, Logan settled back into his lounging position after another unsatisfying sip.

“Hey!” Carlos called, pulling his helmet off his head and shining a portion with the edge of his tank top, “Do you guys remember that time-”

“Robots from space.” The entire band chorused.

How did they do that?

In the middle chair, Kendall popped up, tightly gripping his black smoothie, crinkling the thin plastic cup that housed it. “That’s it! We are spending way too much time together.”

“I haven’t heard-” Roxy began before she was quickly cut off by James.

“I am starting to hate all of you!”

Head nodding, Logan agreed, “Same here.”

“Split up!” Carlos called and the boys went their own separate ways leaving the girl sitting all by herself at the water’s edge.

So much for my apology pool time.

Knowing them better than even she realized, she could tell they were all headed for their apartment - there weren’t other spaces in the Palm Woods to hang out beside the park. Presumably, they’d be unhappy to see each other and they would have to split up again, most likely finding themselves at Rocque Records to work around 10 am. So, that was where she would go.

I haven’t written in a while, maybe there’ll be some inspiration in the studio.

Thirty minutes later, the band arrived to find her sitting in one of the large white armchairs, strumming out some chords on her acoustic guitar and writing them down in her journal.

As the band slammed into each other while once again trying to go their own separate ways, their shouting alerted their boss of their arrival.

After some shuffling could be heard in Gustavo’s office, the door opened and the man emerged in an all-white athletic outfit, fit with a wooden tennis racket and matching red sweatbands.

“Alright, I’m taking the rest of the day off. I’m starting to hate all of you.” The producer shared, narrowing his eyes and scanning the racket across the band members.

The four turned to face each other before shrugging, “We hate you too.”

“Really?” Questioned Gustavo, sounding slightly hurt by the band’s shared feelings of resentment. “Then split up!”

Knowing the band would just end up at their apartment for the second time in an hour, the assistant rolled her eyes, but at least they had the day off to enjoy their separate ways. It would be amusing to see how the fight would play out among her friends so she decided to head towards the Crib as well.

When she got back to the Palm Woods and opened the door to 2-J, it was surprising she was the first to get there. Perhaps her assistant instincts had been wrong and the band had all gone to different places, but she decided to stick around just in case.

Collecting herself on the orange couch in front of the entertainment, she dumped her bag and began to organize the items in her mini-backpack.

It only took a few more minutes for the band to enter, still somehow surprised to see each other.

Throwing his hands into the air out of frustration, Logan sighed, “What part of splitting up are we not getting here?”

“Who cares?” Scoffed Carlos. “We have a day off!”

From the table behind him, Kendall snatched a colorful towel and a pair of sunglasses. “I call pool! Alone! Stay away from me.”

The blond was quick to make his escape, leaving his friends speechless at his decision. It’s not like there were many more places in the hotel for the other four to be without disturbing one of their other friends.

“I’m gonna start my acting career.” James proudly proclaimed, seemingly out of nowhere, holding up a handful of headshots. In the one on display, he was dressed as a greasy, yet still attractive, mechanic. “This face needs to be on the big screen.”

He wiggled his fingers, pulling his hands down over his face while the remaining teens exchanged sarcastic scoffs at his actions. When he noticed this, the wannabe actor frowned and stormed out of the room in search of any number of actors in the building for any tips he could get.

This left Carlos and Logan to make their decisions, both independently trying to make their own decisions before the other. Each of them were attempting to subtly glance around the apartment in search of anything that could set them apart from one another.

Logan was the first to spot his prize, not at all subtle as he let out a cry of celebration. From the breakfast bar, he spied a math textbook he had been reading by one of the top mathematicians in the country. Holding it up and showing off the cover, he explained his plan to the pair. “I’m going to a lecture by the gorgeous math genius Phoebe Nachee. She combines my two favorite things: Girls and math.”

The writer loudly faked a yawn, though she did note Phoebe was very pretty as she proudly posed on the cover of the text, as Carlos plucked the book out of his friend's hand to set it back on the table.

“Well, I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet, but it’ll be totally irresponsible.” The boy slapped his head, expecting to land on his helmet - his helmet that had been there earlier, but was suddenly nowhere to be found. Upon realizing it wasn’t there, he ran both hands through his hair in hopes it might magically appear. “Where’s my helmet? It’s gone!”

This threw him into a panic, causing him to upturn nearly everything in sight within the apartment. No space was left untouched, including the couch where the girl was sitting and organizing her things.

“Sorry, Roxy!” He called, picking her up with one arm and throwing her over his shoulder with ease. With the other, he upturned the cushions while she giggled, lightly pounding his back with her fists and kicking her feet around to get him to set her down.

“Guys! It’s not here, please help me find it!”

Logan laughed, as if Carlos just asked him the stupidest question in the world, “No.”

Clutching the textbook tightly to his chest, Logan then proceeded to run off to his lecture, leaving his two friends behind to search for the lost helmet.

“You’d have to put me down first!” Called Roxy.

Accepting her request, he gently tossed her back down onto the couch, watching as she bounced a few times on the plush cushions. “Will you help me find my helmet?”

Thankfully, he didn’t seem too bothered by the concept of spending time with his assistant.

“Sure, dude.”

Boom!

The two had their backs turned but could tell by the location of the loud sound that the front door had been kicked in. It was a terrifying sound, one that caused Roxy to immediately jump behind Carlos as the pair turned to face the destroyed door, hissing “What the hell was that?”

As the dust scattered in the airway began to clear, she peered around the boy’s purple polo to find a man in a police uniform, fit with dark shades and a black and white helmet. He stood stoically in the doorway before walking over the broken door, wood crunching loudly beneath his heavy work boots.

“Did someone lose a helmet?” He asked, arms akimbo.

Beneath her fingers, Roxy felt Carlos’ muscles relax and she loosened her grip on his shoulders. Running forward he yelled, “Papí!” and crushed the man in a tight bear hug.

It was a heartwarming moment to witness; a father-son reunification after a month of being apart. The two stood in the entryway, bright smiles, embracing each other for quite some time before letting go.

Looking back and forth between the two men, it was clear that they were related. Their facial structure, to physical stature, to love for helmets was clearly genetic - almost as if Carlos was a carbon copy of the older man beside him. As they laughed, they even hit the same pitch.

It was a sweet moment for Roxy to be able to witness, one that made her miss her father just a bit more than usual. Though, as they continued embracing, the assistant realized that besides Mrs. Knight, Mr. Garcia would be the first other band parent she would meet.

“You know, you could’ve just knocked,” Carlos advised, gesturing to the splintered wood shattered across the ground.

His father bent back as he let out a warm chuckle, another grin plastered to his face. “Aw, that’s no fun!”

The two of them locked eyes once more and leaned in, screaming in each other’s faces - somehow simultaneously expected and unexpected behavior from the pair. Now it was becoming more and more clear where Carlos got his excited nature from.

His mother must be a saint.

Once they finished, Roxy cleared her throat and stepped forward, reminding them of a third person in the apartment.

“Oh!” Carlos called, whipping his head back and forth between his father and his friend. “I almost forgot! Dad, this is Roxanne Somerset, I told you about her on the phone. She’s our songwriter-assistant, the best one in all of Hollywood!”

Aw! She thought, holding out her hand for the man to shake as he tipped his helmet in greeting. “Carlos talks about you all the time, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Garcia. And just Roxy will do.”

When their hands met, an eclectic shock bolted through her arm causing her to let out a frightened yelp and jump back.

The men locked eyes and began to cackle.

How sweet, a joy buzzer. Haven’t seen one of those since elementary school.

Taking that as her cue to leave, so as to not be the test subject for any more prank material, she hoped the other boys wouldn’t be too bothered if she sought them out. “It looks like you two have a good handle on the case, I’ll go check on the rest of the band and catch you later, okay?”

With a wave, Roxy exited the apartment and made her way toward the pool. Kendall mentioned going there earlier and though he had made a big deal about wanting to be left alone, it sounded like his anger was mostly directed at the other members of Big Time Rush, not his assistant. Besides, she was seeking out more song inspiration, and who was more inspiring than the people her first hit had been centered around?

As she entered the pool area, Lightning the TV Wonder Dog and two smaller lady dogs ran through her legs, making their way to a private cabana at the edge of the pool. From there, it was easy to spot Kendall hiding behind one of the plant features in the shaded lounge area to the left; he was very obviously spying on Jo, who stood with her gym bag at the edge of the pool on a phone call.

Walking by the girl on her way to bother Kendall, Roxy gave Jo a quick wave and they exchanged a silent greeting. Then, she hopped up the steps and squatted in the foliage beside the frontman.

“You know spying on her won't do you any good right?”

Her unexpected comment made him jump, causing him to fall back onto the concrete deck. On his way down, he ripped off a frond from the poor palm tree that served as his mediocre disguise.

“Roxy!” He hissed. “You scared the shit out of me, keep it down.”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” She whispered while extending a hand to help him up. “Why aren’t you wearing a tree hat? We made a million to stash around here and hot glue certainly isn’t cheap.”

Kendall shrugged, fluffing up his blond fringe with one hand, “Gives me hat hair, I’m trying to impress Jo right now.”

She scoffed, glancing back and forth from friend to friend, “From all the way over here?”

“I’m secretly observing her from afar.”

On Kendall’s right, his little sister Katie popped up from behind a separate palm tree to tap him on the shoulder.

He jumped again, landing on his butt once more.

“God, how long have you been there?”

“Long enough.” The girl countered, a smug smile forming on her lips as she watched her older brother pick himself up off the ground. “Doesn’t Jo have a boyfriend?”

Roxy pressed her mouth in a thin line to avoid saying anything on that topic. On the day of her arrival, the band had hassled her so much that she made up a fake boyfriend in her home state to keep the boys from constantly throwing themselves at her.

What a problem to have…

Turning to face his sister, Kendall blinked. “Yes, and it would be wrong of me to ask a girl out who’s already taken. Right?”

“Yes!” Whispered Roxy, worried Kendall was about to do the very thing Jo had been weary of.

Katie, however, had a different idea.

“Hey, Jo!” She screamed, alerting the entire pool of Kendall’s presence and shoving him down the stairs on his right. As he stumbled, Roxy did her best to scramble to the other side of the plant fixture to avoid being seen. Though she wasn’t aiding Kendall in his endeavor, she didn’t want Jo to get the wrong idea if she accidentally spotted her and Katie.

The girls watched as Kendall insisted being “just friends” with girls was cool, presumably in response to something the blonde had said. At his comment, Jo rolled her eyes and ended up inviting him to the gym as her training partner.

Listening to the whole exchange go down, Roxy let out a small breath of air at the mention of the gym. “Hey Katie, you guys have a first aid kit right?”

The girl raised her eyebrows, “Why?”

“Just grab it and head to the rec center. Your big brother is about to get his butt kicked by a Judo black belt.”

Without waiting for a response, Roxy made her way to the lobby. Seeing Kendall and Jo interact, for some reason, had led her to think of her plans for her off day - ones separate from the band and songwriting. Now, she was moving to head back to her apartment and let Dak know she was free, but she stopped in her tracks when she spotted James posing like the statue of the Thinker on one of the lobby chairs.

Those white pants are really doing him a favor.

“Ear of bat and spleen of toad!” She heard a woman call in an eerie voice, drawing her attention away from the frozen boy.

From the hotel lobby doors, Camille emerged, dressed in a phenomenal witch costume with a thick script in her hands. On her way out of 2-H that morning she had mentioned practicing for an audition.

The girls spotted each other and met in the middle of the room, practically right in front of James.

“Oh wow, Camille, you look incredible!” Roxy complimented, reaching out to feel the soft fabric of her long, black cloak.

The other girl beamed, “Thanks! I made it myself for my audition for Witches of Rodeo Drive.”

The actress then turned to James, who had stayed still the entire exchange, turning her head to the side in confusion. “Hey, what are you thinking about?”

“Oh, oh!” Roxy called, pretending to excitedly raise her hand. “Let me guess. Mm, hair gel… flat iron… ‘Cuda man spray-”

“No!” He cut her off. “I’m not thinking. I’m acting like I’m thinking.”

Crossing in front of Roxy to speak with the witch, the wannabe stood up. “Come on, tell me this face doesn’t belong on the big screen.”

Camille shook her head, sending the top of her long witch hat flying back and forth. “James, acting is about more than just being pretty.”

“I know!” He assured her, in a tone of voice that almost made it seem like he meant it. “It’s also about washboard abs!”

Lifting his white shirt just a bit, James began to gyrate his hips and form a fake sort of club music tone through his vocal cords. Roxy couldn’t tell if she was upset he did that, or more upset that he was standing with his back turned to her so she couldn’t see.

The witch girl poked her head to the right of his chest, talking directly to the songwriter behind him with a shrug. “Not bad.”

She turned to the singer again, “But acting isn’t something you do, it’s something you are.”

The advice was sound, sound enough to excite James ever further. “Will you teach me your expert acting ways?”

In front of him, the actress twisted her face in disgust, “I wouldn’t teach you if you begged me with your last dying breath!”

Watching the entire exchange, Roxy breathed out a laugh as James whined, “Really?”

“No,” Winked the witch. “See? That was acting. Welcome to the Camille Academy of Dramatic Arts!”

The two exchanged a fist bump, confirming the start of their master-student relationship, before the actress continued with her speech.

“Eye of newt and twist of fates, your acting future now awaits!”

Digging for something inside her robe, Camille threw up two handfuls of baby powder, covering the trio in the dry white substance. In an attempt to remove the unwanted and unexpected powder from their lungs, they were sent into coughing fits right there in the middle of the lobby.

Ugh. Roxy thought. That totally ruined my outfit.

As James and Camille headed to the hotel entrance, the girl made her way to the stairwell and up her apartment.

Quickly changing into a fresh pair of jeans and a breezy v-neck, she remembered exactly what she had left the pool in order to do. It was seeming as though she was just so used to cleaning up after the band’s messes she supposed it was becoming a habit to chase after them.

Slumping over on her couch, she flipped the TV on, letting the ambient sound fill her apartment. Aside from the shows she watched with Camille and Jo, the girl didn’t have anything she was watching for herself; an old movie was now playing on the channel she had been watching last night with her friends. Turning to the guide, she hoped to find something interesting.

Movie, show, movie… Movie!

Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she remembered what Dak had told her to let him whenever she was free; now she was freer than ever.

R: Hey, I'm free today!

It only took a few seconds before she saw the bubble on the left side of the screen pop up, indicating he was typing back.

D <3: I’ll have my assistant make a reservation at Chez Fancee @ 7

D: It’s a great, private place. We won’t have to worry about the paparazzi interrupting us.

R: I’ll be waiting outside the Palm Woods Hotel at 6:45 :)

Setting her phone down, she sank back into the couch and clutched her hands to her chest, letting out an excited scream. She, a nobody from middle-of-nowhere Minnesota was about to go on a date at the nicest restaurant in town with one of the most famous teen idols in the world.

How could I be so lucky?

Debating throwing open her closet door and pulling out just about every outfit she owned, she decided to text Camille and Jo instead to get their opinions.

R: SOS fashion emergency

R: What should I wear on my date to Chez Fancee tonight

R: Need 2 know by 6 at the latest

J: I would help by I’m too busy trying to get Kendall off my back

J: He is kinda charming tho?

J I might like him... I’m so confused…

C: james and i are still training, ill see what i can do later

R: Thanks! See you soon

Now that she didn’t have to worry about that, she felt an enormous weight fly off her chest. That was, until she heard a tremendous crash coming from the apartment next door.

Hurriedly, she flung open the door connecting the rooms and ran down the hall to find the living room and kitchen of 2-J in an awful state of disarray. It seemed as though a group of people had broken in and upturned every last piece of furniture in hopes of finding hidden valuables. In front of her, the legs of the dinner table were in the air, chairs strewn around it while every cabinet in the kitchen had been swung open. Dishes were thrown about on every flat surface. To her right, the couch pieces had been separated in various parts of the room and the media center had been thrown almost entirely to the ground.

One figure emerged from behind a cockeyed couch cushion, while another popped up from behind the kitchen’s breakfast bar: Mr. Garcia and his son respectively.

“It’s official,” Mr. Garcia sighed, slapping one down on the cushion with a slap. “Your helmet has been stolen.”

When Carlos spotted Roxy in the middle of the room, he greeted her with a smile before pulling the clear fridge doors open to search inside. “This stinks! But I’m totally stoked that you’re here, Dad.”

The boy and his father then abandoned their search, beginning to head toward each other, and gathered themselves in a tight hug.

“Officer Garcia is gonna crack this case!” The policeman proclaimed, clearly excited to work the case alongside his son.

A worried look crossed over Carlos’ features. “Just try not to go overboard this time, okay, Dad?”

The man laughed and slapped his helmet, much like his son would. “I’ve taken sensitivity training nine times. Let’s roll!”

Roxy blinked at his answer.

That can’t be a good sign… But what else am I doing today?

Yet, she still decided to tag along on their investigation, which took them down into the hotel lobby. It was there, she spotted James and Camille dressed in matching warlock and witch outfits. They were taking method acting seriously.

She passed by them, not without the boy taking notice as he loudly sighed and spoke far louder than he needed to. “How am I gonna show off my washboard abs in this thing?”

Taking his obvious bait, she turned around to let Carlos and his father do their own thing.

As she examined her friends, James’ outfit was certainly something. He had a long, black robe like his mentor’s, but it was lined with blue, starry fabric to tie the magic look together. His hat was made of the same beautiful material and came together in a cone shape, glittering in the light when he moved his head.

“You’re not.” Roxanne and Camille said at the same time.

The ravenette looked between her friends, pulling out a thoroughly highlighted script. “They’re holding auditions today for Witches of Rodeo Drive and I am taking you with me!”

At the prospect of attempting a real audition, James bounced up and down on his heels in excitement.

“Great!” The student agreed. “I just got some new headshots. Should I go with athletic dog trainer or confused astronaut?”

He held up two pictures of himself in the described situations.

Without a second thought, Roxy pointed to the image in his right hand. “Athletic dog trainer.”

The action earned a side glance from the actress at the quick response time, but it was soon forgotten as she swatted the images from her pupil’s hands. “Today you are an evil warlock. Now, give me evil!”

Pulling his hands up to form fake claws, James let out a confused sort of growl before pulling into a tight body roll, lifting his shirt to show off his abs. This time, fully in front of his assistant.

Suppressing a laugh, Roxy did her best to look anywhere in the room but at the boy in front of her.

“James,” Camille deadpanned, not even slightly phased by his actions. “You call that evil? It’s got to come from within.”

Turning to face the room behind her, she quickly scanned the lobby looking for a target. Pointing to a man sitting down in one of the orange, plush chairs, she spoke again. “See that guy right over there? Imagine that he broke your lucky comb.”

James yelped at the thought, swiping the magical blue hat off his head and balling it up in anger. Marching right up to the man in full confidence, he crossed the length of the lobby in no time.

“Camille, that’s just plain evil.” Roxy sighed, throwing up her hand. “Good one.”

Returning her high-five, a wicked smirk formed on the witch’s face. “I didn’t think he’d take my suggestion but he seems super into this acting thing. So, I figured, why not see how far he’ll go?”

With a crack James slammed his hand on the arm of the chair, grabbing the man’s attention. “Hey!”

Slowly standing up, the stranger turned to face his antagonizer. He was, at the very least, a foot and a half taller than James and threw his own baseball cap on the floor. Squaring up to the boy, he threw his arms out in challenge.

“Oopsy,” Camille sighed as the man grabbed James by the shoulders and threw him to the floor. Many punches were thrown, far too many to count, all while the boy was begging him to hit anywhere but his face. And once the punches were over, the man roughly picked the warlock up and dragged him to the back of the lobby. James was then, somehow, shoved into the vending machine, face pressed up against the smudged glass with an assortment of snacks all around him.

Roxy was sure to grab it all on video to show the guys later. Not at all discreet about the fact she was filming, she thought it would annoy the trapped boy, but instead he pounded on the glass.

“Press B-7.” He pleaded, voice incredibly muffled.

Reaching out and pressing the buttons did not have the desired effect, instead, a package of cookies dropped on his head and into the retrieval bin.

“Make sure to grab those for me when you get out, okay?” She asked him, figuring if she opened the flap herself it might greatly harm a part of his lower body.

Instead of waiting for his answer, she tipped her head to Camille and began to head for the elevators. There, she ran into Logan.

“Just the person I needed to see.” He grumbled, grabbing her wrist and pulling her up the flight of stairs and to the door of 2-H.

The look on his face suggested he felt defeated and he still cradled his math book to his chest as she opened the door and let him in. Bag and book discarded on her dinner table, Logan headed straight for her room, flopping onto her bed.

“Man, I wish I was a girl!” He yelled at the ceiling.

Roxy closed the bedroom door, not missing a beat. “Well, if that’s what would make you happy I’d be glad to help you-”

“Oh! No, no, because I want to go to Phoebe Nachee’s math lecture at an all-girls school, but they won’t let me in.”

“Ah, I’m sorry, man.” Laying a comforting hand on his shoulder, she sat down next to him on the red duvet. “I know you love her.”

“My heart and my brain ache for her!” Logan cried, slamming his fist down onto one of her pillows. “But, uh, thanks for the support.”

“No problem. You know I’m always here for you.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, enjoying each other’s company. Both of them had been running around so much today that it was nice to take a break, even if it was brief. Roxy peeked over into her closet, trying to get some options ready to show Camille and Jo later when an idea popped into her head.

“Hey, how badly do you want to hit the lecture?”

He let out a groan, “Really, really bad, Roxy. Like really, really bad.”

“Well…” She wasn’t sure how to explain her thoughts, hopping off of the bed and reaching for an old, red dress she had tucked away. “I think you and I might be the same size.”

***

In total, between the outfit, make-up, and accessories, it took Roxy around thirty minutes to transform Logan into a student of the Whitewater Conservatory. Thankfully, she had been right about the dress which he now wore with a few of her gold necklaces and bracelets and a cherry red headband to tie it all together. Camille had even been kind enough to run up to her room and grab a brown wig which the assistant gave beachy, loose curls to sell the look.

The boy had even squeezed himself into a pair of her red kitten heels, which were too small. It was almost like a symbol of how desperate he was to get into this math lecture.

Unlike how Kendall had been when she did his make-up, Logan was incredibly patient and still, making the entire process a lot smoother. A little bit of foundation and setting powder hid his small amount of stubble while a pale pink lip tint brought out the natural blush of his cheeks. She even went as far as to add on a pair of fake lashes she had been saving for a special occasion to bring out the already large shape of his eyes.

Now, he stood in front of her mirror, admiring her handiwork.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” He joked, looking back at her in the reflection as she made the finishing touches on the wig.

Bringing her finger to her chin, Roxy pretended to think about his question for a moment. “I definitely can’t dance. That’s why you’re in the band and I’m not. Ready to go?”

When he nodded, she stood and picked a small, black cross-body bag from her closet to add the last accessory to her friend’s look.

With a smile, he took a shaky step towards her. “Yep. Do you mind helping me out?”

“Sure.”

Grabbing his textbook in one hand, she snaked the other under his arm and the two slowly made their way to the hotel lobby. Opting for the elevator instead of the stairs this time, the closing door was caught by Carlos and Mr. Garcia who were heading back to the lobby once more.

“Hey!” Carlos pointed to the person on Roxy’s side. “New girl, nice!”

Logan coughed into his hand before answering in an incredibly high-pitched voice, “Hi.”

His saving grace was the ding of the elevator doors opening and the two shuffled down to the pick-up curb where the boy was able to catch a cab to the lecture.

When Roxy passed by the front desk on her way back in, the pair of investigators were ringing the help bell at the check-in desk over and over again to get Bitters’ attention. Sliding in next to them, she was interested in how their exchange would go down.

After a few more dings of the bell, the hotel manager emerged from the back room with his phone in hand, paying close attention to what was on the screen.

“What?” Bitters growled. “I’m busy, come back never.”

That comment was all it took for Mr. Garcia to attempt to launch himself over the desk to violently grab the manager. Luckily, his son had been there to hold him back, and though the two struggled for a moment, Carlos eventually won the battle.

“Woah! Dad, Let me handle this.”

Carlos mustered the biggest smile he could, turning towards Bitters while still keeping his father at bay. “Mr. Bitters, somebody stole my helmet. Can we please watch the hallway surveillance video?”

If there was ever a request the manager would approve of, it had to be one asked in such a polite manner. Roxy blinked expectantly, looking back and forth between the three in a standoff.

“That is private Palm Woods property. There is no way I’m going to-”

The boy threw his hands in the air in defeat, “Well, I tried. Dad?”

Instantaneously, Mr. Garcia’s hand shot across the desk, latching on to the manager's tie and pulling him in close; the manager was nearly horizontal on the surface in front of him. With the other hand, he pulled a stapler from its spot under the computer and pushed it open. Nearly as loud as a gunshot, the cop pounded the top of the stapler three times leaving Bitters’ tie stuck to the desk.

“On second thought,” The trapped man offered, much more willing to cooperate this time. “Why don’t I take a staple remover, free myself, and get you that video?”

Pleased with their success, Carlos beamed in victory. “Good cop,” He pointed to himself. “Bad cop,” Fingers traveling to his father’s arm. “And silent cop!” The boy finished, motioning to Roxy.

Nodding in agreement, his father smiled as well. “Works every time.”

After a moment Bitters was able to pry himself free of the silver staples and allowed the trio to come behind the front desk to examine the security footage.

The computer displayed a grainy, black and white video of the events that occurred on the west wing of the Palm Woods’ second floor. Angled at the end of the corridor, Roxy was easily able to spot the door to her apartment and to the band’s next door. Mr. Garcia made quick work of the video viewing features on a wireless remote and sped up the time, waiting for a figure to enter or exit 2-J. Around 11:18 AM, they got their big break.

Displayed on the screen was Tyler walking down the hall in a hurry, anxiously looking behind his shoulder every few feet as if he were checking for someone following him.

Next to her, Carlos shook his head, “It couldn’t be him.”

“Remember son,” The officer cautioned. “Everyone’s guilty until proven innocent.”

“That is definitely not true. Like at all.” The songwriter mumbled, wondering how Mr. Garcia even made it past police academy training with this kind of mindset. It was quite chilling.

Brushing his father’s comment off, Carlos started the video again until another thing moved on the screen around 12:04 AM: Lightning the TV Wonder Dog. Running down the hall towards the camera, the opposite way Tyler had been heading. Then, just as quickly as the dog had appeared, he was gone.

Once again, the video sped by until 1:36 PM when a man Roxanne didn’t recognize flashed across the screen.

“Who’s that guy?” She wondered aloud, taking note of his extremely unkempt hair and beard and his raggedy appearance.

Detective Jr. looked just as confused, “Buddha Bob?”

Roxy would have to save her questions until the end of the mystery, unless the pair were planning on dragging her with them on the interrogation. Considering their good cop, bad cop routine from earlier, that probably wasn’t something she should stick around for. She might get charged as an accessory if anything were to go south.

“Yep, there’s your man!” Bitters affirmed as if he had all the evidence in the world to prove the man’s guilt. Snatching the remote from Mr. Garcia’s hands, he fled, “Go get ‘em, coppers, bye!”

Quickly trying to make his escape, the manager moved to leave and head to the staff room but was blocked by Mr. Garcia. How he had been standing beside her one moment and then blocked the man at the end of the desk the next, she did not know, but felt it better not to ask any questions.

“Finish the tape.” The cop growled.

To the manager’s dismay, Roxy pulled the remote from his meaty hands and pressed the play button.

A timestamp at 3:06 PM showed Bitters himself trudging down the hall towards the elevators and then turning back towards the Crib, something he clearly did not want the three to see. Was that a sign of his guilt? Certainly, there was no need to hide evidence if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

Oh great. I’m thinking like Mr. Garcia now.

She shook the thought out of her mind.

Moving nearly in sync, Carlos whipped around and called the manager’s name accusingly as his father grabbed the decorative tie around his neck once more, stapling him to the table for the second time that day.

“Where’s the helmet?” Cried the cop, the tone behind his statement indicating a rising level of anger.

All Bitters did was complain, “Hey, that’s my favorite tie…”

After that exchange, Roxy moved out from behind the desk and made her way to the pool before Mr. Garcia tried an alternate method to extract information from his suspect. There, she was able to spot Jo and Katie on a set of lounge chairs.

Waving to her friend, the girl jogged a bit to greet her before she noticed the blonde was taking a phone call. So, she gingerly sat at the edge of her lounge chair while waiting for her to finish. Next to her, Katie was nose deep in a Pop Tiger magazine; this month’s cover model: Dak Zevon. Seeing the image of her date caused a horde of butterflies to erupt in Roxy’s stomach. This was really happening. She was truly about to go on a date with her biggest celebrity crush.

Though the nervous feeling was uncomfortable, it was enjoyable in a strange kind of way. Hopefully, it would never end and her heart would always be able to flutter around him.

Still on the subject of crushes, Roxy turned her head away in order to stop staring at the magazine when she noticed Kendall from across the pool. Presumably, he was still trying to get Jo to fall for him and the writer had a sneaking suspicion that the giant pizza box in his hands was some new scheme of his.

Looking back to Jo, who was still on the phone, she saw the girl's eyes widen and whipped her head around to see just what the frontman had to offer.

A fully loaded heart-shaped pizza. That was his grand plan. Roxy could swear she could smell even at such a great distance, causing her stomach to rumble. A gesture like that would totally work for her, but the kind of romantic displays Jo was into was still a mystery.

The blonde groaned, and when Roxy turned back to her again she noticed a sign was clenched in her hand. The message was clear:

BOYFRIEND

But, this did not seem to deter Kendall in even the slightest. He continued waving the box around, showcasing the large size and heavy amount of toppings. When he noticed Jo glancing over at him, he made sure to dramatically waft his offering to the new actress.

As per usual, Jo ignored him and she continued her phone call and beside her, Roxy couldn’t help but listen in, she needed something to focus on besides Katie’s magazine.

“No, Mom, I’m spending the day with a new friend and a very nice boy.”

The songwriter drummed her fingers along her calf, which was crossed on top of her other leg. She was glad to be someone Jo wrote home about, but she also mentioned Kendall in the same sentence. If those two were on the same page in her book…

Does Jo have feelings for Kendall?

Suddenly, the blonde spoke again, nearly answering her question. “No, he thinks I have a boyfriend.”

To her right, Roxy noticed Katie pull her magazine down and glance over at her friend.

“Career first, boyfriend later, remember?” Jo sighed, almost as though she had to remind herself of her goal. “But, he is very cute.”

Kendall popped into a green-shaded cabana across from them, unsure of what to do with his pizza while Jo was on the phone. As the girl said her goodbyes, Katie pretended to read her magazine again, still looking between the girl and her brother.

Roxy was slightly hurt that Jo didn’t confide in her, but understood that love could be a scary topic to discuss with someone you met only a few weeks ago. She tried not to take it personally, but she did her best to determine if the topic was safe to bring up while the boy in question was in the area.

“So…” She started, unsure of how to start the conversation. “You think he’s cute?”

Juggling her phone between her palms, Jo looked down into the water. “Well, yeah. Just look at him! And he’s been trying all day to impress me.”

“Sure he isn’t just wearing you down?”

Immediately, Jo shook her head. “Nope. I’ve had a soft spot for him since the day we met.”

This fact shocked the assistant, “You said you hated the way the band treated you!”

“I mean… anyone would.” She paused for a moment. “But, Kendall seemed to be the most genuine about it.”

Unsure of how to respond, Roxy placed her hand over Jo’s, reassuring her that whatever choice she made, the writer would be in full support of her.

“I’ve gotta run, meet at your place later to decide what to wear on your date tonight?”

Roxy nodded, taking note it was time to leave. Collecting her small backpack, she stood up and watched Jo cross the pool to meet up with Kendall. As the two interacted, it was clear that they were having fun in each other's company, even if Jo was attempting to restrain her newfound feelings for the boy. There was an inkling of a feeling that Jo might not be able to stick to her personal rule for long.

“Hey, Katie?”

On the lounge chair beside her, the young girl set her magazine down. “Yeah?”

“You gonna tell Kendall?” Roxy looked back over her shoulder.

“Yeah.” With that, Katie passed off her reading material and shot across the pool.

Now that she was alone, Roxy made her way to the lobby, debating whether or not she should warn Jo that Kendall was about to find out her secret. It would give her the advantage, but the boy was already pursuing her thinking she had a boyfriend. This information would only be advantageous to one of them. Yet, something inside her decided against it. If Katie could play a bit of matchmaker, so could Roxy in her own special way.

In the lobby, she headed towards the staircase only to find Mr. Garcia and Carlos stapling Bitters to the bland, beige wall separating the front desk from the rest of the hotel.

“Okay!” The stapled man pleaded, a slight cracking in his voice. “Enough with the staples! These suits come out of my salary, and so do the staples!”

Officer Garcia waved the stapler threateningly, mimicking pressing more into the man’s cheap suit. “Then tell me why you went into my son’s apartment!”

“And where’s my helmet?” Carlos cried.

Apparently, the two hadn’t been able to extract the necessary information to determine where Carlos’ helmet had gone. Out of all the suspects, Bitters seemed to be the most guilty. He was doing his best to hide the tape and becoming increasingly defensive about his reasoning for being in the second floor hallway closest to the boy's apartment. There was also a spare key for the man to use due to his position as hotel manager; he hated the band anyway, giving him some motive to take something one of them held dear.

“Okay,” Bitters sighed, realizing that the only way out of more staples was to finally come clean. “Somebody stole my bologna and I went into a few apartments to look for it, but I couldn’t find it.”

He went into a few apartments, a fact that thoroughly chilled Roxy. “Did you sneak into my apartment?”

“You’re close to the troublemakers I suspected, so of course I did.”

The songwriter considered pulling the black stapler out of Mr. Garcia’s hands and pushing a few more into the hotel manager’s outfit.

“Creep.” She scoffed, planning later to speak to maintenance about installing a deadbolt on her door to keep anyone who was unwanted out.

Beside her, the two guys shook their heads. “I have half a mind to arrest you for trespassing… But we need to find my son’s helmet first. When was the bologna last seen?”

The trapped man was finally appearing cooperative. “This morning! I wouldn’t want this to get out, but there’s been a stealing spree at the Palm Woods. Someone stole a lava lamp from apartment 3-B, a disco ball from the game room, and a bearskin rug from my office.”

“Sounds like someone’s having a party,” Roxy considered aloud. “Weird to include a rug and a helmet though.”

Before anyone else could devise a theory a voice from behind the four rang out, “Hide me! Hide me!”

Tyler, the resident reluctant child actor, was once again seeking reprieve from his crazy stage mother. “My mom wants me to be in a diaper commercial!”

Without hesitation, the three not stapled to the wall grabbed the young boy and created a human shield around him, shielding him from anyone passing by.

“Tyler! Where are you? We’re late!” His mother called moments later, rushing through the lobby looking incredibly distressed.

Still keeping him hidden, Mr. Garcia, Carlos, and Roxy all pointed in different directions. “He went that way!”

Quickly, the woman glanced in each of the directions, utterly confused about what they were trying to tell her. The trio quickly fixed their directions, now all pointing to the left, satisfying the scatterbrained mother. She ran off hoping to find her son in the next room.

After she left, Tyler stepped to the side; the boy was visibly relieved he would not have to try out for such a humiliating commercial. Before he was able to find somewhere new to hide, Officer Garcia clapped a hand on the redhead’s shoulder.

“Come here, kid.” He grumbled. “I saw you go into my son’s apartment. Where’s the helmet?

“I don’t know! I was hiding from my mom.” Tyler squeaked. “And your helmet was stolen? My froggy slippers were stolen!”

All three detectives looked among themselves. Based on what Bitters had told them, Carlos’ personal experience, and now Tyler’s testimony, it was becoming increasingly clear that all of these items had been stolen without any witnesses. The hotel was crawling with people day and night, whoever this thief was, they must be incredible at their craft.

Carlos began to piece the puzzle together. “Well, if Tyler didn’t do it and Mr. Bitters didn’t do it, that only leaves one suspect.”

Conveniently, Buddha Bob made his way into the lobby with a big, yellow boombox on his shoulder. His scruffy appearance and grubby clothing were a testament to how hard he worked as the maintenance man. He and the other suspects had been in the video, and if it wasn’t the other two, maybe he was the conniving thief wreaking havoc on the hotel.

The man, not even noticing Bitters stapled to the wall, passed right on by the group of detectives. Giddily, he pressed the play button on his boombox and a cheery pop song began to blast throughout the lobby. Buddha Bob began to dance, wiggling his hips and bobbing up and down as he began to walk away in search of a problem to fix.

“Proceed with caution!” Mr. Garcia warned as he, his son, and Roxy began to sneakily follow after the suspect.

Bitters called out for help, but the girl ignored him. Carlos and his father would take care of it, so for now she could use her time to make sure the other guys were alright, and then worry about herself. She was still trying to get over her constant worry for them, it was her day off after all, so even if there was something for her to do she wouldn’t get paid for it. But that was what friends were for, helping each other out of sticky situations, something the boys were continuing to teach her.

Buzz

C: come up to the crib if you have a sec!

C: james and i are waiting for our audition results

R: Omw

Seeing her friend’s message, Roxy forgot all about the chase and headed up the staircase onto the second floor. Letting herself into 2-J, she found Camille sitting at the breakfast bar, staring at her phone while James was pacing around the kitchen. The two were still dressed in their witch and warlock outfits, but the boy had just taken off his hat in worry it would ruin his perfect hair.

“Any good news?” The writer asked, eagerly awaiting the information she desired.

James sighed, “We’ve been waiting for what feels like hours! How could they not want a face like this…” He wiggled his fingers in front of his face, “on national television!”

“They said we’d get a call at 3…” The witch said absentmindedly, messing around on ScuttleButter. “And it’s… five minutes past 3!”

The actors’ entire demeanor changed, as if this was now a part of their audition as well. Though Camille had been calm and collected just seconds ago, she was now clutching her phone as if it would easily slip out of her hands at any moment while James was beginning to pace even faster, pulling at his long hair. Even Roxy caught their anxiety as she sat down next to Camille; the girl began to anxiously bounce her leg as the two waited for their call.

Both James and Roxy knew that Camille had been through this many times before, but it didn’t look like it got easier over time.

“They’ll call.” She reassured herself. “But remember, don’t get upset if we don’t get a role. Another part of acting is conquering rejection.”

It didn’t seem that the witch believed what she was saying to her pupil, but it was nice to have a cushion in case the blow was too terrible for an amateur actor like James.

After a few seconds, Camille’s ringtone chimed throughout the apartment. There was no hesitation to pick it up; the other two teens leaned in, hoping to catch a snippet of the conversation before the girl revealed the casting director’s decision.

“Yes?... Really?” She sounded incredibly excited, her face stretching into a smile. James and Roxy found themselves looking back and forth from each other to their friend, eyes wide. “Got it!... Thanks!”

Before she could hang up the phone, James couldn’t wait for her to share. “You got the part?”

Camille’s bright smile fell, “No… But see how well I handled the rejection?”

As she spoke, her voice began to break. It looked as though she was holding back tears and Roxy wrapped her friend in a hug, allowing her to hide her face and cry on her shoulder.

The assistant felt her sleeve slowly become soaked and reached out to gently stroke her hair. “It's alright, there will be other roles. Witches of Rodeo Drive don’t know who they’re missing out on!”

Camille continued to cry, so loudly they almost didn’t catch James’ phone beginning to ring. Waving him on, Roxy continued to comfort her friend who seemingly had no idea he had even gotten a call.

“Hello?” The boy asked tentatively as an ear-to-ear grin slowly grew on his face. “Really? That’s-”

His friend pumped her free fist in the air, mouthing ‘congratulations’ while still trying to keep Camille in line. The sobbing girl poked her head up, features contorted into a grimace as she looked at James.

The warlock looked back to Roxy, who simply shrugged. It was a tough situation to be in and she certainly didn’t want to be the decision-maker. Her friend winked at her, making her believe that everything was about to work itself out. Maybe she should’ve had some faith in him.

“That’s too bad,” James answered. “Well, thanks for calling… Uh, my acting coach did say I need to handle rejection.”

The assistant could faintly hear someone yelling on the other side of the line, but James pressed the hang-up button before he could change his mind.

That was… surprisingly kind.

She didn’t know he had that type of gentleness in him; it was very nice to see a new side to the actor wannabe.

“Dammit!” He feigned anger, kicking over one of the chairs beside him to sell his part before leaning onto the counter in front of the girls. “Ugh! I didn’t get the part either.”

Unbeknownst even to herself, Roxy reached out a hand to lay on top of James’. Even if he wasn’t telling the truth, he didn’t want Camille to feel any worse. “You’ll get ‘em next time.”

Camille was still trying to recover but looked up from the girl’s shoulder once more to peer over at her fellow actor. “You didn’t?”

All James could do was shake his head and set his phone down behind him, most likely to restrain himself from calling the agent back.

“Look, don’t feel bad!” Comforted Camille, reaching out to pat his shoulder. I didn’t get a part until my 32nd audition.”

Holy shit the girl thought as James nodded along.

The actress held out both her fists, one to James and one to Roxy. “She’s right, we’ll get ‘em next time.”

They exchanged fist bumps, silently wishing for better luck on their next auditions while Roxy tried to pour every ounce of luck she had into her friend. She certainly didn’t want her to go through 31 more auditions to get a part.

“You’re right,” James confirmed, blowing up their bumps.

Camille began to smile again, seeming to begin returning to her old self once she didn’t have to worry about her student one-upping her.

“Of course I’m right! And now this witch has to fly!” Cried the actress, grabbing her wand from the counter in front of her. Instantly, she began to float up from her seat, sailing into the ceiling of 2-J. As she swung back and forth, now clearly on a clear wire, she cackled and waved her wand around.

“When did you set up wires in my apartment?” James complained, trying to find the source of the girl’s trick.

Camille continued to cackle, “I did it this morning! Logan let me in and helped me out! Ahah!”

She continued to swing while the two on the floor shared a knowing glance. It was only a matter of time before Logan landed himself a date as well. Today was shaping out to be a lucky day for romance.

Slowly, Camille let herself down from the wires using a remote she had tucked into her robe. She grumbled about seeing the other two later tonight, still slightly hurt that she didn’t get the part. Her friends supposed she wanted a bit of alone time to process everything that had gone on.

Once she left, Roxy flipped her phone in her hands a few times.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get the part.” She said, glancing up at her friend.

He waved her comment off, “Oh, it’s nothing to worry about. The agent said she wanted me to be an ‘ab warlock’ or something. When I’m on TV, I want it to be for my acting prowess, not just my incredible, amazing abs.”

Roxy rolled her eyes, “Sure, James.”

“I mean it! Once I’ve mastered the world of music, I’ll master the world of acting. Just you wait.”

With a huff, the girl stepped down from her chair, walking past the boy to get a glass of water.

“Oh,” She began, filling the glass at the sink next to James. “What you did, turning the role down and all…”

At one point she had the words figured out but found herself struggling to say them. It was just a simple thank you for him doing something kind, it wasn’t that hard.

“Thanks.” She squeaked, and quickly wrapped her free arm around his waist. “It meant a lot to Camille. I hate to see her crushed.”

Her actions must have shocked the boy; he froze, but he soon wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. His soft, crushed velvet robe pressed against her cheek.

“It was nothing,” He replied coolly before echoing her words from before. “I’ll get ‘em next time.”

Neither of them knew what to do besides breaking their strange, half-embrace. The two hadn’t shared a nice moment like this since her panic attack in the stairwell weeks and weeks ago.

Buzz

J: SOS

J: 911

J: NEED YOU IN THE LOBBY NOW

“Um,” She coughed, taking a sip of her water and looking towards the ground. Good thing she checked her messages, now she had an easy out. “I better go check on Jo.”

Roxy awkwardly pointed to the door, setting her glass down as James nodded his head.

What was that? She chastised herself. It was supposed to be a simple thank you and now you’re sending mixed messages.

Pressing the thought out of her mind, she bounced down the stairs to try and find Jo but ended up running into the back of a green-shirted boy.

Kendall, who didn’t even flinch when the girl walked into him, was standing with his arms crossed, looking out over the lobby seemingly in search of someone.

“Are you here for Jo too?” Roxy asked, rubbing her forehead and stepping to his side.

Keeping his arms crossed, he nodded. “Yup, we’re about to meet her boyfriend. He flew all the way from North Carolina to come say hi.”

She let out an impressed whistle - what had Jo gotten herself into? Now, Roxy’s only options were to confirm Kendall knew her boyfriend was fake or to go along with Jo’s bit and pretend she was meeting the love of her life. Either way, she looked like a liar and either way she would burn one of her friends. What a great situation she had been dragged into.

“Wow, that’s pretty cool of him.” She lied, deciding to try and help Jo out a little.

Before Kendall could respond, they heard a shout from across the lobby. “Kendall! Roxy!”

Then approached Jo, with a tall, hunky guy on her arm. In contrast to her brightly colored jacket, the boy with her wore a tight, black tank top that left nothing to the imagination. His muscular arm curved into one of hers while the other held a gym bag and a basketball.

The pair came to a stop in front of the table Kendall had been standing by. “I’d like to introduce the two of you to my boyfriend, who just got in from North Carolina, who loves basketball, and is not allergic to shellfish.”

Roxy stuck out her hand, “Roxanne Somerset, but please, call me Roxy. It is such a pleasure to meet you! Jo talks about you all the time.”

The fake Travis shook her hand, shooting her a dazzling smile. “Roxy! I’ve heard so much about you as well.”

Beside her, Kendall rolled his eyes before he followed his assistant’s lead in sticking out his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you. Trevor, right?”

“Right!” The man lied.

Before Roxy was able to interject and try and save him from his own mistake, Kendall yelled, “Ha!”

The actor widened his eyes in fear, “No, I’m Trenton.”

Jo gawked at him, both terrified and angry at the man’s ignorance. Whatever she did to convince him to play her boyfriend certainly hadn’t been enough for him to study up on his role.

“Tralfaz?” He tried once more to shake Kendall’s hand. “Trixie?”

“Travis!” Jo yelled as Roxy whispered the name under her breath. Even she could remember her fake boyfriend’s fake name. How hard was that?

“Your name is Travis! And you’re fired.”

Without looking over to Kendall, the writer knew his face had to be plastered with a shit-eating grin. He had finally gained the information he wanted without letting on that he had already known the truth. It wasn’t quite fair for him to be breaking down Jo’s lie right in front of her, but on the other hand, it wasn’t fair for her to continue to lie to him.

“Do I still get my 20 bucks?” He asked, looking slightly afraid of Jo, before she shoved him backward and sent him running towards the door.

The blond faked a wave as his grin stayed, turning to face Jo and get her to admit the truth.

“You set me up!” She cried, looking over to her friend for some help in this fight.

“Well, you lied to me!” Kendall shot back, pointing his fingers in her face.

Roxy tried to butt in, “Well you were kinda harassing her-”

“I didn’t want a boyfriend!” Jo interrupted, trying to keep the conversation on track.

“Who says I wanted to be your boyfriend?” Cringed the blond, sticking his arms up in disbelief.

The assistant raised her hand, “You did use my love song to try and-”

“Franky, I don’t like dating girls who lie!” Kendall continued, cutting off the girl once again.

Roxy quickly realized that this wasn’t a conversation she needed to be in any longer. This was between Kendall and Jo, they would need to work it out for themselves. And to be fair, she was just the slightest bit upset at both of them for dragging her into it. She tried to back away, but Jo caught her arm and held her in place, gripping onto her for dear life.

“Well, I don’t like dating boys who catch me in my lies and make me hire idiot actors who can’t remember their names!”

That last part seemed a little situation-specific, but the girl didn’t say anything and let the two continue to tear into each other.

“Well, then, I guess we’re done here!” The boy spat.

“I guess we are!”

Kendall and Jo then went their separate ways, walking to the opposite sides of the lobby leaving Roxy thoroughly confused and standing all by herself to try and piece together what had just happened. She knew that Kendall was into Jo, and she knew that Jo had some semblance of feelings for Kendall so it was only a matter of realization to the both as to why they cared about impressing the other so much.

She watched as the two finally hopped on her train of thought and froze, turning around to face each other.

Stepping back to where they had just been fighting, the two approached each other with a bit of warmth now.

“So, do you want to go to the movies sometime?” Kendall asked, extending an invitation to the girl before him.

Reaching up to play with her hair, Jo giggled, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Roxy sighed, glad that they had realized sooner rather than later that they’d like to get to know each other better. Just another romantic thing to occur on this day.

The two broke apart again, Kendall heading towards the elevators and Jo to the pool. Eagerly following Kendall, she wanted to know his thoughts on what had just occurred but wasn’t sure if he was ready to share his feelings with her just yet.

“Didn’t she look so hot when she was yelling at me?” Kendall asked his friend, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“Wow. I truly don’t understand you two.” She cringed, unsure of if she could listen to him talk about her friend like that.

“I’m not sure I do either.”

Just as the elevator dinged to announce its arrival, the pair heard an incredibly loud crashing sound on the wall directly to their left. It almost sounded like someone had fallen over one of the planters by the pool and cracked a few ceramic pots on the way down.

Kendall, still on his earning-a-date high, ignored the noise and stepped into the elevator. He held the door for her as it began to close, but she waved him off.

“I’m gonna go see what that was. Catch you later?”

He just nodded and let the doors slide closed as she turned the corner out to the pool.

There, she spied Carlos picking Mr. Garcia off of the ground. Around the lounge area by the pool stood Tyler, Buddha Bob, and Mr. Bitters, all watching the scene unfold. The boy was wearing his father’s black and white helmet, telling Roxy that he had probably done something stupid like jump over the planter, and helped pick the stray flowers and sticks out of the officer’s hair.

The man looked to his son, a fond look in his eyes as he quipped, “I should have kept my helmet on!”

Carlos gave it back to him instantly, slapping it a few times for good measure, before turning to face Buddha Bob. Pointing an accusatory finger, he demanded the janitor give him back his missing helmet.

“Give me back my helmet!” Bitters followed up, “And my Bologna!”

“And my froggy slippers!” Screamed Tyler, coping Carlos’ gesture.

Roxy, indifferent to the junior detectives’ emotions, felt for Buddha Bob. There was no evidence he was the one who had committed the thefts and there was no true pattern as to why he would even need any of the things that were stolen from the Palm Wood residents. She also decided that she needed a pair of froggy slippers.

“Wha?” The accused stuttered, looking at the people who began to surround him. He looked confused, but not because everyone was staring at him and waiting for his answer. Slowly, he looked towards the ledge of the planter and gasped. “And my portable electrified music-playing machine!”

Roxy rolled her eyes, “Your boombox?”

“Right!” He pointed to her. “I’ve been robbed.”

The writer turned towards the group that had just accused Buddha Bob of being the thief. “Well, unless he framed himself, I don’t think Buddha Bob is our culprit.”

“I never hung up a picture of me.” The suspect deadpanned, proving his innocence.

“See?”

As soon as she stopped speaking, her ears trained on a funky techno beat that was coming from one of the dark green cabanas at the edge of the pool. Slowly, each person caught on, realizing that there was possibly a connection between the missing stereo and the emergence of a song being played aloud. Seconds later, a bark could be heard from the inside of the lobby - just as faint as the music was.

Lighting the TV Wonder Dog was the one who had released the sound, quickly darting into a closed cabana boasting the music. Seconds later, his black and white paw appeared at the bottom of the curtain to pull it closed.

Clever little boy.

“Lighting was in the video too!” Carlos connected, running an excited hand through his hair. The dog was the only other entity seen in the video, and if it wasn’t Bitters or Buddha Bob, it had to be him.

The group made their way to the cabana at Officer Garcia’s command, wearily growing closer. Many items had been stolen, but there was no clear pattern or connection - Lighting could be using them for anything. They needed to be incredibly careful if they wanted the items safely returned; the Wonder Dog could chew them up at any second during their raid.

Roxy and Carlos were the first people to reach the curtains and at the boy’s command, everyone else stood back. He and his assistant each pulled one side of the curtain up, revealing what was going on inside.

A blinding light shone in their eyes as the music they had heard earlier grew louder. Roxy let out a gasp as she scanned the inside, learning what all the items were being used for. Lighting had completely decked out the inside of the shaded tent, turning it into the ultimate party lounge for himself and the lady dogs he had invited to stay with him.

Up on the ceiling, a glittering disco ball paired with a handful of spotlights caused a beautiful, circular pattern of dots to spin around and light up the cabana. The walls were covered in various, random decorations the dog had probably stolen from other Palm Woods residents who hadn’t taken notice yet. One of the ladies was chewing on a black high heel while the other was pawing at a bright pink flower nestled behind her right ear.

In the middle of it all sat Lighting, who let out an exasperated growl, angry that his unique man cave had been found. Beside him, he licked a slab of meat from the inside of a familiar black helmet.

“Guess that solves our mystery!” The girl beamed.

At the sight, Bitters groaned, “My bologna is ruined.”

The girl and her friend earned a strong clap on the shoulder from Mr. Garcia. “Good work you two. And bad dog!”

The group laughed as Lightning shook his dark sunglasses off of his face and stood up on his hind legs, imitating a human putting their hands in the air after being caught doing something they shouldn’t have.

“And I would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it hadn’t been for you meddling kids!” Roxy mocked, speaking what the poor dog was probably thinking.

After solving the case, Carlos grabbed Roxy’s hand and dragged her up to the Crib, eager to share their exciting day with their friends. Inside, they found Kendall, James, and Katie, who joined them on the couch ready to relay their tales of the day as well. Even though Roxy had been with most of them during all the important parts, she was still interested in hearing the stories from everyone else's point of view.

“We had such a crazy day!” Carlos began, pulling her down onto the couch next to him and slapping his returned helmet. He repeated the gesture a few times as if he was making up for all of their lost hours together. “Check it out-”

Kendall interrupted him, “I had the best time today. You guys got to hear what happened-”

“You’re not gonna believe what happened to me!” James called out, probably not even registering that the other two boys had been talking.

Katie and Roxy simply exchanged glances, smiling at the guys’ stupidity as Mrs. Knight and Mr. Garcia moved to join them in the entertainment area.

The man set down a few glasses of water as Kendall’s mother set down a tray of vegetables. “Okay, alright, guys. How do we decide who tells their story first?”

The front door burst off its hinges with a bang, sending Roxy’s head flying into Carlos’ shoulder out of fear. Everyone stopped what they had been doing and what they had been saying to turn their heads to see what had caused such a commotion.

Standing in the doorway was Logan, still dressed in the clothes Roxy had let him borrow earlier, who began to limp over the door and into the room. His wig was off-center and the dress and leggings that had completed his outfit had been nearly torn to shreds. One of the kitty heels snapped, leaving him bobbing up and down as he walked, dragging her black strapped purse behind him. The textbook he had so preciously guarded earlier was now only a few pages, loosely falling from his hands as he nearly collapsed to the ground out of exhaustion.

At the sight of her dress almost ruined, a bout of anger boiled up in her chest. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to ask the guys to hold him down while she took a few shots at him, but mostly she wanted to know if her friend was alright. His face and arms were littered with bruises, his bottom lip split open, left eye swollen… the longer she looked the more she found wrong with him.

Letting go of Carlos’ hand, she ran over to him while the rest of the group stood in silence. She pinched his chin between her fingers and examined his face up close, turning it side to side and finding little cuts and bruises she couldn’t spy from a distance.

“Logan…” She muttered, trying to pour all of her empathy into one word. She wasn’t sure how much she could say without ripping him a new one.

The boy in front of her sighed, dropping the remaining book pages to the floor. “I ruined the dress.”

“Logan goes first!” The band agreed before the battered boy collapsed onto her, throwing her back to the kitchen counter as she tried to keep him standing.

The rest of her friends hopped off of the couch to help her out.

Each boy grabbed a limb, Katie taking the one that remained, and hiked him back up with a chorus of “She’s fine! She’s fine!”

While she wished he hadn’t taken such awful care of her dress, the two would have to work out something later. For now, she was more concerned about his condition.

***

After Mrs. Knight and Roxy had taken care of Logan’s injuries, the last thing she could focus on for the day was preparing for her date - then she would be home free.

As promised Camille and Jo had come over, currently sitting on the girl’s bed and messing with two of her stuffed animals, to comb through Roxy’s closet and pick out the most date-worthy outfit. The three recounted their days, getting clued in on the parts of the stories they all missed through each other.

“So, you’re going out with Kendall now?” Roxy questioned, holding up a set of black dress pants and a gray blazer and looking at herself in her mirror. It looked good on her, but she wasn’t sure it was the pick for tonight. Turning around, she held it up to her friends.

Jo peeked over the outfit and shook her head, “We’re just going to the movies. Standard first date stuff.”

Throwing her picks into the ‘no’ pile, Roxy turned back and dug through her closet for another option.

“Speaking of,” Began Camille. “This isn’t your first first date, right, Rox? I’m not sure the one with James counts; it was only ten minutes.”

“Oh, nope.” She quickly answered, picking out a yellow sun dress. “My first was a picnic with Keaton Sanchez, a guy I knew at my old high school and I wore this.”

Camille shook a stuffed dog’s head as she dragged out her decision, “Nooo.”

Another item was added to the massive mess the three had made of Roxy’s bedroom. They weren’t getting anywhere and the girl still had to do her hair and makeup. But of course, those things can’t be done until she picked her outfit. It was a vicious cycle that was driving her crazy.

“Jo, you should ask him to take you to a scary movie! Then you have the excuse to cuddle into him when it gets all creepy and stuff.” Roxy suggested, taking out a deep blue cross-back dress and holding it up.

Both girls, seeming as though they were about to say something, pointed eagerly.

The dog fell off of the bed with a thump as Camille jumped up to grab it from her.

“This is our winner for tonight!” She claimed, running into her friend’s bathroom. “Now we’ve gotta check if you have makeup to match.”

Jo moved to follow, “That so matches Dak’s blue eyes!”

Giggling, Roxy was both relieved and frenzied that they had finally come to an agreement about something to wear. It was nice to have such good friends to rely on, something she wasn’t all that familiar with back home. She, Camille, and Jo just clicked; their conversations were effortless, interests aligned, and they all had great taste in guys - something they weren’t afraid to share. Having people to lean on was so, so nice.

“Give that back!” Cried Roxy, jokingly pulling back the garment her friend had stolen. “Let me change, then we can worry about everything else.”

They conceded, allowing her some space to get herself into the dress.

The last time she had worn this was for the freshman homecoming dance at her first high school, but tonight was about new opportunities and new dates. Hollywood dates. A date with movie star Dak Zevon.

Tonight is going to be perfect…

She slipped it on, expecting to struggle with the back straps a bit but was lucky enough to avoid that. In a small shoe hanger in her closet, a pair of black block heels were quickly added.

Showing it to the girls, they gushed a bit too hard, making her do a few twirls around the room before pulling her into the bathroom and helping her finalize the look.

Another forty minutes later, hair and makeup were done and she was pushed out of her apartment, down the stairs, and out the front doors of the Palm Woods to wait for her date to arrive.

Unfortunately, playing blacktop hockey in the street were just the boys she wasn’t wanting to see. Between her awkward interaction with James earlier and her irritation with Logan at the moment, she wasn’t ready for them to send her off on a date. Maybe if she stood close to one of the planters they wouldn’t notice her.

Whoosh

The puck the boys had been playing with flew past her head, just inches away from ruining her perfectly tight curls, crashing into the hotel wall and giving away her location. With a sigh, she stepped back and picked the object to hand back to them as Carlos whizzed by on a pair of in-line skates.

“Why thank you, pretty lady!” He called from somewhere on her left before turning around, picking up speed, and taking the puck from her right.

Though it scared her, she managed to keep herself on balance. The shoes she had on were ones she hadn’t worn in ages and she was out of practice on keeping her balance.

She nodded her head, watching as Carlos dropped the puck in between James and Kendall.

“1… 2… 3…” They counted aloud, tapping their sticks on one another with each number before they went in for the puck.

Kendall was able to slap it away from James, skating down the blacktop while keeping the puck in his possession. Once he got to the goal Logan was guarding, Roxy was able to figure out Carlos was his teammate. James yelled some hockey term to Logan and the boy braced himself for impact, but Kendall continued to move, spinning circles around his friend and laughing as he kept the puck from the long-haired boy.

“Go, Kendall, go!” Roxy found herself calling.

How the boys managed to unknowingly suck her into every little thing they did, she’d never understand.

Hearing her call, he zoomed her way and did a few circles around her, an angry James on his tail.

He tried to steal it from the blond a few times but was ultimately unsuccessful. “Out of bounds!”

Kendall ignored him, setting up for a shot between the empty spaces Logan had let go unguarded. With a slap, he had secured a point for his team.

“Stop showing off!” James yelled again, giving a smack upside Kendall’s helmet. “We’ve got a game to play!”

“Showing off?” Kendall scoffed, throwing a fist onto the other boy’s shoulder. “You’re just mad I’m kicking your ass.”

Carlos zipped in between the two, somehow managing to keep both of them off of each other. “Chill out, dudes. How about we take a little break?”

Of course, Roxy just happened to have moved to the exact spot the boys had left their water bottles. They all crowded around her, looking back and forth between her and the other players.

“One of you say something instead of looking at me funny, please.”

Logan coughed into his elbow after taking off his helmet, “You look nice.”

“I didn’t even recognize you!” Carlos beamed, removing his protective gear as well.

She whispered a few ‘thank you’s’, looking down at her phone to check the time.

6:40… Please get here soon.

“Where are you going all dressed up?” Kendall asked, looking her up and down while leaning on his hockey stick for a bit of support. Unlike the other guys, he seemed to be a bit out of breath as a few beads of sweat trickled down from his hairline.

She raised an eyebrow, the boy had already forgotten their celebratory ice cream sleepover in honor of her landing a date with an A-list celebrity.

Shrugging her hair over her shoulder, she tossed a glance his way. “Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your new girlfriend?”

“Jo’s not my girlfriend!”

“Sure, sure” Roxy nodded, looking into the parking lot again. “And I’m not going out with Dak Zevon.”

Unable to come up with a suitable retort, Kendall just stuck his tongue out at her.

Next to the frontman, James was surprisingly quiet. Looking down at his feet, he seemed extremely interested in the hockey puck he pushed back and forth with his stick.

Just as she was about to open her mouth to tease him, a sleek, silver Chevy Camaro zoomed down the road they were standing beside. It honked a few times to grab someone's attention before racing off in search of a parking spot. In its wake, a huge burst of air followed; it sent the skirt of her dress and her hair flying all over the place. Catching a glimpse of who was behind the wheel, the girl noticed his dark, black sunglasses and the unforgettable dimple cut into his cheek from his obvious smirk.

The writer’s jaw dropped, turning to her friends to find equally as impressed stares at the boy who just drove by.

“Oh, my God!” She gushed, jumping up and down a bit before her mind started to run a mile a minute. “Should I wait here? Should I go meet him? Do you guys want to say hi? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, unless the restaurant is far away-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Kendall interrupted her, dropping his hockey stick to place both of his hands on her bare shoulders. “Just breathe for a second, okay?”

She did her best to act on his advice but her heart was beginning to beat so fast she feared she might never breathe properly again.

The blond continued, “Just stay right here, I’m sure he’ll come to walk you over.”

“Oh!” Carlos chimed in as she turned her head. “Be sure to call us if you need anything! My parents always tell me that before I leave, but your parents aren’t here so-”

James wordlessly smacked Carlos’ arm, shutting the other boy up.

After a few beats, Kendall finally let her go once her breathing returned to its original state.

“Thanks, guys, sorry for being such a mess.” She anxiously combed some of her fingers through her hair. “I promise to call if I need you for some reason. Besides Mrs. Knight, Jo, and Camille, you guys are four, five, six, and seven on my speed dial.”

Before she was able to turn around and check to see what was taking Dak so long, Logan caught a wildly out-of-place lock of her hair between his fingers. Gingerly, he tucked it behind her ear with a soft smile.

“Have fun,” He said, but his smile quickly faded into a frown. “Oh, shit.” He muttered, just as Roxy felt herself being caught at the waist, pulled back into someone she could only guess was her date.

A round button cut into her back as he held her tighter, fingers digging into her side.

The band looked among themselves before turning back to the pair, waiting for someone to say something.

“Hey, Roxy,“ Dak practically purred into her ear. “Did you get all dressed up, just for me?”

Clutching her purse even tighter, she nodded, praying he couldn’t feel the racing of her heart at his words. Nothing else was said, the silence hanging thick in the air outside the hotel, before Dak stuck his hand out towards Logan.

“Oh!” She jumped, realizing that her band and her date weren’t acquainted with each other. “How rude of me. Dak, this is Logan, Kendall, James, and Carlos. They all make up the band Big Time Rush.”

Pointing to each of them, she beamed.

I hope they can all get along.

Judging by the wince Logan displayed when Dak shook his hand just a little bit too tightly, she decided her wish would be short-lived.

After the semi-pleasantries were exchanged, Roxy practically dragged the idol back to his car so they could head to the restaurant and avoid any other conflicts.

***

On the way back from the most expensive meal of her life, Roxy toyed with the tinfoil swan that contained her leftover steak and potatoes dauphinoise. The two had enjoyed a wonderful conversation about their various likes and dislikes, favorite memories, and basic get-to-know-you topics. All the while, Dak had been the perfect gentleman.

They drove through the city, taking the long way home, while the teen star pointed out all the places he had been to film or to just mess around with his friends. It seemed that he had painted every inch of Hollywood - something she couldn’t wait to do with her friends.

“So…” Dak began, turning down the channel he had set his radio to as they got closer to the Palm Woods. “I don’t have to worry about that skinny, weird guy, right?”

His question caught her off guard, “Hm? Logan?”

“Yeah, the one who was putting the moves on you earlier.”

“He was not!” She combatted, thinking that her date was making a poor joke. When she glanced over at him, she saw his jaw clench as he kept his eyes on the road ahead. He hadn’t been joking. “No, Dak. Logan’s just a friend, we’ve been through a lot together this past month.”

The sigh he let out was one of relief. Slowly, he lifted his hand from the steering wheel and reached over to her side, setting it down on her thigh. The action sucked all the air from her lungs as she stared at the city skyline; she bit her lip in an attempt to not let any sound escape.

Had he been worrying about that all night?

“Good, good,” He mumbled. “It would be kinda tough if the person I was falling for was into someone else.”

A gentle squeeze sent her heart pounding as she took in his words. It took her a few minutes to respond, and even then all she could do was breathe out a shaky, “What?”

He didn’t answer her question, just turning up the radio in some type of response.

Now back at the hotel, she had spaced out so hard thinking about what the boy had said, the time was flying by as their date came to an end.

Exiting the car, Dak skipped over and opened her door, taking her hand in an attempt to help her out of the car. Roxy hoped he couldn’t feel how hard it was shaking as fingers entwined, he walked her back up to her apartment before planting a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“Let me know when you’re free again, yeah?” He asked, reaching his hand up and cupping the side of her face.

Roxy nodded, eyes darting anywhere but at the face of the boy in front of her, “You’ve got it.”

Another kiss was pressed onto her cheek, which was definitely turning a noticeable shade of red.

Thank him for the date, thank him for the date the girl repeated to herself. Trying and failing to keep her thoughts on track. All she wanted was for him to kiss her again and again and…

“Thanks!” She spat out, happy that just one of her words happened to make it through her lips.

Dak pulled away from her, raising his eyebrows.

“For what?” He teased, beginning to sense her nerves.

“For dinner.” Was another phrase she managed to press out.

Dak’s lips brushed against her cheek.

Maybe if she just turned her head… “And for driving.”

One more kiss to her temple, this one lasted until she finally was able to articulate a longer sentence. “I had an incredible time tonight, I can’t wait to see you again.”

As he pulled away, she caught a faint hint of a smirk on his lips. He knew that everything he had planned for tonight went perfectly. It was scary for her, knowing she was openly this vulnerable, but at the same time, it felt good to know that someone else shared the same feelings she had for them. A welcomed change.

A hand found hers and gave it a tight squeeze. “Goodnight, Roxanne.”

It traveled all the way up her arm, lightly tracing the outline of her neck, finally resting on her cheek once more. Instinctually, she leaned in, only to find her head buried in the idol’s chest as his other hand wrapped around her shoulders.

A hug. That’s certainly how she wanted this date to end. Maybe Dak Zevon wasn’t the kissing-on-the-first-date kind of guy, but he was the openly-admitting-he-was-falling kind of guy.

Way too confusing for her to wrap her head around right now. The only thing popping into her mind was a small line of poetry.

In the middle of the perfect day,

I’m tripping over words to say.

Dak finally let her go, not that she ever wanted the hug to end, and began to make his way down the hall without even so much as a single glance back in her direction.

This didn’t bother her, as she rushed into her apartment and tore into her room to find her songbook. The poem would live there for now, until she was confident she could turn it into a work of art for her new crush.

Thanks for reading! Happy BTR album release week!

#big time rush #btr #james diamond #james maslow #kendall knight #kendall schmidt #logan mitchell #logan henderson #carlos garcia #carlos penavega #thats all she wrote fic

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ascalonianlightbringer · 1 year

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I got around to the finale of "The Orders of Tyria" after finishing "Speaker of the Dead." This doubled as Gwen's induction into the Order of Whispers as an initiate.

The basic plan was to use an illusion of Queen Jennah to draw Kellach out, tricking him into revealing himself and then giving him a chance to surrender, but defeating him if he refused. This in no way addressed Gwen's earlier concern that he'd drag undead through every town on the way to Divinity's Reach in order to get to Jennah (or "Jennah"), but lalala.

Gwen talked to Logan first, who was predictably on edge about the queen. Gwen had the option to reply "the gods will watch over us," which I kind of like for Gwen, who I've always imagined as unexpectedly devout, and who would be more concerned about Logan, Ihan, and herself than Jennah, anyway. But I ran through the alternate option as well, where you can ask about Logan's incredibly obvious feelings for Jennah. He insisted, "She is Kryta."

I do think it's interesting that his devotion to Kryta and his love for Jennah have essentially fused into one thing, or at least are so joined up that they feed into each other (in a way that strikes me as ... not completely healthy, but still, intriguing).

Gwen also talked to Anise, my problematic fave, who explained that she was there to make the illusion of Jennah seem authentic and also explained what the Shining Blade is. I remember helping them out in GW1, so no surprises there.

Ihan was also there and pointedly reminded Gwen that the Whispers agents are "Our agents, my friend. You're a member of the Order of Whispers now. We all work as one."

Aww, Gwen and Ihan are friends! And look, I love the Order of Whispers so much. I seem to remember the Whispers arc going rather quickly, but I'd happily wander around scheming and sneaking with them for a long time. My people!

Logan wanted an assurance that they'd keep Jennah safe and Ihan promised "on the honor of our Order." They have honor in their own way, which I also love. The combination of skulduggery and dedication to a purely noble goal is just ... they could not be more catered to appeal to me (their vibe actually reminds me a little of my beloved Rogue One).

Ihan also explained that the bombs planted around the room fused Charr and Asura technology. I suspect Gwen was a bit "... :\" about using Charr tech, but she's a pragmatic creature at the end of the day, so I imagine she covered it up with a smile and carried on (a bandit infiltration episode in Brisban Wildlands revealed that her personality is "Captivating," which is fun to imagine).

And then Kellach showed up, apparently by traveling through the sewer system or something like that. Like with Tervelan, you could tell he'd gone wrong by the grime on his Seraph armor:

I'm curious if it's always a code for corruption, but I guess I'll see.

Kellach addressed the fake Jennah as "my beloved queen" (...) and insisted he wasn't going to hurt her, he just needed to, you know, bathe in her blood. I am unsure how this was supposed to happen without hurting her, but he was obviously not all that rational at this point. Upon being told to surrender and that he'd been tricked, he lost his shit and declared he'd kill us all, backed by Risen materializing out of nowhere.

The fight wasn't difficult, especially since Gwen, Ihan, Anise, and Logan managed to lure Kellach + minions into the range of the bombs. But it wasn't a particularly happy victory, given that he started by trying to figure out how to save Kryta from the Risen, and in the end, there was nothing to do but kill him like a rabid dog. Even Gwen said, "Poor Kellach," and I'm inclined to imagine she actually did.

Logan, meanwhile, was pretty shaken:

I bet it does.

Ihan, meanwhile, continued to be super encouraging:

The Order certainly seems a very pleasant crowd. It makes a certain sense, though—they need to be able to get along with anyone.

TYBALT TYBALT TYBALT TYBALT

Er, I mean, I definitely haven't forgotten so much that I've forgotten my favorite Charr ever. I realize this isn't a high bar, but for as much as I dislike mainstream Charr culture and most of their actions over the last 250 years and more, I remember that Tybalt was easily one of my favorite characters in the game.

I really like this moment—the expression, her resolve, the slight bittersweet quality of her rapport with Ihan just as he was about to leave. I seem to recall that Althea did run into him again at some point, but I'm still a bit sad to see him withdraw from major character status.

Then back to Logan! Gwen immediately picked up on how rattled he was and it turned out he'd had an epiphany of sorts. He conceded that maybe defending Jennah wasn't the best long-term use of his abilities, since nobody (including Jennah) is safe as long as the dragons are out there.

Better late than never, I say.

There is a genuine pathos to this for me. I know lots of people dislike him, but idk, I'm really fond of him despite everything.

Gwen loyally assured him that it's possible to come back from mistakes, which are part of being human (...and lbr, also Asura, Charr, sylvari, Norn...). Logan has decided to meet with his old friend Caithe after all of this. Kellach achieved something, anyway!

The cut scene concludes with a cheerful "I'll see you in Lion's Arch!" from Gwen, but it's possible to continue the conversation in the dialogue screen after. Logan freely admitted that his feelings for Jennah go beyond duty, and Gwen said (I think sincerely) that "I hope you find a way to be happy together."

I seem to recall that his feelings end up being more or less unrequited, but that's really not the impression from the personal story.

Logan also described Caithe vaguely (after running the sylvari level 10 story not long ago, his description isn't wrong, but falls a bit short of just how hardcore she really is). He thought she might have discovered something about the dragons that might be helpful, so he was willing to meet up again with her in particular, despite seeing the guild as permanently disbanded. Gwen simply told him to let her know if she could help.

I really do love the female human PC + Logan as 100% bros, and I particularly enjoy it with Gwen and Logan, given how far he was willing to go to help her out in the original street storyline. It's just a peak BROTP in my head.

It's also possible to talk to Ihan before he headed out. From him, Gwen found out that the Preceptors of the Order, Halvora, Valenze, and Doern, are aware of her. Ihan concluded, "Your wits are sharp as knives, Initiate. The Preceptors were right about you." The Preceptors, incidentally, are the visible leaders of the Order, answering to the mysterious and unknown Master of Whispers.

He also told her to take notes on Logan's meeting. Seems sketchy to spy on her friend, but that's the name of the game in the Order. Gwen simply said "Noted," which could easily be a careful ambiguity that's very characteristic of her.

Anyway, that was "The Orders of Tyria." When I first started it, I was like "oh yeah, I have to do the whole arc before I get to join up. :\" But I did really enjoy going through it and very much liked the distinct personalities and human-ness of all the representatives.

Next up: Lion's Arch!

#t: greetings friend #p: honor the past #h: everyone has a secret #s: fight what cannot be fought #long post #gw2 spoilers #c: gwen velazquez #c: kellach #c: logan thackeray #c: ihan #c: anise #c: tybalt leftpaw

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delimeful · 3 years

Text

Helpless (2)

the next chapter in the drider virgil fic!

warnings: spiders, slight dehumanizing language, assumptions/jumping to conclusions

Logan was certain that he’d tracked down his quarry.

Of course, he’d also been certain the last two times he’d found promising evidence around a swath of woods, but this time was different.

He had learned plenty while traversing through the varied lands of his kingdom, and while physical evidence was ideal, word of mouth was one of the most useful tools a researcher could use to find leads.

That was part of the reason why he’d been so careful to observe typical travelers for weeks before his departure, the reason he was wearing worn, cheap fabric and staying at the second-cheapest room at this town’s inn, despite having plenty of money still hidden on his person. He didn’t want a single rumor about a suspiciously rich noble traveling alone.

The last thing he needed was for his investigative journey to be interrupted by bandits, or worse, would-be do-gooders attempting to return the missing prince to his place in line for the throne.

Logan resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the very thought, putting aside the last half of his travel rations and stopping at the edge of town to stare into the woods beyond. He checked his compass habitually, and he was pointed firmly westward, exactly towards the point of the woods that were occupied by a dangerous monster, according to the barkeep that Logan had plied for information last night at supper.

The whole town knew of it, even the younger residents, which was a point in favor of the creature really existing rather than just being another folk tale.

There was one other potential source on the creature, a town outcast going by the way others’ noses wrinkled at the mention of him, but Logan was more than ready to begin investigating for himself, and the odds that the outcast actually knew anything were low, anyhow.

Decided, he headed into the forest, prepared for the day-long trek that was sure to follow. If he was prone to less scientific notations, he might have jotted down that he had a good feeling about this particular town.

Exactly an hour and a half later, Logan had found himself almost entirely immobilized by layers and layers of gossamer threads strewn about the trees.

Needless to say, he was ecstatic.

Even the foolish manner in which he’d landed himself stuck in such an obvious trap couldn’t dampen his spirits, not when faced with undeniable proof that there was in fact a drider in these woods. He’d been too hasty in his attempt to collect some of the biological material, and by yanking too hard, had ended up pulled forwards into the thick of the intricate spider web.

His immobility was a bit concerning, but mostly frustrating, since he couldn’t reach for his journal to note down the surprising level of the webbing’s tensile strength. Still, proper scientists had to be prepared to hold onto their observations for as long as it took for them to be able to write them down.

Besides, he could hardly complain. His current predicament practically guaranteed that he would actually get to see the creature!

There was a person stuck in his webs, and Virgil was freaking out about it.

It had never happened before. Virgil very specifically made the webs closer to town thick and opaque so that any passerby would see them and avoid this exact situation.

Virgil peered around the cluster of bushes he had half-flattened himself behind. The stranger didn’t seem too panicked, at least, going by the way that the web barely swayed with his presence. He didn’t even seem to be breathing hard, which was… admittedly sort of strange.

Skies above, what if this was a trap? Virgil turned his head sharply to scan his surroundings, wary of human hunters suddenly popping out of the undergrowth.

Several moments of silence, and even with all his senses pushed to their farthest, he couldn’t detect anything. It seemed the only one trapped here was the human.

A pang of guilt curled unpleasantly in his first stomach. He grimaced, wishing desperately that Patton was here to mitigate the utter terror Virgil was surely about to inflict on this guy.

No point in drawing it out. He rose up to his full height, grateful that the human had gotten stuck facing the opposite direction, and quietly crept up behind him. All he needed to do was announce his presence and let the human know he wasn’t going to hurt them, but he was immediately distracted at the sight of just how tangled his webs had grown.

“How does one human manage to touch every single support thread at the same time?” he asked, voice incredulous.

The human stiffened, and he couldn’t help but tense in response, cursing his big mouth.

… Really though, he spent hours crafting these, and now this one would have to be completely reconstructed!

“Are you the monster spoken of in town?”

The measured voice snapped Virgil out of his thoughts as easy as a clap of thunder, and he shuffled a bit from side to side nervously. His many steps must have been louder than he’d thought, because the human immediately attempted to twist around and see him.

He failed, naturally, because Virgil’s threads weren’t exactly easy to wriggle free of, but Virgil’s nerves only grew. “I… why do you ask?”

There was a short silence, and then, “Considering my current situation, it’s only natural I would want to know, isn’t it?”

Virgil resisted the urge to wince at his own dumbassery. “Right. Well. Yeah,” he confirmed, already bracing for the fear that nearly every human bore when confronted with him. Even Patton had been afraid at first, though Virgil really thought him braver than any other human, to be so terrified of even normal spiders and befriend a Drider of all creatures.

“Oh, excellent,” the human said with clear excitement. “Would you mind coming around so that I can see you?”

Virgil blinked, befuddled. The last thing most humans wanted was for him to come closer. Maybe it was the natural fear of him being in their blind spot? The guy certainly didn’t sound very afraid, even with Virgil’s less-than-stellar first impression.

“Do you have a weapon?” he asked warily.

“I have a knife,” the stranger offered, “but I can’t exactly reach it at the moment.”

Virgil could see the glint of it, caught bladefirst at the very edge of a web as though it had been used on the threads themselves. He slowly circled around the clearing, watching the stranger closely for any sudden movements, until he stood before him, all eight legs and thorax visible.

“Fascinating,” he breathed, eyes blown wide as they skittered from point to point as though noticing every little detail. Virgil would have thought him afraid had it not been for the prideful little grin that sat on his face. “I thought maybe you were lying to me-- I hadn’t expected you to be so fluent in the common language, living in the woods and all-- but wow!”

Virgil felt his front legs rising up a little bit in an automatic defense against the unexpected reaction. He ran his tongue over his fangs nervously, trying to figure out whether or not he should be insulted about the language thing. And what exactly did this guy mean by ‘expected’?

The stranger’s hands twitched slightly, still stuck firmly in place, and irritation briefly flitted across his face as though he’d forgotten his position. He blinked, as though remembering something.

“Oh, right. Are you planning on trying to consume me, then?” he asked, the question as politely curious as an inquiry about the weather.

Virgil recoiled physically at the idea, skittering back a few strides and baring his fangs despite the difference in size and strength and trapped-ness between the two of them. “What? No!”

The stranger managed to drag his intrigued gaze away from Virgil’s fangs, his hands twitching again almost subconsciously. “In that case, would you mind helping me down? My leg has begun to go numb, and I really would like access to my journal.”

“I-- I mean, yeah, if you aren’t-- I can--,” Virgil stumbled over his words, drawing closer with his body lowered non-threateningly and waiting for the inevitable flinch or shiver of disgust.

It never came. The stranger continued to stare at him with no trace of terror in his eyes, even as Virgil grew close enough to reach out and touch him.

“Take your time,” he offered, despite being the one trapped in a monster’s web. Virgil abruptly felt a bit silly about his obvious wariness, and lifted his front legs to rub them together at the ankles. The stranger’s head tilted to the side slightly, watching the gesture intently.

“... It’s the oils that make the webs not stick,” Virgil explained. “I produce it naturally on my feet so I don’t get, y’know, stuck. I’ll have to touch the webs that are attached to you. With my feet. The spider ones.”

Virgil didn’t have any other kinds of feet, but the stranger graciously didn’t nitpick.

“A built-in solvent… I wonder if natural spiders have similar traits,” he mused instead, and then, “Do whatever you need, I don’t mind. The opposite, really, I appreciate the assistance.”

Sure enough, he didn’t shy away when Virgil began carefully plucking at the threads entangling him, sliding the sides of his legs along them to coat them in the anti-stick oils. Bit by bit, the entanglement loosened, and Virgil had just freed both arms when the human abruptly twisted around to reach for something on his person.

Of course, now that much of the webbing holding him in midair had been removed, his weight was significantly less supported. A few threads snapped, and he dropped a few inches with a startled yelp. If he continued, he’d be in for either a rough fall or getting caught in a whole new layer of webbing, and Virgil wanted neither of those things.

He quickly reached forwards with his human arms and lifted the stranger up and away from further entanglement, batting away any stray threads with his front legs. Belatedly, he realized he had forgotten to check if it was a weapon that the human had reached for. Even more belatedly, he realized that this was the second human he’d picked up in this impromptu carry.

Weird that it had happened twice.

“Perfect, thank you,” the guy said, and then he started writing furiously in a little book, occasionally glancing up at Virgil and locking onto a feature before returning to writing. It was as though he didn’t mind at all being held aloft like a human might lift up a misbehaving cat.

Virgil took the opportunity to continue cleaning any web remnants off the guy while he was distracted, his mind whirring. A stranger who had clearly never done a day of hard labor in his life, who didn’t seem at all afraid of him, and was taking notes.

... Oh, shit.

Virgil set him carefully on the ground while he was still preoccupied with scrawling out a label for a diagram of Virgil’s teeth. He backed up, softening his steps, and by the time the stranger pulled his attention away from his book, Virgil was already well out of sight and planned to keep it that way, regardless of the confused little call the stranger made.

He was not messing with what was clearly a mage out for his parts.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #spiders tw #ts logan #ts virgil #drider #helpless #super weird not to have an acronym #h #lol #i think logan deserves to be a silly little scientist. as a treat :)#my writing #writing #my fever broke yaaay #thanks for everyones patience #and well wishes!

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fruitcoops · 3 years

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okay so we all love dad dumo and he's an incredible parent but even dumo isn't perfect. Could we maybe have dumo snapping at logan (or sirius, if it strikes your fancy, but i love dumo+logan dynamics) and then apologizing for it like a parent actually f*cking should

Oof, yes. Combined with asks for Sirius and Logan bonding, as well as some pre-Cap and James. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for parental figure disappointment

The car rumbled. Dumo’s hands squeaked on the wheel as he flexed his fingers. Logan felt like he was going to throw up.

Can we turn around real quick? No, too vague. Can we go home so I can use the bathroom? No, he’ll say I can wait another ten minutes. I forgot my phone at home? No, he saw me put it in my pocket. Logan ran through every possible way of asking to go back to the Dumais house without giving away his dilemma; with each scenario, they grew further from where he needed to be.

“Hey, Dumo?” he began quietly, swallowing around his dry mouth. What was it his father always said? Honesty is the best policy. “We need to go back to your house for a moment.”

“We’re already running late,” Dumo said, not even sparing him a glance in the rearview mirror. The traffic around them was a mess. “If we go back, we’ll miss the first part of warmups.”

“I know, but it’s kind of important.”

“So is the game. If it’s your wallet, you don’t need it right—”

“I left my skates by the front door.”

Dead silence filled the car as Dumo slowed to a stop at the fourth red light. Logan’s heart sank and his stomach crawled into his throat. “What?”

“I left my skates by the front door,” he repeated, staring at his hands. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”

“Tabernak, Logan!” Dumo snapped. He felt something inside him wither and die. “First the nap, then forgetting to wash your jersey, and now you left your fucking skates behind? What’s going on in your head? You are an adult now with responsibilities, and it’s your job to keep track of your shit.”

“I know,” Logan said quietly.

Dumo huffed. “Clearly you don’t! Do you just not care? Is that it?”

“I care.”

“This isn’t a college team, Logan.” Dumo’s accent grew harsh around his name. It had been a bad day for him—Adele came down with a nasty cold just after Celeste left to visit her parents for the weekend, and there was always an added pressure with home games. Logan knew that, and he knew he should have been paying better attention.

“I know.”

Dumo muttered a curse under his breath and pulled onto a side road, then swore again when his duffle bag slid in the passenger seat. Logan closed his eyes; there was no way they would make it all the way to the house and back to the rink in time for pre-game rituals. Damn it, Tremblay. What were you thinking?

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Dumo parked the car with a quiet “go”, and Logan hurried inside with a slight nod to the babysitter as he grabbed his skates before slinking back to the car with his head hung low.

“I’m really disappointed in you,” Dumo said when they reached the freeway again.

“I’m sorry.”

He received no response.

They won the game despite skipping all their superstitions, no thanks to Logan. He played like shit; Arthur barely gave him four shifts the whole night. Finn shot him a concerned look as he rinsed off and slipped back into his street clothes, but Logan didn’t have the energy to confront both his best friend and the upsetting feelings connected to the aforementioned best-friend-slash-secret-crush. If he tried, he’d certainly end up doing something stupid.

He packed his things, slung his bag over his shoulder, and followed Dumo out to the car like a stray dog with his tail between his legs. “I really am—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Dumo interrupted as they pulled out of the parking lot. Logan pressed his lips together. “Are you hungry?”

Starving. “Kinda.”

“I’ll heat up some leftover lasagna when we get back to the house. Will you pay the babysitter and make sure the kids are in bed?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you.”

Logan ground his teeth around the steady ache building in his chest—he hated disappointing people in general, but it was a whole different story with Dumo. He was his second father, the person Logan admired most on the team. He gave him a home and a substitute family to ease the homesickness, and was always there to cheer him on. And Logan let him down.

They went through their nightly routine silently, which was a sharp contrast to their usual banter. Marc and Louis refused to go to bed at first, nearly bringing Logan to tears in his frustration, but he eventually got them settled down and tucked in. By some miracle, both the girls were already asleep.

“I’m going to call Celeste,” Dumo finally said as Logan unloaded the dishwasher. He nodded without a word, not trusting his voice.

As soon as the dishwasher was full and running, Logan took his phone out and dialed the only person he wanted to hear from. It rang twice before connecting. “Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Hey, Cap, what’s up?”

“Not much.” Sirius sounded confused, and more than a little tired. “Ça va?”

Logan’s eyes burned. “Not bad. Do you have a minute?”

There was a rustling noise from the other end, followed by the clink of keys. “You’re at Dumo’s, right?”

“Oui.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thanks,” he managed around his tight throat. “See you soon.”

Hushed voices came from the living room and Logan padded down the hall, knocking gently on the doorframe. Dumo looked up and furrowed his brow. “Un moment, mon amour. Are you alright?”

“Sirius is coming by in ten. We’re going to hang out for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Tell him I say hello.” Without another word, Dumo uncovered the base of his phone and returned to his conversation. Logan nodded and headed back out into the hall, swallowing down the tears forming behind his eyes.

Ten minutes turned out to be seven minutes—Logan was simultaneously flattered and concerned—and a soft knock startled him out of his thoughts. Sirius already looked worried when the front door swung open. “What happened? Is everyone okay? Did something happen to Celeste?”

“She’s fine. Dumo says hi.” And he’s horribly disappointed in me. Logan took several deep breaths through his nose to control the tremor in his voice and Sirius gave him a worried once-over. “Can we drive around for a bit?”

“Of course.”

For all of his bluster and general brooding vibe, Sirius continued to be the king of empathy and (in Logan’s opinion) a secret mind-reader. The second his arm draped across Logan’s shoulders and held him close as they walked down the sidewalk, he felt some of the pressure in his chest release. “Sorry about the late call,” he sniffled. It was a cold night—the snot threatening to drip from his nose was frigid already. “I just—I needed to get out for a minute.”

“À tout moment.” Any time. Logan didn’t feel deserving of that kindness after the mess he had been on the ice. The heaters kicked on as soon as Sirius started the car and Logan closed his eyes, leaning back into the warm seat. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“It’s so stupid.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

Logan took a moment to breathe before shaking his head. “I forgot my skates. We were already running late, and I forgot my fucking skates at the house.”

Sirius hummed, but said nothing.

“It’s—Dumo has been having such a horrible day.” Tears clogged his throat again. “And I took a nap earlier because I stayed up late last night like an idiot, and Adele’s sick so he had all the kids and no help while he was trying to get ready, and then I overslept so it was already going to be rushed and forgot to clean my jersey and then—and then I forgot my skates. God, I’m so stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.” Logan wanted to kick him for being so infuriatingly patient. Sirius glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “That’s not why you’re upset, though.”

“He’s—” Logan broke off and swiped the first tear away with his sweatshirt cuff. “He said he was disappointed in me.”

“Ah.”

“It’s such a stupid thing to be upset about.”

Sirius sighed through his nose and pulled into the parking lot of a 24-hour Taco Bell, then turned off the car and faced Logan with one eyebrow raised. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Belittling yourself.”

“Okay, Heather,” Logan snorted. Sirius reached over and flicked him on the forehead. “Hey!”

“You forgot your skates. Big deal. We’ve all been there.”

Logan shot him a glare. “You’ve never forgotten your skates.”

“Yes, I have. My very first game with the Lions, actually. Except I didn’t realize it until we were already at the rink.”

“Did Dumo drive you back?”

“The whole damn way. He was mad as hell, but he did it.” Sirius’ face softened, and he poked Logan gently on the thigh. “Stop kicking yourself for this one. It sounds like it was a bad day for you both.”

“I still feel like shit.”

Sirius shrugged. “I bet. Disappointing Dumo is the worst feeling ever.”

“He wouldn’t even let me apologize.”

“He will.”

They sat in silence for a full minute as Logan tried to find the right words. “How did you deal with it? Letting people down. It feels like I’m drowning, sometimes.”

“Really, really poorly,” Sirius half-laughed, crossing his ankle over his knee. “It wasn’t until I was named captain that I started accepting that people weren’t lying when they forgave me for fucking up.”

“Why?”

“Believe it or not, the people I was around as a kid didn’t make a habit of apologizing to me when they did something wrong.”

Logan looked up from the faded letters on his sweatshirt sleeve and sniffled. “Thanks for bringing me out here.”

“Pas de problem. I figured you could use some company outside the house.”

“You’re the best.”

“I try.”

“You succeed.” You’re like a brother to me, actually. “Is this what James did for you?”

“No,” Sirius laughed. Affection took over his face, bright even in the dim light from the streetlamps. “No, he snuck me onto the roof of the rink with massive amounts of junk food and stayed with me until the imposter syndrome faded. It was fantastic, but we nearly got hypothermia several times in the winter. This is much more comfortable.”

“Thanks for helping me keep all my fingers and toes,” Logan said wryly. He lapsed back into silence and folded his forearms on the dashboard, sighing at the pleasant stretch of his back. “I know I have to go back eventually, but I’m scared.”

“Honestly, Logan, I bet he’s already forgiven you. He knows it was an accident.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” The words came out as little more than a whisper. Sirius’ hand rested hesitantly between his shoulder blades until Logan leaned back into it, then began rubbing gentle circles.

“He does,” Sirius said softly. “And he loves you so much.”

Logan sniffed back more tears. “Really?”

“Ouais. You’ve been living with him for nine months now, and he’s so proud of how far you’ve come.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he told me. Last week, after your hat trick. People fuck up, Logan, but that doesn’t mean they’re unforgivable. You don’t need to flay yourself for one bad day.”

Logan shut his eyes with a slow exhale and buried his face in his forearms. “I think I’m ready to go back now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“D’accord. Buckle your seatbelt.”

He straightened up and stretched, wincing at the crack of his back. Sirius drove out of the parking lot and hummed under his breath to the radio, but Logan didn’t miss the careful glances out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he finally said. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know,” Sirius said casually, though he looked like he was holding something back. Logan didn’t press; Sirius would talk in his own time if he wanted to. He opened his mouth, paused, then sighed. “But I do worry about you.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Thank you, Captain Black, for the most media answer of all time. “You really don’t have to.”

Sirius parked the car and leaned his head back against the seat. “You’re my friend, and I care about you, so I worry.”

Logan blinked at him. “You care about me?”

“Obviously,” Sirius muttered. Even in the darkness of the street, his cheeks were pink. “Now go on, you've got someone waiting for you.”

“I care about you, too.”

“Out of my car, Tremblay.” Despite his words, a smile quirked at the corner of Sirius’ mouth. Logan socked him lightly on the arm and opened the door, shivering in the night air as it bit through his hoodie.

“Drive safe, Cap.”

“I will.”

The walk to the front door felt less like a trip to the gallows and more like coming home; Logan felt his muscles relax, and saw the curtains shift as someone moved away from the window. Dumo opened the door before he could even knock.

“I’m sorry,” they said in unison. Logan raised his eyebrows and Dumo opened the door the rest of the way, ushering him inside.

The moment the door closed behind him, Dumo wrapped him in a hug. “I’m so sorry for what I said earlier, Logan. You made a mistake, and I shouldn’t have come down hard on you.”

“I’m sorry I made us late,” Logan said into his soft shirt. “And for not helping earlier. It won’t happen again.”

“All is forgiven.” Dumo patted him on the back of the shoulder and held him at arm’s length with a sad smile. “I should have kept a better handle on my temper. You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that.”

Logan bit back the urge to say it’s okay or I deserved it and instead pulled him in for another hug. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I didn’t realize how much you’ve helped me until today.”

Dumo made a quiet sound and held him tighter. “It’s a gift to have you here.”

Logan squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of emotion rolled in his heart. “There is nowhere I would rather be,” he whispered. They stayed like that for a long moment, swaying slightly, before Dumo stepped back.

“Get some rest. We have early practice tomorrow.” He mussed Logan’s hair and gave him a nudge toward the stairs. “Bonne nuit, mon fils.”

Mon fils. Logan’s breath caught for a second and he smiled. “Bonne nuit.”

#logan tremblay #sirius black #pascal dumais #finn o'hara #james potter #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #hurt/ comfort #cap and logan bonding #dad dumo

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sirenofthetimes · 3 years

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Every Proposal on Gilmore Girls Was Absolutely Unhinged

This show was rich in couples, swimming in conflict, and desperately lacking in healthy communication. Which made for some batshit marriage proposals! Let's go:

Christopher to Lorelai in Season 1 ep. 15: Christopher Returns

In Christopher's first appearance on the show, he rocks up to Stars Hollow on his motorcycle at the end of the previous episode, out of the blue, and in this one archetypes are made clear: he establishes himself as the irresponsible deadbeat single dad to Lorelai's hardworking, mature yet still fun single mom. They have a weird dinner with everyone's parents where his parents, Straub and Francine, are shown to be even more uptight and awful than Richard and Emily can be. A lot of fighting and yelling and relitigating past choices ensues. Then Lorelai and Christopher go off to have emotional, nostalgic sex on her childhood balcony, and off the strength of that, he walks into her kitchen the next morning and blurts out that he wants to marry her so they can be a "real family". They barely see each other. They know hardly anything about each other's current lives. This is the first time he's visited the town they've been living in since Rory was a child and yet. A marriage proposal. Naturally, she turns him down, but we have not heard the last of Christopher Hayden.

Max to Lorelai in Season 1 ep. 21: Love, Daisies and Troubadours

This relationship was used mostly to discuss Lorelai's commitment issues, the difficulties of dating as a single mom, and have her fight allegations of her being promiscuous (which are not true, she can be very sexually conservative) by having her do something risky like try to date one of her daughter's teachers at the stuffy private school that also exists in her parents' world. So despite them having okay chemistry, they haven't really dated much and broke up after two months before getting back together shortly before the night of the proposal. Max comes by the house to pick Lorelai up and finds Luke there getting his toolbox and relaying the news that Rachel broke up with him (because she has a basic level of intuition and picked up on his feelings for Lorelai). Max and Luke have a very cringy dick measuring contest, Max (in possession of similar intuition) assumes Luke and Lorelai dated at some point but it's not season 5 yet so she's not legally allowed to admit she's into Luke. They argue, Max expresses frustration that their relationship can never seem to get off the ground, and what does he propose as a solution? Yoking their lives together in blessed matrimony. Lorelai is justifiably frustrated and tells him that's not how you propose, that a proposal is supposed to be special and grand. She lists "a thousand yellow daisies" as an example how to truly pop the question and the next day Max arranges for that famous logistical nightmare romantic gesture at the inn, then says some flowery bullshit on the phone and because it's the season finale and emotions are high, Lorelai accepts. Though later, right after her bachelorette party, she runs away and calls off the wedding. They meet a couple more times for closure, and then the relationship is truly dead.

Jackson to Sookie in Season 2 ep 13: A-Tisket A-Tasket

Sookie and Jackson's budding relationship has actually been pretty nice to watch up until this point. They have a fun balance between awkward but cute flirting and comical bickering about produce. But there's something in the area's water supply that makes people unable to clearly express their wants and needs in a romantic relationship so when Sookie doesn't respond how Jackson wanted her to to him saying his lease was up and asking her what she thought, he sulks. The sulking manifests itself in him not bidding on Sookie's basket at the bid a basket auction so she confronts him to see what's up and they actually manage to have a decent conversation about what moving in together would mean. And that could've been a nice ending for that storyline. But shacking up together? Out of wedlock? Impossible. So at their picnic for two, Jackson fakes Sookie out and says he doesn't want to talk about moving in together any more... because he thinks they should get married. Sookie, reeling from that whiplash, accepts, and since the rules of TV beta couples states they must move faster than the main will-they-won't-they couple at all times, they get married, stay married, and continue struggling to effectively talk through big life decisions,with some admittedly nice moments in between.

Lorelai to Luke in Season 5 ep 22: A House is Not a Home and Season 6 ep 1: New and Improved Lorelai

Lorelai and Luke are in kind of a weird place at the moment, with Luke upset with Lorelai for considering selling the Dragonfly to a corporation owned by one of her father's contacts, which would have her traveling and consulting instead. While she's not too serious about it, she's enjoying being courted by the company, but this is in complete disregard for the giant house Luke bought without telling her or the kids he's thinking about having that he also hasn't discussed with her so it's causing problems. This is forgotten however with the news that Rory wants to take time off from Yale after receiving some rare negative feedback, and that Richard and Emily are letting her stay with them after just telling Lorelai they would help her force Rory back into Yale. So when Lorelai walks into the diner lamenting the fact that Rory is making a decision independent from the vision Lorelai had for her life, and Luke comes forth with a nonsensical plan to, again, force Rory back to Yale, Lorelai is touched that she finally has someone on her side. And since she's a veteran of the season finale marriage proposal, she celebrates having her partner agree with her by asking him to marry her. He accepts in the next season's premiere with no hesitation, but eventually their tendency to hide things from each other to not ruin their relationship.... ruins their relationship. Shocking.

Zack to Lane in Season 6 ep 16: Bridesmaids Revisited

Zack is on a bit of a redemption tour after ruining Hep Alien's showcase in front of a major label by throwing a tantrum about Brian potentially writing a song for Lane. This random burst of jealousy sends him on a power trip that has him throwing out their set list and screaming at his band mates until a fight breaks out and the band and him and Lane split up. But when he sees Lane in the music shop some time later putting up a flier advertising her drumming services to other bands, the thought of her daring to potentially continue living her life without him spurs Zach into action. He convinces Brian and Gil to get the band back together and they're in if Lane's in. And his way of getting Lane back is to walk into Luke's while she's working, go off on some tangent about how he doesn't feel good, and propose in front of a huge crowd of gossipy small town people. Lane must have smacked her head on some antique furniture that day because although she at least stops to ask if he's thought about this, when he presents her with the pawn shop ring he got that "belonged to like an Elk or a Moose or something", she accepts and walks right into marriage and babies land and right out of development that would make sense for her character or be interesting.

Christopher to Lorelai in Season 7 ep. 7: French Twist

Ever since Lorelai walked out of her fraught engagement with Luke and into Christopher's bed, he has taken the reality of a woman coping with feelings of rejection by hooking up with the man she keeps stashed in the background for occasions such as these, and spun it into an elaborate romantic tale of two star crossed loves who waited their whole lives to be together. And when Sherry who, guided by the hands of karma, previously abandoned Gigi leaving Christopher to raise her on his own, writes a letter saying she's totally fine now trust her and wants Gigi to spend a few months with her in Paris, Christopher invites Lorelai along for a big romantic gesture trip. They spend most of it jetlagged, but Christopher remembers he's super rich now (as opposed to just being regular rich like before) and he bribes a restaurant to open early for the two of them. Lorelai, basking in the romance™ of it all, confesses her love, and Christopher pounces on that and starts in on a whole speech. Basically, even though he said he'd be willing to wait for Lorelai to fall in line with his vision, he doesn't feel like waiting any more. Lorelai, sensing where this is going, suggests they wait, as they've only been really dating for a couple of months. She also brings up Rory, figuring she'd want to be up to date and present any big changes. But Christopher waves those perfectly valid concerns away, stresses how long they've known each other, insists that they're meant to be, and fate has brought them together. And then comes out with it and asks her to marry him. Which are very intense words for Lorelai, an emotionally vulnerable woman who just broke off an engagement because her fiancé seemed overly hesitant to actually get married, to hear. We don't see her accept, but there's a scene of them returning home where he calls her "Mrs. Hayden" (as if she would ever change her name), and their marriage immediately began to fall apart like wet tissue paper.

Logan to Rory in Season 7 ep. 21: Unto the Breach

It's the end of Rory's time at Yale, and on the heels of her New York Times fellowship rejection, rejections from other newspapers across the country, and the fact that she rejected her one job offer for better things that did not come, Rory's future is wide open and unstable. On the other hand, Logan is completing his character transformation from irresponsible party animal trust fund kid to hardworking and responsible trust fund kid, accepting a job offer for an internet company in San Francisco. The question emerges: How will the young couple handle this next phase of their lives? And when Logan shows up at Lorelai's house in the previous episode, he comes with a solution. He wants to marry Rory and take her to California, and he wants Lorelai's blessing to propose. She gives it, though not without trepidation, and Logan does propose. In the middle of the graduation party Richard and Emily are throwing for Rory, he gets up in front of everyone and takes out the ring. Rory is caught completely off guard and takes him outside to talk about it, where he reveals that he got the job, picked out a house for them to rent, researched newspapers where she could apply to work, and even planned activities for them to do in their spare time. The original plan being that she would say yes to his proposal without knowing all this and walk blindly into her new, pre-arranged West Coast life. But Rory needs time to process the idea of marrying Logan immediately after college, and on the day of her graduation, she declines. Logan decides if he can't marry her, there's no point in being with her at all, and the two go their separate ways, to eventually meet again in a years long affair, for some reason. Though I barely acknowledge the revival.

Honestly, the only proposal that truly makes sense is Lorelai's to Luke in the revival but I won't discuss it here because a) again, the revival basically doesn't exist to me and b) they should've married during the original run of the show.

#gilmore girls #originals #this sat in my drafts for ages because every time i watched a proposal scene i need to Take A Minute #i mean imo even a lot of your standard proposals are still wild to me #but these.... woof

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sidespromptblog · 3 years

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Locked

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Logan is insecure, Crying (Almost), and Angst.

Summary: After Patton skips him, Logan locks himself away in his room as the doubts about their friendship start to overwhelm him. Why had Patton done that? Had he wanted to do it all along? Was it just better this way? Should he just stop talked? Should he just...

AO3 LINK

Word Count: 3305

The door slammed shut much harder than he had meant for it to, but be that as it may… Logan couldn’t bring himself to care about that as he sank heavily into the chair next to his desk. Tossing his glasses onto his desk, he held his face in his hands trying desperately to calm the shaking that started in his shoulders and traveled all the way through his entire body. He wasn’t crying, but right now he honestly wished that he could at least get that kind of relief right now. Instead, there was only a deep well of sadness that only seemed to get bigger and bigger with each passing moment, he didn’t like it. At least with tears, it was only temporary, but this feeling… it felt like it could go on forever.

“It’s not fair…” Logan couldn’t help but to whisper in a way that almost sounded like a whimper, his bottom lip trembled uncontrollably, and yet no tears. “Why.. he…” He honestly could not believe what Patton had done this time, he’d already expected it from Roman when he had chosen ignorance over Logan informing him. But for Patton to… to just let Janus come in and pull him out and replace him, just because he didn’t want to listen to him. Patton… who had seemed so worried when Janus had first taken his place before. “It’s not fair…” He repeated with a mumble, as he dragged his fingers through his hair messing up his usually neat and presentable hair.

He didn’t care right now, now was not the time to be neat and presentable.

He could allow himself this at least, to dwell in this.. this...

Betrayal.

Yes, that was an apt term for what had happened between him and Patton. Whether the other side chose to acknowledge it or not, Patton had… betrayed his trust as well as his feelings by choosing to silence him. Ordinarily, he could understand that due to heightened emotions Patton could do weird things, but it was the fact that when he had chosen to confront him about it in front of Thomas he had… tried to do damage control. Which as responsible as that sounded, only made him feel as if he were like a child being placated, and like he didn’t deserve an apology for what had been done.

Did he though?

Doubt curled its ugly unease around Logan, making him slump even more in the chair as he ran his hands back over his face before eventually just covering up his eyes. He knew that he could be a lot to handle sometimes, and that his many many facts could sometimes be annoying to handle well all of the time if their reactions were anything to go by. Oftentimes his input wasn’t exactly wanted, especially when it came to things with emotion. Even things involving stuff like philosophy or psychology seemed boring for the others, more so when it seemed to come from him of all sides. Even his history facts…

But Patton had always assured him that he wanted to hear him.

The doubt in his mind grew stronger, “Was he…” The word lying stuck on his tongue like a barb, as his heart clenched painfully in his chest. For the first time since he’d come back to his room, tears welled up in his eyes misting over everything in sight.

It didn’t make him feel any better.

He probably was.

After all, if Patton had lied about his own emotions multiple times then there was no reason to assume that he hadn’t lied about things like this to all of them. It wasn’t wrong to assume that… he perhaps didn’t even like him, or maybe even that.. that he had just been humoring Logan until he grew too annoyed to bother putting up with him anymore. That he had finally reached his breaking point, and Logan just so happened to be the kind and cheerful side’s breaking point. It wasn’t an impossible thing to assume, but after Patton had dealt with both Remus and Janus… for Logan to be his breaking point kind of hurt more than a little.

Was he really so unlikable?

Probably…

God, why hadn’t he listened before when the others had told him to shut up? Probably his pride, he was too arrogant and far too self-absorbed.

And he had called Roman conceited…

Logan raked his fingers through his hair again, tangling his messy hair even further. “Maybe I should just start being quiet…” He muttered dourly, even though deep down… he knew that it wouldn’t be enough. Just being quiet wouldn’t work considering the damage he’d already done to everyone around him. “Maybe I sh-”

A quick series of knocks pattered on Logan’s door, and just as quickly as it had started the words quickly died in the logical side’s throat.

“Logan.” Janus’ cool and calm voice called from the other side of the door, he couldn’t have been standing more than a few inches away from the wood that separated them. It was just one word and his name at that, it shouldn’t have been so startling. And yet, despite that calmness that always seemed to accompany Janus’ tone, Logan couldn’t help but to detect… something else. “Logan, may I come in?”

It was... worry?

Even so, Logan fought the urge to sigh heavily at the request. Here, was the one person who had not only taken his place at Patton’s unspoken and unsaid request… but the person who seemed to delight in calling him out on all of the lies that he constantly told himself. He wasn’t exactly the kind of person that Logan really wanted to have over for tea, much less invite him into his room when he was already feeling vulnerable and on the verge of tears. But… it wasn’t like he could deny the request, should someone need him he was always to be there for them. Whether it be someone like Janus, or one of the other sides he had grown up around. He was to be there for them, and to offer them logical assistance. And maybe Janus needed that.

Or to just rub it in his face about how Patton had chosen to have lies rather than the truth.

“What you don’t know can’t hurt you.” Deceit smirked at Logan in that knowing way of his, as if he knew that further down the line of what was to come. Or maybe because he just knew of the lies that constantly rattled off of Logan’s tongue, or the lies that just stayed inside his head constantly tormenting him.

“Logan?”

Another sigh rattled out of the side in question, before he painstakingly combed his tangled hair back with his fingers in an effort to get some kind of neatness back before Janus could see.

“Do what you want Janus,” Logan called out from his desk, turning back to it to give the semblance that he had been doing some kind of work. His desk was a mess though, there would be no getting that past Janus. He attempted to neaten up a little, his shaking fingers plucking up different papers as he organized them into little stacks that hardly felt as organized as he wanted it to be. Although the light trembling of his entire body certainly didn’t help manners any, his inner turmoil certainly hadn’t gone away just because Janus had shown up. “Come in.” He muttered, half expecting the other side to just have left at the sound of the attitude clearly ringing in Logan’s voice.

But hearing the sound of the knob of his door turning before it creaked open made the logical side turn his head a little, the streak of light from the hallway made his eyes burn a little. Although that could have just been from the fact that he had forgotten to put his glasses back on in his haste, as well as the fact that his eyes had been completely adjusted to the darkness of his own bedroom.

But even so, there Janus stood. With his caplet draped casually over his arm and his head held in his hands, letting Logan see his smooth wavy hair that stuck up from the friction of his hat. His gloves had even been tucked away into the back pocket of his pants, letting Logan get the tiniest glimpse of the scales that gleamed like glass on his wrists. He looked…

Casual.

Suspiciously so.

If he hadn’t been before then the smile that came from the other most certainly sealed it. “Thank you for seeing me,” Janus carefully said as he walked from the door to Logan’s bed. Tossing his caplet onto the blankets Janus took a seat without even bothering to ask, instead just crossing his legs as he stared back at the logical side for a good long moment. “I was worried that you wouldn’t for a moment, or that you’d just turn me away… I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Why?”

Janus blinked at the question, “Because I took your place to-”

“I mean why are you here right now?” Logan didn’t feel that bad about interrupting him, if anything he almost deserved it after how he had been interrupted today. “There’s no logical reason for you to be. You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” He’d hurt him, or in the very least he’d assisted Patton in hurting him. That skip button hadn’t come out of nowhere, and neither had that cane that had hooked him.

But then again… maybe Janus had sensed what Patton secretly wanted but couldn’t say to Logan. Janus had always known the secrets that they’d all kept hidden, and… Patton not liking him and wanting him to just shut up was something that Janus could most certainly help with now as well as in the future. Janus even made logical arguments, so it wasn’t a stretch to say that he could even deliver some arguments in a way that wouldn’t bore the others too. Patton…

Patton even seemed to like him.

Janus cleared his throat, and just like that Logan’s mind had been dragged back to the present.

“I just wanted to let you know,” Janus slowly began, as he fidgeted with the hat in his hands. “That I’m not good at this whole… being a vulnerable and truthful person kind of thing, but you deserve... to know the truth.” Janus lamely finished, looking like he was going to say something else before finally ending his words. “It’s not easy, especially since I’m so used to lying all of the time. But…”

Logan just stared back tiredly, wondering when it would all be over so that he could just bury himself in work and sleep, so that he could forget this whole day ever happened to begin with.

“Your doubts and your fears about Patton are unfounded.” Janus finally snapped, the words coming out in one massive rush as if in fear of waiting any longer would stop them from coming at all. But even so, it didn’t stop the emotions that were clearly shining in the dishonest side’s face. As he gripped his hat tighter and tighter, until his knuckles had turned white. “He does not find you annoying, because you are not annoying. He does not want your silence.”

I don’t want your silence.

The words were unspoken, and yet Logan heard them all the same.

But it still did little to alleviate the pain that had already sunk deep in his chest, while it was nice that Patton apparently felt this way… actions had more a louder call than words did. And Patton’s actions… they stung like a slap to the fact that would bruise for months to come, and even so.. even then he wasn’t sure he could trust that Patton wouldn’t do it again.

It had hurt.

A tired sigh fell from his lips, “Is it you or Patton that’s saying that?” He finally asked, as he finally allowed his shoulders to droop from the exhaustion he had felt from the day. There was no hiding his emotions from Janus, the side could see through whatever front he put up effortlessly, so there was no point in hiding anymore…

There never really was.

A mixture of emotions darted over Janus’ face, “Both… both of us Logan.” He softly whispered, the look of regret and sorrow unfolding as his gaze took in all of the emotions that were freely being shown on the logical side’s face. “I’m sorry…” He honestly said, agony curling into him like a white-hot fire as Logan closed his eyes at the simple two-letter words that had left the dishonest side’s mouth.

“Clearly,” Logan began, not callously but logically. “Otherwise I doubt you would have made the effort to come here. But…” He took in a deep breath, steadying himself for what he was about to say. “It changes nothing.” He had to put his foot down, at least this one time… he was tired of this, so very tired. “I am tired Janus, I am tired of what keeps happening to me. I had learned to accept it from some of the others at this point, as just ‘teasing’. But this… this is the last straw for me.” It hurt to say, but.. but he had to take care of himself first before he could even think about what Patton’s actions might’ve meant if it didn’t mean he was annoyed with him. “I am taking this for myself.”

There was a moment of silence between them, and when Logan finally opened his eyes he didn’t really see what he had expected to see from Janus. Maybe some anger, some more worry, or even some annoyance at the way that Logan had chosen to go. He wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to react to the calm understanding that was reflected back in Janus’ eyes, as if… it had been something that the serpentine side was acutely familiar with.

But even so, Janus slowly nodded. “Are you going to duck out?” He carefully asked.

Logan couldn’t fault him for the question, it was a very valid one especially considering that Virgil had done the same exact thing months prior. But that wouldn’t solve anything, it would just be running away and waiting for the others to chase after him and show him that they care after so long of… everything. And while it was tempting and so very.. very nice sounding… he wouldn’t do that to them. Seeing how Thomas had been affected by Virgil’s absence had been enough to assure himself that even if he had the opportunity to, he wouldn’t. It wouldn’t solve the baseline problem anyways.

It would just make the others feel guilty about boundaries that they didn’t know existed for Logan.

“No,” He easily answered, and he watched as Janus relaxed clearly sensing the lack of a lie in Logan’s statement. “I will continue to do my work as Thomas’ logic, and be good at it. But.. I am tired, and…” He looked over to the messy stacks of papers on his desk that he had tried to organize before Janus had come in, there was so much he needed to clean and work on. “I think that I need some time away from the others, and… some time to think about myself and how I stand with them.” Logically he knew.. he knew that they had never done anything out of any pure malice or hateful intent. Logan was just… well he was weird and he was odd at times, so there was no reason for them not to comment on it. Especially since he’d never told them not to, he should have put up clear boundaries of what he was okay with and what he wasn’t. But even so…

It didn’t stop the hurt.

A chilly hand squeezed his own, and looking down to his lap Logan saw that Janus had reached across the distance to bridge the gap between them. “Take however long that you need to,” Janus murmured, although knowing entirely that he had no say in the matter. “I am glad that you are taking this, and doing this.” Logan would never see him making a fuss about taking some self-preservation for himself, more of the sides needed to do what Logan was doing. Better late than never, anyways. “I wish you the best of luck, and…” As Janus stood from his spot at Logan’s bed, making his way towards the door. He stopped as soon as he laid his hair on the brass doorknob. “I hope that when you come back, I can make a better opportunity at being your friend.”

With that being said, Janus opened the door and walked out leaving Logan to his rest. The hammering of his heart had quieted almost as soon as the lies that had been surrounding Logan’s mind had faded into nothingness. He had been scared for a moment, that Logan would duck out just as Virgil did, but this time they’d have a much harder time of getting Logan back.

He hadn’t been the only one that was worried.

“Is he okay?” Patton softly asked from the couch, the stuffed animal that was being squeezed to death in his arms told Janus just how worried the moral side really was even if he was trying to remain calm. “Should I go up there and talk to him?” Patton fidgeted with the strings of sleeves of his cat hoodie, his leg bouncing up and down as he glanced towards the stairs that Janus had just walked down.

He stilled as soon as Janus raised his hand to stop him. “He is fine right now,” The dishonest side said, as he sat beside Patton comfortably. “But I wouldn’t suggest going to see him, he’s…” Janus struggled to find a way to word it delicately enough to get the feelings across, but without hurting Patton too much in the process. “He was very hurt by your actions, and it’s not a feeling that I think is going to go away anytime soon. You showing up and trying to apologize when he’s not ready… it’s just going to make him feel that hurt so much worse.” Putting his hand on Patton’s shoulder, Janus looked back at the other side’s guilty look. “ I understand your guilt, but showing up before he’s ready will just make him draw away from you even more. Trust me I know this much about forgiveness…” Images of Virgil’s distrustful sneers flashed in his mind, and Janus couldn’t help but to wince at the pain that crackled over his heart. It was always better to wait than to say something you couldn’t take back, because you didn’t wait. “I don’t think he’ll be ready for a while, and I think yo-... We all need to be prepared to wait until he’s ready to come out, not us going to him. ”

As depressed as Patton looked at the prospect of leaving one of the others to stew in their own mental torment, he nodded.

“Okay,” Patton sadly said as he hugged the stuffed animal in his arms tighter, “You’re right… I can’t make him forgive me, and I don’t want him to feel put on the spot. I just.. I just hope that he’ll be okay, I’ll miss him.”

Janus knew, he knew so much about that feeling so much that it physically made him ache on the inside.

He still missed Virgil to this day, even though he saw him almost every day now.

But he’d lost his chance, so the very least he could do was ensure that Virgil and the others didn’t lose theirs with Logan.

He wouldn’t put them through that pain.

Never.

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

Text

You Don’t Own Me (You Don’t Even Know Me)

Chapter 5

Summary: As the son of a Baron, Roman Sanders always knew that when he married, it would be due to a political arrangement rather than true love. Still, when he is sent away to marry an older, more powerful Earl, he is determined to make the best of his situation. Despite the Earl’s indifference towards him, Roman forges ahead and prepares to become the best husband he can possibly be, making new friends along the way. But when his fiancé’s demeanor turns from cold to cruel, Roman must shift all of his focus to survival, and find a way out of his marriage before it’s too late.

Ships: Logince (Logan x Roman) Moxiety (Virgil x Patton)

Content Warnings: arranged marriage, abuse, attempted sexual assault, murder, poisoning, character death, hurt/comfort, angst

Chapter Warnings: mentions of physical and emotional abuse, murder planning

Word Count: 2490

Read on AO3: here!

Cowritten with @ironwoman359 masterlist

False masterlist

Roman was not used to feeling small.

He was used to standing out, being loud, and carrying his shoulders with a confidence worthy of the title he held and the company he was expected to keep. Wherever he went, he knew he could always hold his head high.

Staring at his reflection now, he had to fight the urge to duck his head. His face was, quite simply, a mess. The cut from Lord Howard’s ring was small enough that Roman didn’t feel the need to bandage it, but the wound was slightly swollen, and his cheek was a truly shocking shade of purple.

Swallowing, Roman picked up a small compact that had been left on his vanity. He wasn’t in the habit of applying makeup, but when the supplies for doing so had appeared in his room overnight, the message he was being sent was quite clear. He wasn’t even sure whether he was sickened or relieved by the act, at this point. In some ways, it felt like another mark of ownership; the earl wanted him as perfect and pristine as ever, no matter what happened. But on the other hand, Roman wasn’t sure if he could stand to walk about the estate with the mark on full display like a brand.

Roman winced as he gingerly applied the powder to his face. It didn’t completely erase the injury’s appearance, but if he added some blush to the other cheek and styled his hair so it hung lower than usual, obscuring the bruise from the side...it was almost enough.

It would have to do for now.

Taking a deep breath, Roman exited his room and quickly made his way through the halls. He’d told Patton that he didn’t feel well this morning (which was not entirely untrue), and so he wasn’t expecting anyone to wonder where he was. After a few turns, he found himself standing before a door that he had never actually gone through before: the door to Logan’s office.

The office’s large door glistened with fresh wood polish and gave a pleasant, welcoming smell, though the scent actually only succeeded in making Roman’s nerves worse. He knew Logan would be on the other side, working on managing this set of numbers or that pile of letters even this early in the morning. Lightly touching the bruise across his cheek he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It had to be Logan- no one else. He trusted Patton with everything he had, but there was no telling how the loyal attendant would react. He knew Patton cared about him, but as kind and caring as he was, he was hardly a good actor. And Virgil was far from a snitch, but he was so wary of any sign of trouble that Roman didn’t want to burden him with this...at least not yet.

He had to be sure...he had to know he had even half a chance before letting the others in, and to have that chance, he needed Logan.

If Roman listened closely, he could hear him on the other side of the door, muttering softly to himself as he ran through whatever calculations he was scratching out with his favorite pen. Paper rustled every now and then and Roman could tell by the coolness of the hardwood floor just in front of the door that the window must be open. He stood a moment more, letting his mind’s eye follow the thought, picturing Logan’s long hair blowing softly across his shoulders as he sat hunched over his desk, glasses sitting just so on the bridge of his nose that Roman could probably reach forward and straighten them if he was quick enough.

Shaking the thought out of his head, he took a breath and knocked quickly, then without waiting for an answer, pushed the door open before he could lose his nerve.

Logan glanced up from his work, frowning slightly as Roman entered. His eyes widened when he saw Roman, and he stood so quickly that his chair screeched across the floor. Wincing at the sound, he smiled apologetically and gestured for Roman to take the seat in front of him.

“Roman, to what do I owe the pleasure this late in the evening?”

“I-” Roman’s throat ran dry, and his thoughts along with it. Logan was looking at him, worry etched across his brow and work forgotten, and Roman swallowed. “I need your help.”

“Certainly,” Logan said immediately. “How can I assist you?”

Sitting across from Logan now, Roman almost changed his mind. It seemed absurd to think that Logan would agree to what he had in mind...what if he had misjudged him? What if he had misinterpreted the withering looks Logan shot the earl when he thought no one was looking, what if he had placed too much faith in their budding friendship, and if Roman so much as breathed a word of his plan, Logan would be the first to warn Lord Howard?

“Roman? Are you alright?”

Logan’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and Roman looked up. Logan was sitting patiently, nothing but concern and quiet understanding marking his features, and Roman suddenly didn’t know why he should be worried at all. He could trust this man- he was sure of it.

“I need your help taking control away from Lord Howard.”

Logan binked once, then twice, fiddling with a pen that lay in front of his hands before setting it down firmly and leaning forward. No sound came from his mouth when he opened it at first, snapping it shut to blink a third time, slow and deliberate while he gathered his thoughts. “I’m sorry?”

“I- I need your help, please Logan.” Roman leaned forward as the other man straightened back up, his attention fully caught. “The earl has his fingers in far too many pies...and I’m not even sure he remembers what all the flavors are. If last week's meeting was anything to go by he disregards anything that doesn’t directly benefit him and only him and I’m sure land isn’t the only thing he’s notoriously stubborn with. Look at the way he treats his staff, expecting them up day and night to serve him and his entertainment of the day, extending that to you and all the responsibilities he shoves to the side in his confidence that you’ll pick up the slack. I haven’t even been here for very long but I know you hardly sleep for all the work you do in his stead. He expects everyone around him to be the perfect picture of their roles to mask the fact that he cannot play his own and I cannot continue this betrothal and eventual marriage in a state of constant anxiety and silence. He isn’t...he isn’t a good man Logan.”

Pursing his lips, Logan held up a hand. “Roman, I still don’t know that I understand what you want me-”

“He isn’t a good man, Logan,” Roman interrupted. “You must see that.”

“Yes, but Roman, he- I don’t know what you’re asking of me. He has more power than he knows what to do with, true, and he certainly abuses it, but I’m not certain what you expect me to be able to do about taking it away. I manage his finances and remind him of meetings; I hardly have the reach to do anything substantial.”

“For people like him, money is his power, and you’re the one that takes care of that. How many times does he actually ask you about anything official? Does he ever want full accounts of where anything goes? You sign documents for him of all things because he believes himself too important and you’re going to sit there and say you have no weight to throw?”

“But I-”

Seeing the doubt, Roman was quick to lean forward. “What if we could control the estate? Actually control it, and make smart decisions for it and know what’s going in and out of it? Surely you of all people would jump at the opportunity to make the changes you know need to be made here.”

“Roman.” Logan fixed him with a stern look, and Roman snapped his mouth shut. “It’s a nice thought in theory. I’ve spent many nights worrying over things that truly should not be my responsibility, and have done enough research to present to the earl a myriad of solutions to his problems, should he ever decide he actually wants to listen to my counsel. But for us to be in control of the estate, the earl would have to be deceased.”

Roman stared at him blankly.

Logan’s eyes widened. “Roman that is not-”

Taking a deep breath, Roman brought up a hand to wipe at his face, the flesh colored powder smearing his sleeve to reveal the dark purple and red underneath. This time it was Logan that snapped his mouth shut, with an audible click. Horror, anger and worry flashed across his face, and Roman winced.

“It’s going to get worse. I know it and so do you. This is how it starts, especially once he has someone who officially belongs to him, and especially when that someone doesn’t just lie down and take it. I won’t. And so it will keep getting worse, and he will never be accountable until one of us finally has an accident. I am not going to let that one of us be me.”

Logan regarded him sadly, sighing as he lowered his gaze. “What you’re suggesting is extremely risky. Even if we could do something after you marry him, the fact of the matter is that this is the Howard family’s estate. And I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that the earl isn’t exactly...interested in making you an official member of the family in any capacity. If he were to pass away, the estate wouldn’t be bequeathed to you. You’d still have no control, and might honestly end up with less if his other family members decide not to tolerate your presence.”

“That’s where you come in.” Roman smirked, and Logan’s head snapped up. “I need your help to forge the will.”

--- --- ---

“Well that’s-”

“Excuse me, what?”

Roman fidgeted with his sleeve as Logan attempted to sooth Patton and Virgil long enough to allow them to explain. After getting Logan to agree to help him, Roman had immediately requested that they bring Patton and Virgil into the scheme. Roman was certain he could trust them, and Logan seemed to agree. They certainly wouldn’t be able to pull their plan off with only two of them. Getting Patton and Virgil to see the necessity in it, though...well that was the first hurdle they were trying to clear.

“It seems like a drastic measure to take, even with the lord’s uh...mood as of late.” Patton squirmed on the haystack he was curled up on, pointedly ignoring the baffled expression Virgil threw him.

“A drastic measure? You think? This is treason, Patton! We’ll be hanged!” Virgil turned to glare at the two men across from him. “We will be hanged. There has to be a better way.’

“We will have the will forged and officiated before the wedding, and then arrange it to look like his death was natural. As long as we can figure out a way to do that it’s a fairly simple process.” Logan held his hands in front of him in a pleading gesture. “Even if we can’t find a way to make it look natural, I assure you Lord Howard has enough enemies grabbing at his various businesses and properties that it’d be anyone’s guess who tried killing him off. Half of them would end up paying investigators off just to avoid any public suspicion, it is almost guaranteed that no one would expect Roman to be the culprit.”

Virgil stared at him. “You’ve thought this through. Logan, why have you thought this through?”

Patton reached over and grabbed Virgil’s hand, rubbing soothing motions against his knuckles while humming softly. Virgil’s shoulders remained tense but he leaned against the attendant's shoulder, taking a shuddering breath as he raised his eyes to the ceiling.

“I think...” Patton said slowly. “I think that maybe while we have this opportunity we should take it. Not that I take any pride in using you Roman!” He was quick to assure. “But- I’ve seen the way he gets...and how he is getting. People like that only worsen with age, and I’d rather not see any of us hurt...more.”

Roman touched his cheek self-consciously, trying to subtly cover up the spot where he had wiped the make-up off, but of course fooling no one. Patton glanced away but Virgil’s gaze only hardened, squeezing the other man’s hand and swearing under his breath.

“I guess....I guess all of us here- everyone at the estate really- would benefit from him not being in charge. It’s still incredibly risky.” Here Virgil glared daggers at Logan and Roman specifically. “But I think with the right people...the right poison maybe, it could work.”

“Do you have a suggestion?” Logan asked curiously.

“Not me, but I know people that might. What are we thinking the time table will be for this?”

Roman perked up as they all looked at him. “Well...it might be a good idea to carry it out a good while after the wedding. If it happens immediately after, it would look a lot more suspicious than if we waited.”

Logan frowned. “But Roman-”

“Logan, you know I’m right.” Roman startled a bit at the sheer amount of concern he saw in Logan’s eyes, but gave him a small smile as reassurance. “I’ll be fine until then.”

“Well,” Both of their heads snapped around to face Virgil again, neither acknowledging the slight pink in their cheeks. “If we’re waiting that long that’s plenty of time for me to get in contact with my guys and figure something out. Really it shouldn’t be too hard.”

Patton made a small noise in the back of his throat. “Um, exactly what kind of guys, Virgil?”

Virgil laughed outright. “Oh, total degenerates for sure! But they’re also both idiots, and that didn’t change when they set up their apothecary, so I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

“So it’s set then? We’re doing this?” Roman couldn’t help the hopeful edge to his tone, and he immediately felt a stab of guilt.

What would his friends think of him now, so eager to take such a drastic measure? But a quick glance at their faces revealed only sympathy and determination, and he forced himself to breathe. There was a reason he’d come to these three specifically, and now he had to trust that he’d made the right call.

“Yes.” Logan said, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze, and Roman felt himself relax. “We are.”

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#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logince #moxiety #you dont own me #ydom

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blookmallow · 3 years

Text

hi i binged through all of salad fingers for the first time in like 8 years and im fixating again here are. My Theories. pls talk to me if anyone else has Thoughts or wants to discuss things. this is really long i am sorry :’ )

also shout out to the salad fingers wiki for helping me keep track of details and also for this

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thought: salad fingers is not violent on purpose he did not mean to kill that kid

this is less a theory and more “if you slander my boy with accusations i will Get you” but listen. i see people going “but he mURDERED A CHILD!!” because of the oven incident but listen. listen to me. he didnt mean to and cannot be held to the same standard of morality and understanding consequences as a. person who isn’t..... in whatever situation and mental state he has going on

- yes, the kid getting trapped in the oven was his fault. but it was not intentional or malicious and i sincerely doubt he understands what happened or why.

he was asking for help reaching the fish (there’s no reason to believe he wasn’t just genuinely asking for help. he tears up in gratitude. theres no evidence of him Tricking People Maliciously in any other context i do not believe he would do that) and was distracted by the rusty nail, causing him to let go of the door. it wasn’t “he cares more about rust than about a child’s life” or something, i dont think he can actually hold “hey look at that i gotta check that out” and “i need to hold the door open so the child doesn’t get hurt” in his head at the same time, rust is his favorite stim/an impulse thing that takes over everything else and his perception of reality and the things going on around him changes very quickly and easily. more on that later. but the important point here is it wasn’t a malicious plot, or a neglectful careless action, he literally did not realize letting go of the door would cause harm

he stabbed himself accidentally with the nail and passed out for a while (the fact that he immediately bled that much is concerning too, he probably has hemophilia which is. a medical condition outside of his control, as well) and after all that he had completely forgotten about the child altogether (and says “i must have dozed off” so he doesn’t even understand he passed out. and might not remember the nail thing in the first place)

we don’t see what happened after this, we don’t know how he responds when he investigates the fish and inevitably finds an unexpected charred corpse in there, but i guarantee he won’t remember why its in there or understand that its a corpse. we dont see it again so its. entirely possible he didnt recognize it as a person and either just disposed of it or, uh, ate it. but if he did, it wasn’t with the knowledge and comprehension of it being A Corpse or the memory of how it got there

theory: on salad fingers and memory / comprehension of death and consequences

more on that subject

- we see him frequently doing things and then immediately forgetting he did it or forgetting what was happening. he accidentally squishes the bug (which also was not malicious or intentional, he intended to pet it but just. went too hard) and has no understanding either that its dead, or that he killed it. she has gone flat and gooey for some unknown reason. that’s strange. she needs to go have a wash, that’s no way to be.

he eats the jeremy fisher puppet at one point and then immediately goes “where have you gotten to??”

he even briefly forgets hubert cumberdale’s name and immediately comes up with another one without realizing it, and then later goes back to hubert cumberdale again with no mention of barbara logan-price

he refers to the same little yellow guy as “young child” and also Auntie Bainbridge later on. he keeps up the fantasy of... whatever the fuck yvonne was being his child for a pretty long time but then when he arrives at “auntie bainbridge” ‘s house he suddenly forgets why he’s there, and even apparently forgets what yvonne is and uses ‘her’ as a window rag instead and never mentions it again (I also don’t think she was in the sandwich at the end either. it’s hard to see but the sandwich contents are vaguely brown and theres a visible lump in the black goo behind him. i like the idea that the lil yellow guy made the sandwich for him)

salad fingers is constantly subconsciously adjusting his reality to fit Whatever Makes The Most Sense At The Time and does not consistently remember things (sometimes even major things. he remembers his puppets the most consistently and still even forgets hubert’s name) or have a concept of cause and effect

i think he possibly has some sense of recognition, “I’ve seen this person before,” but doesn’t always remember Why he knows them, and his mind just automatically fills in the blank with whatever makes sense to him. he doesn’t remember who the yellow guy is, but knows he knows them Somehow, so, ah, of course, it must be auntie bainbridge out for her sunday stroll :) and he knows he’s there for a reason, but not what that reason was, so he decides it must be time to clean the windows

- milford cubicle was already dead when salad fingers opens the door, but he has no idea that hes dead. this isn’t even a cause for concern. my, he must be tired, that’s all. he kept milford there until he rotted away, too, so there was never a point where he realized anything was wrong (until he became skeleton. more on That later too)

- he finds a corpse buried in the yard and rather than confronting the confusing and alarming reality of that situation, why it must be kenneth, back from the great war! at no point does he understand kenneth is definitely dead

theory: kenneth vs glass brother

i think he really did have a brother named kenneth who probably died in the war. could be some subconscious connection between “recognizing” a corpse as his brother, but i dont think he realizes any of that. i think the glass family is probably a trauma based hallucination, but a... well, reflection. pun not exactly intended lmao. on how his real family was and how they treated him

i dont think glass brother is the same brother as kenneth, since salad fingers interacts with them completely differently

kenneth is a corpse that salad fingers projects a personality on and speaks for, while glass brother seems independent and malicious toward him. i think he had a good relationship with kenneth (so, when salad fingers imagines that he’s here, it’s cause for celebration and he’s projecting onto something inert and “safe”) and also had another brother (who was probably his twin) who bullied him and acted violently, so when that trauma resurfaces, he hallucinates a vicious Other that he cannot control or speak for.

it also tracks that the abusive brother was his twin - he sees himself reflected in the mirror, and something in his own face reminds him of that lost brother until it “becomes” him

he refers to kenneth as his younger brother, and sees him as a being that does not look like him, while glass brother is literally his reflection, so it would make sense if he had one identical twin and one younger brother

ive seen theories that he had a real sister named bordois too, but i think him calling the bug “little sister” was just. a term of endearment or one of his little odd language quirks, he seemed to be talking to it more like a pet than like a sibling

theory: regarding mable

- ok people are saying salad fingers killed mable at the picnic but i Really Don’t Think He Did

we never see him acting out violently when he gets scared. he tends to try to escape situations that stress him out, he shrinks, he cries, he goes into his cupboard (which is. incredibly upsetting given the fact he was almost definitely abused by his family)

he takes on a kind of Authoritative Tone often, he gets sort of ruffled up and disdainful toward things, but that’s not what he does when he’s scared

when he’s actually distressed (rather than irritated) he tends to break down and retreat. this includes when other independent beings act in ways that unsettle and upset him

so i dont know where the “he freaked out and killed her” idea is coming from. he suddenly goes from outside at the picnic to having a breakdown in his house so. he most likely just ran

i think the Only time we see him act out violently is when he decides he has to punish marjory for not getting a haircut like he asked - he tears her hair out, but for me that scene was particularly concerning because it was so unlike him. that was an anger response, not a fear response, though, and he tends to be harsher toward things that he’s actually controlling (I don’t think we ever see him decide to Discipline something that was independent from him other than the horses, and he didnt hurt them)

ordinarily when something irritates him he just goes “hmph! so distasteful. how rude. i shan’t have this behavior, you know” but doesn’t really actually do anything about it, and moves on

anyway we never see mable again so i think either he freaked out and ran away and she just didn’t come back, or he scared her and she ran away, or both

there’s a dress visible briefly when salad fingers is making his Flesh Boy which could be mable’s (he did comment he liked it) but it’s not 100% clear, and that doesn’t necessarily mean he KILLED her for it. she could have changed into something else and left it somewhere and he found it. she could have died under unrelated circumstances, and salad fingers found her - he doesn’t comprehend death, so. probably he decided they’ve made amends now and she’s given him her dress as a token of friendship, or something

i dont think it really looks that significantly like hers but the fact that it stands out so distinctly from the rest of the Pile could mean something

but i just feel like if he had killed her we would’ve seen her corpse again, he doesn’t have a concept of murder, or death at all, or consequences, and his memory doesn’t hold out that consistently, so if he killed her, he probably would have calmed down later and then forgotten what he did and came up with a new way to explain the corpse in front of him - oh, how rude of me, mable’s here dozing right off and i havent even offered her a blanket. let’s get you to bed

like, he probably would have dragged her home with him, with the intention of being a good friend/host to his guest, not understanding what happened. he kept milford cubicle around a really long time

it wouldn’t be like him to have any concept of hiding the evidence

speaking of milford

theory: regarding milford cubicle

salad fingers keeps milford’s corpse around until it starts rotting, and then after a very confusing series of events, the corpse is suddenly a skeleton, which surprisingly alarms salad fingers considerably, and then he goes out to find a whole bunch of himselves eating various bits of gore. they give him a present, which is a hat very clearly made of milford’s skin

my conclusion: salad fingers, in some kind of dissociative fugue state, skinned and ate the remains of milford cubicle himself and turned the remaining skin into a hat. he also saves some of it to make hubert cumberdale (the real boy) later as well, probably forgetting where it came from. he does not realize he’s done this or remember doing it, so his scrambled mind tries to make sense of it with other selves eating unknown flesh, and a lovely hat appearing (which he doesn’t seem to notice is made of flesh)

you can also see milford’s original name tag in the drawer later on when he’s building the flesh boy, so. he kept that after the mysterious disappearance of milford’s flesh, apparently. more evidence that that skin is probably also his

some other scattered thoughts regarding the most recent string of episodes and salad fingers’ mental state:

ive been trying to figure out what the fuckhell happened with the yvonne incident and everything that happened in the birthday episode

im really concerned for salad fingers’ health and mental state, as it seems to be deteriorating

some yvonne theories ive seen:

1. he ate the burned corpse of the kid who died in the oven, and it made him very sick, which ultimately resulted in a charred mass he couldn’t digest - he steadily gets worse, until his body finally ejects it (yvonne’s “birth”) and after that his health starts to recover again. since the oven incident happens really early on, all the times he mentions his stomach being upset after that until he becomes deathly ill would make sense, so i think this is plausible

2. the hair he found in the cupboard was actually a parasitic worm that grew in his stomach after he ate it and became yvonne. i think this is Possible, it is a really strangely wormy looking hair, but it doesn’t move and he mentions stomach pains before this, so it seems less likely to me

3. i also saw the concept that salad fingers is a trans man who suffered a miscarriage at some point in his past and yvonne represents that, and i can definitely see where the idea is coming from but i do think something really physically happened to him in the present time, i dont think it was all a trauma-based hallucination, since the yellow guy reacts to the black ooze and something was definitely making him severely ill

so. i Don’t Know what the fuck that was about but i think the burnt corpse theory makes the most sense

on that note: there’s a lot of cannibalism imagery in salad fingers

we have no IDEA where he’s getting food from. im pretty sure its been confirmed that he is Not a zombie, we see him bleed, pass out, sleep, etc so it seems like he must be a living person who has ordinary needs. but we see him eat... his own puppets. hairs. sand. the soup glass mother instructed him to make, which made him very sick. he has a working oven but doesn’t seem to have consistent access to water. he had a fish somehow but who knows where it came from. it’s very likely he doesn’t get food often and some of his hallucinations and mood swings could be caused by starvation (and when he does eat, it’s things that are outright inedible or probably not good for him)

the burned corpse disappears and is never mentioned again (though salad fingers is very sick afterward). milford’s flesh disappears and salad fingers violently hallucinates multiple selves gorging themselves on unknown flesh

and what concerns me the most about that is that he loses a lot of time in that episode

he passes out in the woods and when he wakes up, it looks like a shit ton of time has passed

we don’t know how much is reality and how much is his warped perception, but it looks like a tree has grown and his physical condition has deteriorated

he looks really, really unhealthy and haggard for the rest of the episode

i think he had a huge dissociative episode and lost possibly weeks of time, probably due to starvation, and he ate milford cubicle and very possibly other people as well

so my question is. how often does this happen to him

and what happens to him during that state? does he become violent and dangerous without being aware of it when he returns to himself again? or has he just been ravenously scavenging corpses when he gets desperate enough?

its possible dr papanak is another personality he has, one that’s “buried out in the woods” that he becomes when he’s in a really, really bad mental and physical state

he looks much better in the next episode (though that’s also when he has his outburst with marjory. could be that he’s still staving off the violent urges/hasn’t fully come back to himself after the last incident) and I’m really hoping the fact that he was able to finally stand up to his family (at least in some sense) and smash the mirrors could mean he’s making steps toward recovery after whatever the hell all that was

there’s not really much space to do anything with his life or get much help given the circumstances but watching him slowly losing himself even more is Awful :(

i hope we get more episodes im so desperate for more information now

lastly, some random observations

i tried to read this newspaper and it looks like it’s actually written in french, which is interesting given that salad fingers seems to be british (but fond of france, and seems to speak french or at least knows one phrase)

i wonder where he got this, or whether it ever meant something significant to him

theres a lot of evidence that he can’t read (takes no notice of the “harry” nametag and immediately names him something else, “reads” a letter that is actually a newspaper clipping in another language he’s holding upside down, “writes” a letter that is just scribbles) so i dont think he learned his one french phrase from this or anything but, still. vaguely interesting. maybe he has been to france before and brought this back with him for some reason. maybe he’s actually in post apocalyptic france and was just originally from england. We Don’t Know

theres a weird little face in the. heater? whatever that is in the background for a second and i dont like it

salad fingers leaves horace in charge, but then sees him (as a live horse) in the woods, but then comes back to find him both still on the shelf (as a toy) and in the room (as a live horse, now with his, uh, surgery scars) but doesn’t seem to notice this and doesn’t comment on it

i dont know what the hell that means other than possibly his reality is even less consistent and logical than usual/a reflection on his mental state deteriorating

#salad fingers #pinned #media analysis

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hazel-light · 3 years

Text

Chapter Word Count: ~7,400

Total Fic Word Count: ~30,000

Genre: (Wedding) Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, lots of bed sharing and every self indulgent fluffy trope possible.

Warnings: None? Lots of fluff? Occasional cussing? Some suggestive themes, moments, and jokes I guess. No smut or anything!

Disclaimer: I am not Daniel Sharman, and I do not pretend to know how he would act, speak, etc. This is fiction okay, there’s a lot of creative license, and potential to be OOC. Ricky isn’t mentioned because I started writing this before we knew he existed, so apologies for that. Also, if you’re DShar himself, please do us both a favor and don’t read this, okay???? Same if you know him 🙈

Title taken from the song Yellow Lights by Harry Hudson which suits this story quite a bit!

A/N: You thought I'd skip all the possibilities and tropes that come with the holidays?! Of course not. This is the final part to Yellow Lights. Thank you all for making my return to writing and posting so wonderful. I am so, so, grateful. I hope the ending lives up to your expectations. <3

The next month and a half passes by uneventfully. I try not to spend all of my time thinking about how great Rachel's wedding was, and equally try to ignore the wistful feeling Henry’s wedding left me with. Having Daniel be my fake boyfriend in front of my family showed me everything that I’d ever wanted; someone who fit in seamlessly, who loved me for me, with the perfect balance of romance and friendship. Whatever crush I had successfully buried when Daniel and I first met is now achingly hard to avoid. I curse my active imagination and optimism for letting me indulge in the moments of pretend, leaning too comfortably into our façade.

As a result, I don’t talk to Daniel much. He is busy finishing filming his project in London, and I try to focus on my life in LA. I’ve become paranoid that every text I send him is one too many, too annoying, or too bothersome. I figure I can reassess things when Daniel comes home from filming, and try to find my footing in our friendship again.

This seems like a solid plan until I’m on Zoom with my family for Thanksgiving. Since I’ve already flown back once this year for the wedding, and I’m planning to fly back again next month for Christmas, staying put for Thanksgiving was the economical choice. The call is mostly uneventful until the subject of Daniel comes up.

“Where’s that boy?” Aunt Judith crows from her spot at the dining table.

“Hmm?” I ask.

“She means Daniel.” Ryan rolls his eyes, bringing the iPad closer to her.

“Oh! Right.” I try to recover. “He’s still away filming his new project, actually, but I was able to fly out to see him at the end of September for another wedding, actually.”

Aunt Judith frowns. “That’s a long time to not see someone that handsome—” I start to laugh, “Are you sure he’s not cheating on you?”

Oh shit. It’s in this moment that I realize Daniel and I had never “broken up” as far as my family knows. I hear the rest of my family start sputtering in the background.

“Aunt Judith— you can’t just—”

“That’s awful, I—”

“It is kind of a long time, huh?—”

I try to keep a straight face. “Guys! It’s okay. He’s an actor, it comes with the territory. I expected this.”

“So you aren’t sure that he’s not cheating on you?” Ryan frowns.

“That isn’t what I meant, Ry. Daniel and I are fine. We’re really good, actually.”

“Well I certainly hope you’ll be bringing him home for Christmas then.” Aunt Judith huffs.

“It would be nice to see him,” Rachel speaks up for the first time, and her husband Nick nods. “I didn’t get to talk to him a whole lot at the wedding.”

I clear my throat, my mind racing. “You know, we haven’t actually talked about what we’re doing for Christmas yet; I’ll have to see what he’s doing— if he’s going to spend it with his family.”

“But you’re still coming home,” Ryan states.

“Yes, I am still coming home, no matter what.”

Ryan and Rachel’s mom, my auntie Kim speaks up. “I think it’s pretty common for a boyfriend to defer to his girlfriend’s family for the holidays. I mean, Ryan splits the day with Katharine of course, but Nick always came here with Rachel.”

“I hear you, Auntie Kim, but Daniel never gets to see his family so I’m not sure— all I’m saying is I’m not sure. He may very well come, and I will let you all know as soon as I know.” I smile tersely.

“Well hurry up, and find out,” Auntie Kim chastises. “Christmas is only a month away.”

When I hang up with them, it’s 7pm and I’m feeling antsy. How could I have forgotten that my entire family still thought Daniel and I were together? I’m not sure how to get out of this one. Tired of panicking alone in my head, I pick up my phone and dial Daniel before I can talk myself out of it. It rings and rings, and my anxiety that he won’t answer grows with each tone.

Eventually I hear rustling on the other line.

“Lauren?” Daniel’s voice crackles through the phone.

“Hi.”

“Are you alright?”

“What? Uh— yeah, I just needed to talk to you about something—” I glance at the time on my phone. “Oh god, no. What time is it there? I’m so sorry— I didn’t even stop to think about the time difference, I—”

I hear him suppress a yawn. “Lauren. It must be pretty important if you’re calling me AND rambling like this.”

“No, no, it can wait, I’m sorry— uh, go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Lauren,” he stops me softly and firmly. “Stop apologizing. What’s going on?”

I sit quietly, feeling like an absolute idiot.

“Lauren, come on. You can tell me.”

“I— we… we never broke up?”

He laughs. “Sorry, what?”

“We never broke up.”

“Am I still asleep, is this a dream?”

“My family still thinks we’re together and they asked me if you’re coming home for Christmas.”

We’re both quiet for a moment.

“Oh.” is all he says.

“I talked to them for Thanksgiving, and they were asking about you. I realized too late that they thought we were still together— because I never told them we broke up. I didn’t think it through this far.”

“Right, I didn’t either.”

My phone starts ringing, telling me Daniel’s trying to FaceTime me.

I accept, and I’m faced with a dark screen.

“Why are we FaceTiming?”

I hear a lamp click on and suddenly Daniel’s face is illuminated as he lays in bed, lines from his pillow still on his face.

“Figured we should at least be able to see each other if you’re going to break up with me in the middle of the night,” he teases.

I shake my head. “Not funny, this is serious, D.”

“I know, I know.”

“If I break up with you, they’re going to yell at me and tell me I’m a stupid idiot.”

Daniel laughs.

“And if you break up with me they’re going to hate you, which means they’ll hate that we managed to ‘stay friends.’ And if it’s mutual…..” I shake my head, thinking. “They’ll think we were lying.”

“Which we were.”

I sigh, “Which we were.”

“So,” Daniel pulls his blanket up higher. “What are our options here?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I called you.”

I watch him stare off into space and reminisce about when I got to see this sleepy Daniel firsthand in Cape Cod.

“I could come for Christmas…” he trails off and I frown.

“That seems like asking a lot. You’ve already given up a lot of your free time this year for me.”

He shrugs into his pillow. “Do you not want me to come for Christmas?”

I pause. “I mean, that isn’t really the issue here. You have to be tired of being in love with me by now.”

He laughs loudly — a stark contrast to the quiet of his room. “Yes, being in love with you is very exhausting.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I’m kidding. Being in love with you is not exhausting. At all.”

I roll my eyes and say nothing. “I don’t think I can bear to break your family’s hearts at Christmas of all times.”

“Man of the year.” I drawl. “What are you supposed to be doing for Christmas? Going home?”

“No, usually I travel somewhere, but I hadn't decided yet.”

I hum in response.

“Kind of leaning towards traveling to Massachusetts now, if I’m honest.”

I look at him incredulously, only to see a playful grin on his face, but I know he’s serious.

“I’m not going to stop you if you really want to come. But I—” I swallow. “Eventually we’re going to need to plan for whatever happens after Christmas.”

He nods. “I know, we will. Let’s just enjoy Christmas together, first.”

I smile. “Okay. We can enjoy it. Together.”

He clears his throat. “I hope I’m not too rusty at this boyfriend performance, it’s been a few months.”

“Daniel Sharman has performance issues… I hope that doesn’t get out to the press.”

His eyes flash. “Bold, for you.”

I shrug. “You walked into that one, baby.”

“Well, you’re lucky you’re cute, darling.”

We look at each other for a moment, and I hope my eyes don’t give away how fond I am for this man who is willing to commit to fake-loving me, and putting up with my family, and who is setting the bar way too high for any actual real relationship I could hope for.

So much for reburying my feelings.

I break eye contact first. “I’ll let you get back to sleep. Sorry again for waking you up.”

“Do Not Disturb doesn’t apply to you, Lauren. Call any time.”

I smile softly. “Sweet dreams, I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

—-

I’m standing in the Boston Logan airport waiting for international arrivals; specifically Daniel’s flight from London. According to the board, his flight landed 15 minutes ago, so he should be coming to the lobby any time now. I bounce on my feet, simultaneously eager and nervous to see Daniel for the first time since parting ways after Henry and Claire’s wedding.

Eventually I see the hat and sunglasses I recognize from a selfie he sent me earlier, and I can feel my heart race. I begin walking towards him, and feel my pace quicken as I get closer. Eventually he sees me too and he’s grinning at me with his signature toothy smile that I missed so much.

When we come into contact I don’t know what the appropriate response is, so I simply grin up at him.

“Hi,” I breathe.

“Hi,” he smiles back, and before I know it he’s closer than he was before and he’s ducking down to kiss me.

It surprises me but I respond quickly, leaning up to meet him.

When it’s over he pulls back just enough to nuzzle his nose with mine.

“Missed you,” he says softly.

“Missed you most.” I smile.

He stands up straight, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, threading his other hand through mine.

I can’t see his eyes, but I assume he must be looking around when he speaks.

“Oh, are you by yourself?”

The question catches me off guard.

“Yeah— well, Ryan’s in the car, circling so he wouldn’t have to pay for parking,” I roll my eyes.

He nods, “Sorry, then—“ he makes an inconclusive gesture. “Suppose I didn’t need to kiss you quite yet.”

My stomach drops and I smile tightly, “That’s okay— better safe than sorry. I get it.”

He tugs on my hand pulling me into a hug.

“I did miss you, though.”

“And I still missed you most.” I tease.

Daniel shakes his head, but doesn’t argue, pulling back from me and reaching for his suitcase with his freehand.

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

—-

I bring Daniel upstairs to show him around, and so he can put his suitcase in my room.

“Welcome to my childhood bedroom,” I announce, opening the door and leading Daniel inside.

“Wow, where little Lauren grew up,” Daniel teases looking around. When I first arrived home yesterday, I was quick to tidy up, and hide anything that was too embarrassing, but my room is more or less the exact same as I had left it when I was 18 and moving to college.

I nod. “Yes, many secrets to my backstory can be discovered in here.”

Daniel laughs.

Ryan appears in my doorway leaning against the doorframe.

“Just so you know, Daniel, my bedroom is on the other side of this wall,” he nods to his right. “I can hear everything that happens in here. The walls are thin.”

I frown, blushing, “Ew, Ryan.”

Daniel just laughs and smirks, “Got it, bro.”

I look at him incredulously, “Don’t encourage him.”

The two share a look and shrug, seemingly equally enjoying my discomfort.

“Dinner’s ready!” Auntie Kim calls up to us.

I use that as my cue, brushing past both of them to go downstairs, leaving their laughter behind me.

—-

After Christmas Eve dinner, Katharine stops by and the four of us decide to watch the classic, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I’m the last to arrive in the living room, and when I enter I immediately notice that Ryan is cuddled up with Katharine, and sprawled out over the entire couch, leaving Daniel sitting in the only other seat— the armchair.

I narrow my eyes at them, “Are you guys for real?”

Ryan looks at us and hums innocently, “What?”

“You took the entire couch.”

I see Katharine bite her lip in amusement, as Ryan shrugs.

“I assumed you guys would cuddle anyway. Can you not share the armchair?”

Daniel intervenes, “Of course we can. C’mon Laur.”

He pats his lap. I hesitate briefly before nestling into his lap, tucking my head into his neck.

“Am I crushing you?” I whisper.

“Not at all, you’re keeping me warm.”

I huff a laugh as he puts the blanket over us and Ryan starts the movie. The steady rise and fall of his chest brings me a sense of peace and I have to try not to fall asleep, especially when his fingers gently caress my arm and my leg where he’s holding me to him. I exhale, turning further into his neck and nuzzling into him.

“Tickles,” he breathes, just shy of a whisper.

“You smell good,” I tell him, letting my eyes close.

His chuckle reverberates through his body. “Thanks, darling.”

I feel my eyes shut and sleep take over. I start to come to when I hear the ending song come on, and it drifts into whatever dream I’m having.

“She asleep?” I hear Ryan ask.

“Think so,” Daniel answers.

“You need help waking her up?”

“No, I’ve got it, thanks though. Nice seeing you, Katharine.”

I hear footsteps retreat and feel a series of kisses pressed to my shoulder, as Daniel’s long fingers brush hair away from my face.

“Time to wake up, pretty girl. You can go back to sleep once we’re in your bed.”

I shake my head no, clinging to him tighter.

“Like this bed.” I murmur drowsily.

He laughs softly. “Promise we can cuddle there too.”

“Promise?” I ask, peeking one eye open.

“I promise,” he confirms, pressing one more kiss to my shoulder.

I lift my head to look at him, rubbing my eyes.

“There she is,” he smiles gently at me.

I smile back sleepily, the words coming out before I fully think them through.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.”

I swallow, letting my gaze flicker down to his mouth for just a moment. “I like cuddling with you.”

“You do, huh?”

I nod.

“Well the feeling’s mutual. Let’s go upstairs and brush our teeth so we can cuddle more in your bed.”

“Okay,” I relent, getting off of him. He stands up after me and I instinctively lace my fingers with his, leading us back upstairs. When we’re brushed and changed, we settle ourselves in bed and I claim my spot tucked into his neck again.

“Sweet dreams,” he says, kissing the top of my head. I echo the sentiment and gently kiss the spot on his neck I’m closest to. His arms tighten around me and I’m falling asleep again.

—-

For once, I wake up before Daniel. He looks peaceful as he sleeps on his stomach, his arm across my waist, face half smushed into the pillow. I turn my head to look at the clock to see it’s about 9:30 and know the others will be waking up soon. I turn back to Daniel and card my fingers gently through his hair. Eventually his breathing changes and his eyes flutter open, still clouded with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” I whisper, our faces just inches apart.

He pulls himself closer to me, nuzzling into my side and closing his eyes again. “Merry Christmas.”

It’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again, voice raspy with sleep. “Is everyone else awake?”

“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t heard anyone up and around… they might be soon. Usually we kind of wander downstairs around 10, and it’s just past 9:30.”

He hums in response.

“You can go back to sleep for a little while if you want,” I offer, still running my fingers through his hair. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to go downstairs.”

I start to think he’s drifted off to sleep again when he opens his eyes and looks at me. “No, I can get up. I want to give you your present.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I told you not to get me anything; you coming here like this with me— twice— is more than enough.”

He rolls his eyes, detaching himself from me and rolling out of bed. “And look like the asshole who didn’t get his girlfriend anything for Christmas? Not a chance.”

I sit up. “We could’ve lied about it—”

“Lauren,” Daniel looks back at me exasperatedly, leaning over his suitcase. “It’s Christmas. Please just open your present.”

He pulls out a neatly wrapped, thin rectangle and places it in my lap, sitting next to me on the bed.

“Merry Christmas, Laur.”

I carefully unwrap the package to reveal a framed art print, with a circle of stars in the middle; underneath it says “The Night Everything Changed” with the coordinates of what I assume to be Los Angeles. I look up to him with soft eyes, and he gives a one shouldered shrug.

“Saw an ad for this online— where you can get the night sky documented of any night you want, anywhere you want. I thought it would be nice to commemorate this past year, for us…” he trails off, and I hug the frame to my chest.

“Daniel, I love it— Really, really love it. It’s so thoughtful.” I reach out and thread our fingers together. “I’m going to hang this in my room. I want it somewhere I see every day.”

He smiles and squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you like it. I actually wanted to talk to you about something— in relation to this. I—”

We’re interrupted by a light knocking on the door, and we both turn.

“Are you guys awake?” Ryan’s voice calls.

“Yeah, we’ll be out in a sec!” I answer.

I turn back to Daniel who squeezes my hand and moves to get up, but I pull him back.

“They can wait; this is special. I want to hear what you have to say.” I smile at him warmly, but he shakes his head, lifting the back of my hand to kiss it.

“It’s alright, I’d rather wait and tell you when we have more time to talk.”

I frown. “Promise me you won’t forget?”

He laughs. “Trust me, I won’t forget.”

He moves to stand, pulling me up with him to go downstairs, but I stop him, wrapping my arms around him tightly.

“Thank you, D. It means a lot to me.”

He returns my embrace, placing a kiss to the top of my head.

When we pull apart, I take his hand again. “Time for Christmas. Your present is under the tree, by the way.”

Daniel laughs. “A present double-standard.”

I shake my head and lead him out of the room.

—-

I think we’re done with presents when Ryan surprises me, coming over to Daniel and I on the loveseat.

“This is for both of you, kind of.” He hands me a thin, narrow gift.

Daniel looks up, surprised. “Thanks, man. That was thoughtful of you.”

He looks at me, silently asking, did you know about this?, and I shake my head no.

I unwrap the package to find a small frame, with a one hundred dollar bill matted in the middle. I look at Ryan and furrow my eyebrows.

“It's the hundred bucks I said I’d give you if you brought a real date to Rachel’s wedding. Seeing as the same guy is here for Christmas I figured you earned it. Thought I’d frame it— but you can take it out and spend it on a date or something, I don’t care.”

Auntie Kim squints. “Sorry, you told her what?”

I roll my eyes and try to avoid the way my stomach sinks at the reminder of how this all started.

I feel Daniel’s hand on my knee. “Clever, Ryan.”

I look over at him to see him flashing his polite interview smile, and I instantly know he knows exactly what I’m feeling.

Auntie Kim stands and stretches. “I don’t get it, but I’m going to go start breakfast. Your sister and Nick are picking up Judith soon and then they’re coming over. Katharine isn’t coming until dinner, right, Ryan?”

As Ryan confirms, she walks out of the room. Ryan turns back to us. “Mind if I shower first?”

I shake my head no, still lost in my thoughts, and I hear Daniel tell him to go ahead.

We’re left alone and I feel Daniel’s thumb brushing my knee.

“Thank you for my presents.”

“You’re welcome— I’m glad you like them; they don’t beat your present for me though.”

He rolls his eyes and we sit for a moment, the framed hundred dollar bill still in my hands.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

I look at him and shake my head. “I don’t know. Just an odd reminder of how this started, and that it’s going to have to end soon, I guess.”

Daniel frowns. “We haven’t really gotten to talk about that. Why don’t we table that for later— we still have a nice day ahead of us. Those are problems for tomorrow.”

I nod and smile at him, and he pulls me in to kiss my temple, and I hear the click of an iPhone camera. I look up to see Auntie Kim in the doorway.

“Sorry, I just wanted to tell you that the coffee’s on. It was too cute not to capture.”

Daniel stands up, offering me his hand. “Make sure you send me a copy. I’ll have to add it to my collection.”

I chuckle as I stand. “Let me guess; the album is called ‘Cute and Shit.’”

He grins. “How’d you know?”

—-

Christmas flies by. It’s filled with good food, wine, and everyone I love. It’s hours after dinner, and Auntie Kim has already driven Aunt Judith home before going to bed herself.

Ryan, Katharine, Daniel, and I are all still seated around the dining room table playing some kind of team card game, and everyone’s faces are red from laughter and wine.

I can’t help but watch Daniel, who is in some kind of hilarious argument with Ryan over some card he pulled. His eyes shine from the light of the chandelier, and his smile is big and bright, taking over his whole face.

It hits me in this moment that I’ve surpassed unlabeled romantic feelings; I am truly in love with this man. The realization consumes me until Katharine knocks her shoulder into mine giggling.

“Can you believe we love these idiots?”

“Sometimes it’s a hard pill to swallow,” I tease, giggling, catching Daniel’s eye mid-argument. He winks at me and I feel my already red cheeks flush even deeper.

“You two are so cute,” Katharine continues, watching our interaction. She lowers her voice, whispering to me behind her wine glass. “I was kind of worried that when you got a boyfriend he wouldn’t mesh well with our dynamic, ya know? But it kind of feels like Daniel’s always been here.”

Her words vocalize the thoughts that have been ringing in my head all day. “I know what you mean.”

Katharine dramatically clears her throat. “Are you two done? Is it our turn yet?”

—-

We part ways from Ryan and Katharine in the hallway, giggling and shushing each other in the wee hours of the morning. I shut my door behind me and waggle my eyebrows at Daniel.

“Uh oh, there’s trouble,” he teases. “Planning to seduce me?”

I shrug exaggeratedly and he laughs before looking around. “Fuck, where are my sweatpants?”

I giggle. “They’re literally right behind you on the chair.”

“Oh, thanks.” He grabs them before looking at me. “Can I change in here tonight?”

I flush. “Yeah, sure.”

After sharing a room together all this time, this is the first time we’ve changed in front of each other and the thought makes my skin tingle. I make my way over to my dresser, pulling out my own sleep shorts and t-shirt. I wiggle out of my pants and pull on my shorts, glancing over my shoulder to see Daniel, shirtless, adjusting his sweatpants on his hips. My throat runs dry, and I turn around to pull my own shirt over my head, reaching behind me to unclip my bra once it’s on. I bundle my discarded clothes in my hand, walking over to toss them in the hamper. I turn around to find Daniel already looking at me. He’s still shirtless and my eyes drift to his defined chest. He looks down as if noticing for the first time.

“It’s really, uh, hot in here.” He speaks again. “Would it bother you if I slept shirtless?”

I shake my head, mentally screaming. “No, it is warm,” I agree, reaching up to put my hair in a bun on top of my head.

He watches me intently, and I laugh self consciously. “What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about how this was the best Christmas I’ve had in a while.”

My face lights up. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I see his grin quirk up, and know something else is coming. “I’d say it was almost perfect.”

“Oh?” I question, finishing my bun. “Go on.”

“We fit in a lot of classic traditions today, but we missed one that I’m quite fond of.”

I look at him, trying to think of what it could be, as he takes a step closer to me.

“There wasn’t any mistletoe.”

I swallow. “There wasn’t.” I pause, my mind racing. Before I can fully think it through I find myself offering, “But we could pretend?”

“Hmm?” He murmurs, taking a step closer to me so he’s right in front of me now. I know he’s giving me a chance to take it back, or make a joke; I’m nervous, but I don’t want to take it back. I just really want to kiss him.

“I’d really like it if you had a perfect Christmas.”

“And you?” He questions softly. “What would make it a perfect Christmas for you?”

Instead of answering him, I reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him for a moment, pulling back to look him in the eyes. His eyes meet mine in some unspoken understanding, and then he’s dipping down to kiss me again.

He kisses me softly, delicately, like all the kisses at the wedding. He pulls back briefly to look at me, as if he still expects me to change my mind. I kiss him again, wanting there to be no doubt in his mind, and he kisses me back with purpose and passion, and I’m caught off guard by the weight of it. I gasp, and Daniel uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss, pulling me closer. It reminds me of our very first kiss back on his couch. My arms move around his neck, pulling our bodies flush together.

Daniel pulls away first, but barely, breathing hard, kissing down from my jaw to my neck.

This is definitely new territory for us.

I move my hands to his hair, and he groans at the feeling. I can’t help myself as I sigh breathlessly, a shiver running down my back. He grins against my neck, his teeth scraping at my skin and I moan softly.

“Wait,” I say breathlessly, a thought somehow flitting through my mind. “Earlier, didn’t you say there was something else I should know about my present?”

“I can tell you tomorrow,” he murmurs into my neck between kisses. “It’s time for bed.” He tugs me down onto the bed so I’m underneath him, resuming his kisses on my neck.

“This doesn't seem like going to sleep to me,” I tease.

“It is, shhhh, you’re dreaming.”

“That I’d believe,” I laugh, and Daniel smirks, moving so we're eye to eye again.

“Dream about me often?”

“Shhh.” I pull him closer, turning his words back on him. “You’re dreaming, go back to bed.”

“Happily,” he murmurs, kissing me again.

I bring my hands down to his bare shoulders, feeling his warm, toned skin against my fingertips. I gently drag my nails down his chest to his stomach, and I feel his muscles clench at my touch. I can’t help but smirk to myself as he pulls away to rest his forehead on my shoulder, letting out a shuddering breath. I bring my nails around his back, tracing up his taut muscles and across his shoulder blades.

I feel one of his hands come down, pushing my shirt up, his mouth pressing hot kisses to my abdomen. His nose takes over pushing my shirt up, exploring every new inch revealed with his mouth, his hand now running over my thigh, fingers squeezing occasionally, slowly climbing higher. As his hand reaches the bottom of my shorts, he lightly tugs at the fabric. He pauses, his blue eyes tentatively peering up at me.

“Can I…?” He looks nervous, like I’ll reject him. As if I have ever rejected him, or could ever manage to deny him. I’m not even entirely sure what he’s asking but I find myself nodding quickly. As he goes to tug my shorts down we hear a bang on the wall we share with Ryan followed by a crash, a “Shhhh” and a “Shit.”

We both startle and look over toward the wall, before looking back at each other and laughing softly.

“Ugh, I don’t want to know,” I say, shaking my head.

“You probably, definitely don’t.” He smiles at me before pulling his hand off my shorts, and my shirt back down, letting his fingers trace along the waistband of my shorts before he clears his throat. “We should, uh, get some sleep.”

I blink at the abrupt change in mood before nodding awkwardly. “Okay, sure.”

He rolls off of me, and I reach over to shut the lamp off. I’m hesitant to cuddle up to him, unsure if what just happened changed something between us, but I’m relieved when I feel his arm wrap around me the way it always does. Neither of us say anything, and I try not to think about the last few minutes, the firmness of his body behind mine, or the way my body’s buzzing— closing my eyes to try and get some rest.

—-

The next two days with my family go pretty much the same way as Christmas did. Daniel gets on swimmingly with everyone, and my heart aches every time I realize that once the holidays are over, our charade is going to come to an end—a permanent end— this time. I try to ignore that thought and enjoy my time, basking in the coupley moments in front of my family, and leaning into every touch we share.

I never get a chance to ask about my Christmas present; the time never feels right, and Daniel doesn’t bring it up either. Nothing happens between us like Christmas night; when bedtime rolls around we change in the bathroom and go straight to bed. We cuddle, but there’s no after-dark kisses or wandering hands. I wonder if Daniel feels as self-conscious about that night as I do; if he does, he doesn’t show it.

—-

We’re in my room packing to go back to LA in an effort to try to beat the inevitable New Year’s rush at the airport.

“I need to find something to wrap this in so it doesn’t break in my luggage,” I frown, holding up Daniel’s present. “It’s my new prized possession— nothing can happen to it.”

Daniel looks over and laughs. “Want me to wrap it in my sweatpants? That's what I did on the way here.”

“Okay, thank you.” I pad across the floor and pass him the frame, our fingers brushing in the process.

“Of course.” His lips quirk up as he carefully arranges the frame in his suitcase.

A moment passes, and I wonder if now is a good time to ask about my present .

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask—“

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you—“

We both stop mid-sentence and Daniel laughs, “Sorry what were you saying?”

I shake my head, courage gone. “No— sorry, go ahead.”

He looks at me curiously but continues, “Henry texted me; he and Claire invited us to their New Year’s Eve party. They’re having it in LA this year.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “Us? They want me to go?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, Claire apparently requested your presence specifically.”

“Oh, that’s nice of her. I usually stay in for New Year’s.”

“It could be fun— if you aren’t sick of me yet,” Daniel teases.

“Ha!" I laugh, "If you aren’t sick of me yet, more like.” I shake my head. “And don’t mind sharing your friends with me.”

“They’re basically your friends now, too,” he argues.

“I’m not sure one wedding constitutes that, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“You should come.”

I stop and look at him.

“I’ll call a car and pick you up on the way.”

When I hesitate, he softens his voice. “Please come.”

I swallow, “Okay.”

I’m not a big party person, but I also know I don’t have it in my heart to deny him, especially after everything he’s done for me.

He grins. “Really?”

I nod. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

“Cool, I’ll, uh, let them know we’re coming.”

I bite my lip to suppress my smile and start planning my outfit in my head.

—-

When we arrive at Claire and Henry’s house on New Year’s Eve, I try not to gawk at the size. It’s massive and sits high on one of the tallest hills in LA, away from the noise of the city.

The first person to spot us as we walk in is, unfortunately, Eleanor. I’d hoped she was in London, and away from us, but alas.

“Daniel!” she squeals, throwing her arms around him. “I was so hoping you’d be here.”

“Hi, El,” he placates her with a strained smile. “You remember Lauren?” He gestures back to me.

“Laura?” she asks, disinterested.

“Lauren,” I correct, forcing myself to smile. “Nice to see you again.”

“Eleanor,” Daniel intervenes. “Could you point us in the direction of Henry and Claire, perhaps?”

She frowns, but quickly covers it up. “They were in the kitchen last I checked— we have just got to catch up later.”

“We will!” He agrees graciously. “Let us get a drink, and I’m sure we'll have plenty of time to talk later.”

Daniel puts a hand on my back, guiding me forward and into another room, which turns out to be the kitchen. He’s immediately drawn into a series of bro hugs and handshakes by Henry and some of his other friends.

“Lauren! I’m so glad you came!” I turn to find Claire by a table of beverages.

“Claire! So nice to see you, thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming,” she says, pulling me into a quick hug. “I told Daniel he just had to bring you.”

I laugh. “He told me you were quite persistent— I usually have a low key New Year’s at home, but this is a fun change of pace.”

“Can I get you a drink?” She asks, already reaching for a bottle of champagne.

“Sure, thank you.” I catch Daniel’s eye across the room; he’s being clapped on the back and led out of the kitchen. I smile reassuringly, hoping to communicate that I’m fine here. He seems to understand, as he smiles back and nods before turning back to his friends.

Claire giggles, bringing my attention back to her.

“You look at him with such heart eyes, it’s cute.”

I try to keep my face from panicking. “Sorry?” She laughs like my reaction is the funniest thing in the world. “Oh don’t worry, he looks at you just the same, so you’re fine.”

I chuckle nervously. “I think maybe you’ve got the wrong impression—”

She shrugs like we’re talking about something commonplace, like the weather.

“Maybe, it’s possible... but I don’t think so. Now come! There’s some other girls I’d love for you to meet.”

—-

I spend a good portion of the night talking with Claire and her friends. They’re all very kind to me, but eventually I excuse myself to get some air out on the balcony.

I’m looking up at the sky — it’s dark, dotted with faint stars and a distant passing plane — when I hear somebody come out and join me. As they settle next to me against the railing I immediately know who it is just by how comfortable I feel.

“Whatcha doin out here, LaurLaur? The New Year’s only a few minutes away.”

I grin at him. “Just getting some air and admiring the stars. From up here you can actually see them.”

He hums, looking up with me.

“It reminds me of a certain piece of art a certain someone got me for Christmas.”

He chuckles. “I’m glad you like it so much.”

“It was very thoughtful…. I wonder if any of the stars are in the same places as they were that night.”

“Which night?”

“The night everything changed. Your birthday.”

Daniel leans against the railing facing me, and looks like he’s about to say something before he changes his mind.

Eventually he speaks again. “Things are going to change again soon, right? You said you’re sure about the break up?”

I swallow, scoffing my shoe against the balcony floor.

“I mean, we still need to figure it out, but you can’t keep fake dating me forever. That isn’t fair to you.”

He smiles wistfully. “It’s not like there was anyone else I was trying to date.”

“I’m a lucky girl,” I lament, and Daniel blushes and shakes his head. “It’s a real shame we’re over, though," I jest, trying to lighten the mood. "I’ve never gotten to kiss anyone at midnight.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”

“Nope,” I pop the p and look down at my feet.

“Well.” He clears his throat conspiratorially. “We can agree not to bring our fake relationship into the New Year if you want, but if the kiss starts before midnight, I think we’d get by on a technicality...”

I laugh. “You really want Eleanor to hate me, don’t you?”

He grins cheekily and shakes his head. “Nah, I think I saw her latched onto some other poor bugger inside. We’re in the clear.”

I roll my eyes, looking back up at the sky. I feel his finger trace my arm, gently using my elbow to turn my attention back towards him.

His voice is softer now, “It’s up to you, but there’s no one else I’d rather kiss at midnight.”

I look into his eyes and realize he’s being sincere. My heart’s beating out of my chest. Yes, I want to kiss him, but I want it to mean something. I keep giving in because I know one day this is all going to go away, and I’ll be left with just my memories and heartache.

He must see some hesitance in my eyes, because he’s taking a step back.

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine. Really.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Not trying to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

I shake my head. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just…” I trail off, looking over the balcony, trying to swallow my feelings, which have manifested as anxious tears in my eyes. I feel a tear escape, and I hastily reach up to wipe it away.

“Hey,” Daniel says gently. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” I let out a watery laugh. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m…”

I feel his steady stare, and I come to terms with the fact that I’ve really gotten myself into a mess that I can’t just smooth over. I’m going to have to tell him.

I take a minute to compose myself, and Daniel stays quiet giving me time to put my words together as I look anywhere but at him.

“I do want to kiss you, D,” I start slowly, trying to keep my voice steady, “but I can’t if it’s just another part of our fake relationship.”

He tugs me closer by hand, gently, so I have no choice but to look at him. I swallow the lump in my throat. “I… know this wasn’t supposed to be real. But it has been, for me.”

He shakes his head and squeezes my hand. “So then stop trying to break up with me.”

I blink at him, and he continues.

“The night everything changed— your star map— I wasn’t referencing the story we told your family about my birthday.” Daniel looks at me long and hard like I’m missing something totally obvious. “It’s actually the stars from a night a month or so later.”

A month or two— Oh. OH.

“The night Ryan FaceTimed me?” I whisper, afraid to be wrong.

He takes my other hand in his, lacing our fingers together. “Listen— Fuck. I’m in love with you, Lauren.” He looks at me so intensely and my head is spinning. “I love you, and I’m in love with you.”

“What?” I ask dumbly.

He licks his lips. “A wise woman once said to me, you don’t confess to ‘kind of like someone’ when you’ve already been friends as long as we have.”

I stare at him for a second, my cheeks burning. “Well your friend sounds pretty smart.” I swallow. “Because I love you, too.”

He laughs, relief flooding his features. He pulls me to his chest, crushing me and squeezing the air out of my lungs. Eventually he pulls back, hands cupping my face.

He grins and shakes his head. “She is smart, so, so smart, but I don’t want to be her friend anymore.”

“What do you mean?” My brows furrow in confusion, worried that somehow I’ve misread this whole interaction, my relief quickly being replaced by panic.

“Well.” He steps forward, keeping our faces incredibly close. “I’m hoping she agrees to be my very real girlfriend— that is, if she doesn’t break up with me first.”

I hear everyone inside start the countdown to midnight. I’m still looking into Daniel’s eyes in disbelief, my hands clinging to the front of his shirt.

When the countdown hits one, I’ve finally found the words I want to say.

“Happy New Year, boyfriend.”

He’s grinning as he kisses me, and I am too. It’s not our most elegant kiss, a mess of teeth and giggles, and whispered “I love you”s. We never stray too far from each other’s lips, kissing again and again like we can’t get enough— and maybe we can’t.

Eventually, we calm down a bit, and when we kiss this time it’s all-consuming, sucking the air out of my lungs. It feels like my love is fizzling to the top of my skin, and I feel it. ‘It’ being every indescribable emotion in our kisses this past year, but this time I know what it is: true, unadulterated, uninhibited love. I am in love with my best friend, who is now my boyfriend, and I don’t care who knows it— as long as he does.

His fingers press bruisingly into my hips before he pulls back just enough to look at me.

“Can we go home?” He whispers sheepishly, brushing some hair out of my face tenderly. “I’m kind of tired of sharing you with the public.”

I huff a laugh. “I know exactly what you mean.” I lean forward to kiss him one last time before pulling back to lace our fingers together, squeezing tightly. “Please— take me home, D.”

I don’t have to tell him twice.

---

tagged: @rogershoe @heyrowena @yunsh-17 @trenko-heart @dylxnshxrmxn

#THE END!!!!#can you believe it?!#daniel sharman fluff #daniel sharman x oc #daniel sharman fanfiction #daniel sharman fanfic #daniel sharman fic #daniel sharman imagine #yellow lights

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fific7 · 3 years

Text

Cold Day in Hell - Part 1

Logan Delos x Reader

A/N: This does not completely follow canon, it’s mainly lemon zest 🍋 because the world needs more Logan Delos.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in future chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

Logan Delos was bored. Mind-numbingly, screamingly, terminally bored. He was rapping out an irritated drum solo on the arm of his chair with his long fingers. He was shifting in his seat, constantly crossing and un-crossing his long legs. He was moving the papers on the conference table in front of him from side to side, then backwards and forwards.

The businessman who was talking through the main presentation had a voice that was flatter than roadkill and had only one tone... monotone.

Logan leant forward and propped his elbows on the conference table in front of him, using his fingers to physically hold open his eyelids as they kept closing of their own accord. He felt a yawn coming on and fought to stop his mouth opening to accommodate it... but failed.

He was aware of the door to the conference room opening behind him but didn’t even have the energy to turn and see who it was. This asshole is draining the fucking will to live out of me, he thought. He vaguely heard said asshole saying something about his colleague talking through the next section of the presentation.

Logan sat right up in his seat as he spotted a beautiful - no, stunning - woman making her way to the front of the room. She was dressed in ‘business smart’ but even those sensible items couldn’t hide her curves. Her hair was pinned up, and he had already started fantasising about loosening it and running his hands through it. He wished he’d paid attention when Asshole had said her name. Or had he said her name? Logan had no idea.

He heard her starting to speak, a melodic voice... he had to know her name! Logan tutted and picked up the meeting agenda, riffling back and forth through the pages to get to the correct one, but wasn’t even sure what page he should be on. Suddenly the folder tumbled from his hands and clattered onto the floor. The talking stopped and he became aware of everyone’s eyes on him, including hers. In fact, she was kind of glaring at him.

He gave an apologetic wave to the room in general as he retrieved the folder from the floor. She began speaking again, and he resumed his page-riffling. Finally he found the current one, and there was her name in black and white. A melodic name to match her voice, he thought.

He started paying attention to what she was actually saying.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d just started your part of the presentation when some asshole dropped his agenda folder, the sharp noise bringing you to a screeching halt. When you saw a hand waving around in the air, your eye followed the arm down to its owner and noted that he was in fact a very good-looking asshole. But he was still an asshole.

You cleared your throat, trying to collect your thoughts and then launched back into your presentation. The asshole was now staring at you relentlessly; every single time your eyes swept the room, his dark eyes were on you. Like... always on you. Not like the others, who were at least glancing down at the handouts occasionally.

The section you were presenting drew to a close, and you now took an empty seat at the table. It was diagonally opposite the handsome asshole. Who was still staring at you.

Now that you were much closer, you could see that his eyes were a dark chocolate brown, with a wicked gleam in them. They matched his shining dark hair, which was immaculately swept back from his forehead. You boldly met his stare for a while, before breaking eye contact to listen to your colleague Craig deliver the final part.

At the end of the presentation there were a few questions which were duly answered, and then everyone was gathering up their paperwork and milling around prior to leaving the conference room. As you tucked your folders away in your document bag, in your peripheral vision you became aware of a pair of long legs making their way to you. You knew who it was bound to be so you didn’t bother looking up. A throat cleared next to you but you continued packing away your items, and then you heard your first name being spoken in a low, husky voice. This time you did look up - it would be rude not to - and yup, it was Handsome Asshole. A hand was proffered to you and by reflex you took it, your hand being crushed in a strong grip. “Logan Delos,” said that suave voice, “...it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” you scoffed, “...how original!” while thinking, oh... so this is the infamous Logan Delos, whose name you’d heard all the time in connection with the projects but never actually met before. He had a reputation of being a bit of a diva. You heard him give a deep chuckle. “Yeah, that’s me - an original. Unique, in fact I’d say.” “Well, you’re super confident, that’s for sure!” You picked up your document bag and headed for the door, saying “Nice to meet you, Mr Delos,” as you started to leave. His tall frame scooted round in front of you before you could reach it, “Oh, not so fast.... I can’t let you leave before you agree to have dinner with me.” You tried to sidestep him but he blocked your way, and then a little ‘step to the right, step to the left’ dance ensued. Finally, exasperated, you stood still and put your hands on your hips. “Mister Delos! Will you please let me past!” He copied your stance, “Not until you say you’ll have dinner with me. Or lunch. Or.... breakfast, if you prefer?!” wiggling his eyebrows at you. You huffed, “I don’t date business partners!” He still stood in front of you, seemingly immovable, “We’re not business partners - technically speaking. Boring Asshole is my business partner, not you.” Your mouth dropped open but before you could stop it, laughter bubbled out.

You hastily silenced it, saying, “I admit, Craig may not be the most inspiring public speaker, but he really knows his stuff,” trying to cover your somewhat indiscreet reaction and save your colleague’s honour at the same time. “But that’s beside the point, Mr Delos, because we are business partners despite what you’re trying to say.” Logan had moved slightly aside while you were speaking and you took this opportunity to brush past him, calling out, “Goodbye, Mr Delos,” with the emphasis on the goodbye as you went.

If you’d bothered to look back, you would’ve seen Logan Delos watching you go, a very determined expression on his face.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Juliet looked up from her laptop as Logan breezed into her lounge, tossing his car keys onto the coffee table and throwing himself onto the sofa, long legs spreading out in front of him as he did so.

“Good meeting?” she asked, seeing that his head had gone back onto the cushions and he was staring up at the ceiling. He hummed, “Good and bad. The presentation was the single most boring thing I’ve ever heard in my life, but on the other hand one of their staffers.... wow! It was like an angel came down from heaven and found her way into that conference room.” She sighed, “Logan... by all that’s holy... do not try to screw one of our business partners for god’s sake! Dad will go ballistic if you mess up our working relationship with them.” Logan looked offended, “Who says I’d mess it up?” Jules gave a big sigh and shrugged, “Me, for one. Dear brother, I love you with all my heart but you’re fucking awful at relationships. You’d just fuck her and drop her like a hot potato. Who is it that caught your roving eye this time anyway?” Logan said her name in a dreamy tone and Jules rolled her eyes heavenwards, “Oh, no, no, no!... no way, Logan. I know her, she’s a lovely person and also does a fantastic job - she’s one of their top software engineers, specialising in middleware.”

Logan smirked, “She can engineer my middleware anytime she likes.” “Oh, shut up and get your mind out of your pants, Logan. Stay away, okay?!!” He huffed, “Hey! You can’t tell me who to pursue or otherwise, Jules!” “But that’s it, right there - you’ll chase her, catch her, bang her and drop her! I really like her as well as respecting her work, so you better just be damn careful!”

Logan sighed. He loved his sister but god, she was a king-size pain in the ass sometimes.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

A week or so later, and you’d almost forgotten about that handsome asshole at the presentation. You couldn’t deny that he’d popped in and out of your thoughts since, but you’d googled him the day after you’d met him and had also made some discreet enquiries amongst those colleagues who’d worked with him before on projects. What you’d discovered had not endeared him to you.

He was a world-class player, that was obvious - and not fussy about which gender he played around with either. Not that that put you off, it was just the sheer volume of men and women he was pictured out on the town with. And alcohol and substance abuse had been there in the mix too, with some stays in rehab mentioned although the last one had been over a year ago. So no... you’d decided you wouldn’t be entertaining any further thoughts of the undeniably attractive Mr Delos.

You turned your thoughts back to the current middleware solution you were constructing, in fact it was for Delos Corporation, involving various scenarios for their Westworld hosts. You were immersed in code and structure when your phone rang, and you saw your boss’s extension number on the caller ID. Hmmm... what could she want? She usually gave you free reign when you working on a project, catching up with you every couple of days at team meetings. Answering it, you heard her assertive voice asking you to pop along to her office and so you set off on the short walk there. You knocked on her door and heard her say ‘come in’, so in you sailed and then came to an abrupt halt. Logan Delos was sitting opposite your boss; he was half-turned towards you with a somewhat triumphant smirk on his face. Your boss indicated the chair next to Logan and you quickly sat down, wondering what this was about and why Logan looked so smug.

Your boss launched into a mini-summary of what you were currently working on, and all you could do was nod. Eventually she finished up with, “So all your current projects are for Delos.” It was a statement not a question, so you just nodded. “Mr Delos here...” she levelled a hand towards Logan, “....has come up with a suggestion, and I happen to think it’s a good one.” She smiled at Logan, before looking back at you and continuing, “He thought it would be beneficial to have the person working on most of his projects - that’s you, just to clarify - to be based at Delos Destinations for the next three months, to facilitate progress.” You knew you were looking completely dumbfounded as she hurried on, “Obviously I’d like your input on this, but I’m sure you can see that it’d be very helpful for you to be on-site with our partners while you’re working through the projects?” Meanwhile you were desperately trying to come up with reasons to remain in your own office, but truthfully you couldn’t. It would be helpful to have instant access to their engineers when you needed an answer on something, you couldn’t deny that. Reluctantly you nodded, “Yes...I can appreciate that. But couldn’t we just have me spend maybe one or two days a week over there rather than be actually based in their offices?”

Logan spoke for the first time, his expression business-like now, “That wouldn’t really fulfill the brief though, would it? Because we’d be back to having a slight delay in receiving and giving responses for the time you weren’t at our offices. And I’d ... we’d... make you very welcome. There’s an office waiting for you... right next to mine.” He couldn’t stop that smirk reappearing as he finished speaking. You forced a smile, “Well, I can’t really refuse an offer like that, can I Mr Delos?” You looked back to your boss, “I guess that’s agreed then. When does this take effect?” Your boss beamed at you, “Excellent! I don’t see any reason for it not to commence immediately, do you? How about as of tomorrow?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan walked onto his office the next morning, whistling a happy little tune. He’d had a small glass of wine the night before at Juliet’s place when he’d dropped in on his way home, knowing he had to break the news to her that evening about the cunning plan he’d come up with. He was happy for two reasons; firstly, visiting Jules and his niece Emily and not having to see William’s stupid damn face any longer would never get old, and secondly, his little scheme to get closer to that gorgeous woman was coming together. As Jules worked partly from home and partly at the office, he had to let her know that a new face would be around for at least the next three months. It would give him a much better chance to persuade her to go out with him - she wouldn’t really be able to escape him given that she’d be right next door to him every day. Predictably, Juliet had issued a stern warning about what would happen to certain parts of his anatomy should he overstep, but had reluctantly accepted that it was a fait accompli. (Privately, she was looking forward to working more closely with her and also warning her about the usual antics of her beloved brother, that’s if she wasn’t already well aware of them).

He’d been racking his brains for ideas on how best to pursue her ever since she’d turned him down flat at that conference. Logan wasn’t used to being turned down. He’d had a brainwave a couple of days later and had checked into who was handling the Delos projects at her company - after all, surely she wouldn’t be at the conference in the first place if she wasn’t involved somehow? He’d been overjoyed to find out that she was handling just about all of the current open projects (so why on earth had they allowed Boring Asshole to give the majority of the presentation?! he’d thought incredulously) and had then begun to put together a plan to somehow get her into his close orbit. He was really quite proud of what he’d come up with.

His secretary knocked on his doorframe and announced that his visitor had arrived. A big smile appeared on Logan’s face.

Here I go! he thought, the thrill of the chase coursing through his veins.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The secretary smiled at you over her shoulder as she leaned against Logan’s office doorframe, “Please, go right in,” before stepping aside so you could enter.

The man himself was lounging back in his fancy office chair, which to you looked more like the type of padded seat you’d get on a private jet, waving you into the office before getting up and striding over to you. He held out his hand which you took but instead of shaking it as you expected, he pulled you towards him and kissed your cheek very softly. A waft of delicious and no doubt expensive cologne reached your nostrils before he stepped back, “Welcome on board!” he said, “...I’m so glad you’re joining us here at Delos Destinations.” You smiled, “Thank you, Mr Delos.” “Logan!” he said immediately, waving his hand and saying your first name. “Logan,” you said dutifully, “yes, thank you for the welcome ....of course I do still work for my own company.” He smiled at you, still holding onto your hand and beginning to lead you to the door, “Well, for now you do. I’ve a mind to steal you away for myself, you know. Or, sorry... for Delos Destinations, I should of course say.”

OK... seems like he’s still interested, even if that wouldn’t last longer than a heartbeat once you’d gone out (and especially if you slept) with him. You knew this secondment was going to be trouble, you thought. Three whole months of trying to resist Mr Player of the Decade. But you were convinced that you could do it.

As he lead you from his office to what was going to be yours, you were suddenly very aware of his tall figure beside you, your hand in his (he still hadn’t let go of it) and a hint of that beautiful cologne of his again. He looked across at you, dark eyes gazing into yours and gave you a mischievous grin. Annoyingly, your stomach did a little flip.

Yeah, really convinced.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

(Not my GIF - credit to owner)

#logan delos x reader #logan delos #ben barnes #westworld #logan delos fanfic #logan delos imagine #logan delos fan fiction

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ace-in-a-shopping-cart · 3 years

Text

The Evening Emerald

Word Count: 11,662

Content warnings: mentions of child abuse, abuse (both physical and mental), death threats, talks of death, alcohol mention,

Virgil reached his arm out to hook his middle finger around a brush and dragged it over, not wanting to drop any of the sections of hair he’d been holding. His step-sister snapped at him when he pulled slightly to grab the brush properly. He murmured an apology as he brushed a section out before carefully braiding it into another section. In another half hour, the elaborate hairstyle was finished.

In yet another half hour, his step-family was off to yet another party they hadn’t bothered trying to bring him to. He knew not many of those they kept company with even knew he existed. Sighing, he cleaned up the workstation and started on washing the dishes. It gave him something to do while his thoughts churned.

He wanted to get away from this household. His father had owned this house and land before he’d passed and, as his child, Virgil had inherited it. His step-father, married to his father shortly before the dear man’s demise, ran the house with an iron fist instead. Virgil was under his thumb and, having been beaten any time he tried to take command or even have the slightest bit of autonomy, he knew he wouldn’t be able to take it by force.

He moved on to scrubbing the counters and sweeping the floors as he thought. The only way he could get the land back is if he saved enough money to buy it or if he married someone rich. He couldn’t see either situation working as his step-father had hidden him away from society for so long that it had forgotten of his existence and he was never able to earn anything. Even so, he’d filched the odd coin or so from the maids or passing milk man enough that he had a sizable coin purse squirreled away.

Just as he was finishing his chores for the night, a knock sounded at the front door. Virgil waved a maid away, telling her to go on to bed, and answered it himself. The pouring rain met him, as did an elderly woman. “Please, young man, could you spare a crust of bread? Perhaps a small cup of water? I don’t want to be too much of a bother.” She shivered in the night air and her soaked clothing.

Virgil smiled, gently guiding her inside. “It’s cold out there, madam. Cold and wet. The master of the house won’t be home for another hour or so. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you drying off by the kitchen fire and having some of the leftover soup. It was going to be thrown out in the morning for the dogs anyway. Seems it could do you more good than it can the dogs.”

“You’re too kind.” She said, gratefully taking his aide.

He only released her once they’d arrived in the kitchen. Settling her in a chair, he stoked the flames and went to grab the soup. He put it on the hearth to warm up again, sitting to talk with her in the meantime. She ate the soup and smiled kindly at Virgil, thanking him for his hospitality. Just as she was about to leave, Virgil heard the carriage pull up to the door.

Quickly, he ushered the elderly woman to the back door and gave her hurriedly whispered directions back to the main road. Then, he had to almost run through the house to get to the front hall just as his step-family walked inside. They didn’t seem suspect at all and wished to go straight to bed. Virgil checked the back door once they were upstairs and, finding the old woman had left, redid all the kitchen chores.

It was close to dawn by the time he finished, prompting him to simply lay down by the dying fire for warmth and a quick cat nap. When the sun rose, he would have to get up and start his morning chores but for now he slept.

~~~~~~

A maid’s foot ramming into his side woke him. She gave him a whispered apology and an explanation that he was late in his duties and she had been scolded into doing it. Virgil took over, rushing to get everything ready before his step-family got too angry. He carefully balanced all three trays on his arms, one held in the crook of his elbow and the other two in his hands.

He gently set one down on a hall table to free his hand so he could open his step-brother’s door. The man groaned and rolled away from the light. Virgil set the tray from the crook of his arm on his bedside table before moving to throw the curtains open, still balancing a tray. His step-brother groaned again but sat up and threw a pillow at him.

Virgil expertly dodged it and moved to the door, closing it and picking up the tray from the hallway. He moved on to his step-sister’s room and did the same routine, not even getting a pillow lodged at him for his efforts.

Finally, he approached the bedroom at the end of the hall. When his father had still been alive, that door had always stayed open and Virgil had been allowed to come and go as he pleased. Laughter had always echoed from there when his mother had been alive, still there to some extent after her passing but not the same. Now that his step-father lived there, the door was always closed and laughter was rarely heard.

Virgil carefully opened the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. his step-father was already sitting up in bed when he entered, glaring daggers at him. “I don’t appreciate being kept waiting so long for my breakfast.”

Virgil dipped his head as he placed the tray over the man’s lap, moving to open the curtains. “My apologies, sir.” He knew better than to offer an explanation, preferring not to have the milk container thrown at the back of his head again.

When he stepped back from the curtains, his step-father spoke once more. “There is a list of chores I expect to have completed before you go to bed tonight on my side table.”

Virgil again bowed his head, coming close enough to retrieve the list before he departed, closing the door behind him. He didn’t look at the list until he had made it back to the kitchen. “Scrub the dining hall floors, sweep the front steps, clean out the root cellar, polish the mirrors, clean the windows, polish the silver, tidy the rooms, dust the guest rooms, who even uses the guest rooms?!” His voice rose in indignation.

The cook snickered as she pulled rolls from the oven. “I don’t know, sir, but breakfast should be done in a few minutes.”

Virgil smiled, his anger dissipating. He moved over and kissed her on her plump cheek. “Thank you kindly, Mandy, but it seems I have too many chores to stop for food. I’ll have to charm you out of a slightly larger lunch than usual.”

She swatted at him as he made his escape. “You be sure to eat lunch, young master!”

Virgil raised a hand in acknowledgment before going out to the yard. Looking over his list again, he noted some of the more laborious tasks even as he started his morning chores. The morning was slow as he worked his way through the chores and the list, especially as his step-family continued to add to it throughout the day.

When noon came around, Virgil was flagged down by Mandy and sat on a stool, forbidden from getting up until he’d finished what she’d given him. He was starting his list again at the stairs, sweeping them and the courtyard, when a messenger came in.

“Letters for the household.” She said gruffly.

Virgil nodded, holding his hand out. “I’ll take them in, thank you.”

He flipped through them, finding some from various lords or ladies around the kingdom, most likely asking for someone’s hand in marriage, but paused when he came to the royal seal. Hurriedly, he took the mail to his step-father, shuffling it to put the royal message with the red seal on top and brought them in.

Virgil’s step-father gathered his two children around him, Virgil standing in the corner where he usually was, before opening the invitation and reading it aloud. “A decree from the desk of the king: A masquerade ball will be held on three consecutive nights in honor of our Prince Patton’s engagement to our neighbor’s Prince Remus. Everyone of marriageable age from every household is invited to attend. The first ball starts at eight o’clock tonight.”

Virgil watched his step-family jump for joy, his step-sister rushing to find an outfit to wear while his step-father and step-brother shared a scheming look. Virgil felt a buzz in his own emotions as he thought he might be able to sneak out and attend at least the first one. The other two nights were a prime time for him to sneak away. His funds were low but not so low that it was impossible. He didn’t dare ask if he could attend as he didn’t want to have more chores piled on nor to be locked in his room as he knew his step-father wasn’t above doing something like that to keep him at home.

After he exited the drawing room, he paused and overheard their conversation. “We must do it tonight, it’s the only logical time to do it.” his step-father said.

“Yes,” his step-brother responded, “tonight is the perfect opportunity. And, if we don’t get the opening we need, we’ll just use the other two nights as back up.”

“By the end of the week, Prince Logan Aeron will be dead.” A sinister chuckle followed his step-father’s proclamation.

Virgil’s hand flew to his mouth, stifling a gasp. They were plotting high treason!

Instead of reentering the room, he sped up his chores while still doing them with barely a flaw. He slowed down just enough to look busy when his family left before rushing to his attic chamber. He had managed to hide one of his father’s old suits in his closet and carefully pulled it out. Red wasn’t really his color and he had no mask to go with it but it was better than nothing. Come sleet or high water, he was going to warn the prince of the assassination attempt!

He rushed down the stairs and, wearing his best shoes, he exited out the back door. Just as he was exiting the yard, the old woman from the night before rounded the corner and smiled at him. Waving her hand, she transformed from a bent old woman in rags to an old woman with a wand and flowing robes. “Hello, child.” She said.

Virgil wanted to tell her that he was hardly a child but he couldn’t find the words.

“I was touched by your consideration and generosity last night so I’ve come back to bestow a wish upon you. Please, tell me what you desire most.”

Virgil found his voice. “I want to go to the ball. Just once, I want to enjoy life.” He needed to warn the prince but that wasn’t a want. After all, the fewer people who knew about this the better.

She smiled, waving her wand. “Then so it shall be.”

Butterflies flew from the nearby garden to circle around Virgil, lifting him off the ground slightly. When they set him down, his whole attire had changed*. He’d been given a delicate purple mask that hid the upper half of his face but left space for his eyes, a deep purple dress with butterflies decorating the bottom and becoming more scarce until they stopped at the waist, purple gloves that matched the dress and had the same lace pattern as the ends as the mask, and crystal shoes that loosely resembled ballerina slippers with ribbons that wound up his calves and stopped just short of his knees. He twirled, feeling light as a feather and just as gorgeous.

“Thank you! Is there anything I must know?”

“This only lasts until midnight, it will revert back to your former clothing at that point. However, it will last all three nights if you so choose to return then, a different outfit each time.” She winked. “For variety.”

That deal was too good to pass up. Virgil agreed and was given a carriage to ride in to the castle. He arrived just as the clock struck half past eight, entering the ballroom shortly after. He was met with a wall of noise and color as people swirled on the dance floor, some standing off to the side talking, others holding plates and glasses from the refreshments table. Virgil moved forward and started mingling with the other guests, doing a good job at staying away from his step-family but keeping them in sight.

He watched the dancing for a moment, remembering his own dancing lessons and memorizing the way the dancers moved as he was a bit out of date. Still, it was a nice change to be able to be served instead of being the one to serve.

He found an unoccupied corner of the room and sequestered himself there, enjoying just watching the proceedings. He was a silent pair of eyes connected to a memory bank, trying to soak up everything he could and remember as much as possible. He watched people roam around, accidentally catching the eye of a stranger.

The man was dressed in a dark blue suit that accentuated how tall he was. His hair was styled carefully back with a few strands falling onto his forehead. His mask was a dark green that set off his suit perfectly. He turned and, waving off the people flocking around him, came toward Virgil. Once he was there, he bowed at the neck and held a hand out, making eye contact. “May I have this dance?”

Virgil smiled, taking the offered hand and allowing himself to be led onto the dance floor. “Of course.”

The masked stranger bowed as the dance began. “What shall I call you?”

Virgil shook his head, enjoying the feeling of being held close to someone as they swept around the room. “I don’t wish to use my name tonight.”

A small smile graced the man’s features. “That sentiment, I echo.” He hummed as his eyes scanned over the heads in the crowd, finally coming to rest on Virgil again. “Your dress reminds me of a kaleidoscope of butterflies so I shall call you The Purple Butterfly, or just Butterfly if you prefer.”

Virgil smiled. “Well, then, what shall I call you?”

The man thought for a moment. “Emerald. Just Emerald.”

“And if I prefer something fancier?”

He smiled conspiratorially. “Then you shall have to wait until later tonight to hear it.”

The dance started in earnest at that point, leaving them little time to talk. They glided across the room, moving as if they’d been dancing together their whole lives. When it finished, they stood there for a second with each other. The next song started and they didn’t have to talk to know they were going to dance it together. Two more songs passed this way before Virgil stopped them.

He shook his head when Emerald gave him the same eyebrow tilt and angle of his head. “If I don’t sit down now, I fear my legs will collapse.” He was used to moving a lot throughout his day, rarely getting the time to sit down, but these shoes were as new to him as the dancing was and he’d already been on his feet more than usual today.

Emerald nodded and led him over to a secluded bench. “Would you like something to eat or drink?”

Virgil smiled. “If you wouldn’t mind. I don’t want to be a bother.”

He shook his head with a laugh. “It’s no bother at all, Butterfly.” With that, he disappeared into the crowd.

Virgil felt a trill in his heart when the man said that. He caught a glimpse of the only pair of people not wearing masks to the event, the engaged couple that the party was for, and was jolted back to his task at hand. He was about to stand and make his way to them when Emerald came back with the refreshments.

"Here you are, Butterfly," he said as he handed him a plate and small goblet. "This is just juice so don't worry about any alcohol."

Virgil smiled gratefully and took the offered items. He took a sip of the drink and found it to be a sweet and fruity liquid colored red. Looking down at his plate, he noticed simple snacks that were high in protein. "Thank you, this will be perfect."

Emerald didn't sit down right away, preferring to lean against a nearby pillar as he sipped at his own juice. They stayed there in silence, simply eating their food and watching the dancing crowd. Virgil's eyes kept drifting back over to Prince Patton and his fiancé, Prince Remus. Finally, Emerald seemed to catch on to this.

"Is there something you need to ask or tell them?”

Virgil shrugged. "Yes and no. There's something important I have to tell them but I'm not quite certain how to go about doing that. I wouldn't want to bother them during such a happy time."

Emerald turned his head, an unreadable sparkle entering his eye. "Is it something that can wait? If not, I have our prince's ear."

Virgil shrugged again, eyes scanning the crowd for what he knew Prince Logan looked like. "I can't see the object of the conversation so I'm not sure how useful that would be." He looked up at the man, smiling beneath his mask. "However, I do thank you for the offer."

He nodded and went back to people watching, almost autonomously bringing his food and drink to his mouth. Virgil did the same, savoring the rich foods and smooth drink, wondering when the next time he was going to have something like this again would be. Searching the crowd, he found his step-brother fawning over a young maiden, his step-father nearby. He really had to look to find his step-sister but she was sitting on a bench and conversing with another young lady, both sitting close enough together that the interest must have been mutual. Virgil thought about how close the masked man was standing to himself and wondered if they looked like a couple to outside observers in the same way the women across the hall did to him.

The man looked down at him from his stance by the pillar. "What are you thinking of?"

Virgil blinked, looking back up at him. "Nothing of much importance." He'd always been told he had nothing to say so why bother speaking his mind.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Come now, there must be at least one thing of importance within that brain of yours."

Virgil wasn't as sure about that as the stranger seemed to be. Still, he gestured to the two women across the room. "I was just thinking of how sweet that couple looked together." He shrugged, eyes darting back down to the now empty plate and cup in his hands.

Emerald nodded, reaching down to gather the dishware. "That they do. Here, I'll go take care of this. Would you like to dance another set after that?" He looked into Virgil's eyes, waiting for his reply.

Virgil smiled, remembering that he wasn't simply a servant tonight and could do as he liked. "Yes, I think that would be splendid."

The man nodded and left to put the dishware down on a nearby table. He soon returned and they were off, sweeping across the dancefloor for another four dances. Virgil smiled and laughed as they twirled and spun, getting caught up in the lovely feeling of one person's attention resting solely on him for so long.

Still, he came back down to earth when the last dance ended. He remembered what he was there to do: find the prince and warn him of the plot on his life. He scanned the crowd for his step-father and step-brother and found them where he'd last seen them. He tried to find the engaged princes but neither were in sight, nor was Prince Logan anywhere to be found.

Virgil's chin was gently grasped and turned and he flinched away, fearing punishment. He met his dance partner's eyes and saw an apology in them. The man leaned forward to be heard above the music. "I'm sorry, I made a mistake grabbing you like that." He didn't speak for a moment, just looked into Virgil's eyes. "Butterfly, would you like to get away from here?"

Virgil was suddenly aware of just how loud everything was, how bright all the lights were and how heavy he felt on his feet. He nodded and allowed Emerald to take his arm, quickly guiding him to a side door. The man waved at someone else but Virgil was so disoriented, he had no idea who it was nor was he inclined to find out. He found himself pulled through the door and into another, darker, room. He was directed to a bench. Light flickered at a farther end of the room but all the candles were snuffed out where they had entered, making it easier for his eyes to adjust.

Emerald knelt beside him, a hand nearby. Virgil took a deep breath and held it, doing the soothing technique the cook taught him. Soon, after much arm rubbing and deliberate breathing, he’d calmed down enough to look at the man who was staring at him in a way that was so heartbreakingly concerned Virgil had to look away.

“I’m sorry.” Virgil’s voice was quiet but it was loud enough in the silent room.

“No.” Emerald’s voice was soft. “No, it’s I who should be sorry. I touched you without your consent and for that I beg your forgiveness. If you wish to leave the ball now I will understand completely and, while I myself am not free to leave, I will find someone who can take you home.” He stood and moved as if to leave but Virgil grasped the hem of his doublet.

“Please, don’t leave me.” He didn’t want to spiral into the usual thoughts he did when his step-family mistreated him, he didn’t want to mar this perfect night with the thought of yet more violence.

“Of course.” Emerald stood near him as Virgil gathered the soft material of his skirts and stood. The masked stranger looked at Virgil for a moment longer. “Is it alright if I light the candles?”

Virgil nodded and, as the room was slowly filled with light, looked around. They were in a library, larger than the one back at the mansion. He spun in a slow circle, his dress fanning out around him, as he tried to take in just how many books were around him.

Behind him, Emerald chuckled. “Feel free to look around, pull a book off the shelf if you want. I’m not sure you can take it out of this room but every guest is free to spend as much time as they want in here to read as many books as they can.”

Virgil looked on in awe before slowly walking to the nearest shelf. He didn’t even dare to run his fingers across the spines, his gloves slightly dirty from the food. Still, he wandered the rows and looked at all the different titles that were there. Many looked interesting enough for him to curl up on that bench and read until the sun came up and the staff kicked him out. He knew he didn’t have that kind of time and whirled around, bumping into Emerald.

Emerald laughed, hands holding Virgil’s elbows to steady him. “Where are you going in such a hurry, Butterfly?”

“I must speak to Prince Logan, it’s an urgent matter.”

Emerald nodded, serious suddenly. “What if I told you I could get you an audience with him?”

Virgil clasped his hands anxiously at his waist. “Really? You’re able to do that?”

Emerald nodded. “Quite easily. I’m his closest confidant, he tells me everything.”

“What must I do to get an audience with him?”

“It’s a very simple thing. You must play a game of chess with me.” He held up a hand. “You’re not required to win, but you must play the game to completion.”

Virgil nodded, having played chess with his father often before his death and still managed the odd game with the random footman. “That’s doable.”

Emerald led the way deeper between the aisles and up a flight of stairs to a chess set. He let Virgil sit first, the purple clad servant choosing the black set. Emerald laughed and sat in front of the white.

About midway through their game, Virgil asked the question that had been brought up at the beginning of the night. “So, what shall I call you if I deem it a time to be more fanciful?”

Emerald hummed as he finished his move. “You’ll have to wait until after your meeting with the prince to know that.”

Virgil had no idea how long their game lasted, only that he’d gotten so lost in it he almost missed the bell that signaled it was half an hour until midnight. He jolted, looking at the wall that the bell came from. “Is that really the time?! I must be on my way!” The spell wore off at midnight and his family was coming home at one, he still needed time to get home and get his chores done.

“Yes, that’s the time. Is there something wrong?” Emerald had stayed in his seat but looked slightly worried.

“I must go home now. Is there any way to meet with the prince tomorrow?” If he wasn’t already dead. Virgil felt like such a fool for taking his eyes off his step-family, even just for a moment was too long.

“His schedule is, unfortunately, quite packed during the day tomorrow. However, we can resume our chess game at tomorrow’s ball and you can meet him after that.”

Virgil nodded and made his way out, back into the stunningly loud ballroom. He went around the outside edge and rode his carriage all the way back home. Everything reverted back to its former state just as he was walking up the drive.

Mandy smiled at him upon his reentrance to the kitchen, having briefly run to his room to change. “How was it, sweetie?”

Virgil smiled back as he grabbed a rag. “Oh, Mandy, it was just like a dream!” Cleaning up the kitchens, he told the cook all about the dancing and the food and Emerald, leaving out the parts where he nearly ruined the whole night and where he was very useless at stopping an assassination. “And the best thing is that I get to do it all over again tomorrow!” If the prince wasn’t announced dead and the rest of the balls canceled.

She listened patiently to his rambling story, smiling all the while and loving the way his face lit up while talking about this Emerald. “It seems you really did enjoy yourself. I’m glad.”

He paused his dashing about to stand in front of the stool she’d perched herself on. He held a hand to her cheek. “Mandy, I’ve got enough energy left in me to do both my chores and yours. Go on to bed, you look exhausted.”

“Truly? It’s not going to be too much work for you?”

He smiled. “It’ll be fine. Go on now.” She patted his cheek and told him where the cookies were before giving in and making her way to bed.

He finished the kitchen and went on to clean up the sitting room, something that he really should have done before he left but he was too excited to do so. Just as he finished that, he heard the carriage come up. He'd changed into his every day wear a few minutes after getting back so there was nothing to worry about in that regard. His step-sister went straight to bed while the men went to the sitting room and called for some tea and refreshments, just as Virgil knew they would.

Virgil stood just outside the door and listened in on their conversation. “Did you even get a good look at him?!” his step-father was saying.

“No and I’m starting to wonder if Prince Logan had even attended the ball at all.” That was his step-brother.

Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. The prince was still alive and Virgil had another chance to make sure he stayed that way. He finished the rest of his chores as quickly as possible and went off to bed.

The next day, he was whistling as he worked when his step-sister came upon him. She sat on the upholstered bench as he dusted the library shelves. An unconscious smile came to his face as he thought of the library from the night before.

“You seem to be in a good mood. Care to share why?” She asked as he went about his chores.

Virgil shrugged. “I got an early start to the day, didn’t get a single thing thrown at me when delivering breakfast, and am slightly ahead in my work.” He instantly regretted telling her the last part, fearing that she would come up with other things to lengthen his day.

Instead, she didn’t even comment on it. “It’s nice that at least one of us is in a good mood.”

Virgil sighed, knowing she was operating on a script but hadn’t been given the lines for. “What makes you say that? Are you not in a good mood today?”

He caught sight of her in his periphery as she shook her head. “I met someone at the ball last night and I think we really could make a nice match.”

Virgil raised his eyebrows as the image of her and the young woman came to mind. “Oh? And who would this be? Why does this not put you in a good mood?”

“Because I’m not sure if Father will let me pursue her.”

“Her?” He coaxed her to keep talking so he didn’t have to, making it less likely for him to make a mistake and be punished.

“Yes, her. She’s not very high up, only the daughter of a baron. I’m sure Father wants to marry me off to foreign royalty if he can, at least a count or countess. He’d never approve of a baroness.”

Virgil hummed. They themselves were only on the viscount level, only a step above the barons. He wondered what level Emerald was at. He had to be high up if he had the ear of the Prince Logan, but he could also just be a childhood friend that had continued into adulthood. He tuned back in to hear his step-sister bemoaning her life and how it wasn’t fair that her father might not let her court the baroness.

He let her ramble as he worked before bowing and leaving the now cleaned library behind. He grabbed a filled water bucket and an old rag, washing the flooring in the entrance hall. Then came sweeping the stairs and dusting the bedrooms, guest rooms included. He helped with lunch and Mandy forced him to break long enough to eat before he was off to care for the animals outside.

By the time night fell and his step-family had left, he was very nearly dead on his feet. Throwing back on his best shoes and his father’s old red suit, he gained a second wind as he headed to the backyard. The old woman met him again, this time giving him a purple vest with silver accents, a black shirt and silver tie beneath it, and a pair of black suit pants. His mask for the night was a silverish white one that had purple accents and a silver butterfly wing as the right eye. His best shoes, admittedly quite ratty, were transformed into a pair that looked straight off the shelf and were as comfortable as they could be.

He was brought to the castle in the same carriage from the night before. He got to the entrance way before he spotted Emerald standing near the entrance to the ballroom, searching for someone. Emerald was wearing the same mask as the night before but his dress was an off the shoulder piece with long sleeves and a skirt that pooled around his feet. It was a dark blue color with star-like, shimmering sequins that clustered over the top and sleeves but trailed off at the waist, leaving the rest of the gown as a solid color. Emerald raised a hand as Virgil came closer, sliding through the crowd and coming to keep pace with Virgil.

“Hello, Butterfly. How are you this evening?” Emerald sounded as he did last night, slightly detached but with an air of caring.

Virgil smiled and breathed out a sigh. “How real do you want my answer to be?” He wondered how far he could push his luck tonight.

Emerald paused in his tracks, Virgil going a few steps ahead before turning back to find him standing still. “I want you to be as real as you’d like. You’re in charge here, Butterfly.”

Virgil genuinely considered that for a moment before speaking his mind. “In that case, I don’t think I could survive a night in that ballroom. There’s way too many people here tonight.” He was almost hoping Emerald would let them go straight to the chess game.

Emerald nodded, moving the few steps to stand by Virgil and holding his arm out. Virgil gratefully took it, settling his hand in the crook of the other’s elbow, and allowed himself to be led away. “I was almost hoping you’d say that,” Emerald said by way of explanation, “as I really wasn’t looking forward to dancing all night either.”

Virgil looked down at him, observing the way the light caught his mask and made his eyes sparkle. “I really do need to speak with Prince Logan before midnight.”

Emerald nodded, patting his hand. “And so you shall. We’ll take a turn about the gardens, see the stars, and then you can best me at chess and you can have that audience with the prince.” He smiled in a way that Virgil couldn’t interpret.

“Thank you. I’m grateful that you’re willing to do this for me.”

Emerald opened a door that led outside, depositing them in front of the castle gardens. “I find you an intriguing enigma, Butterfly. Would it be out of line of me to ask you to tell me more about yourself? You don’t have to disclose anything you don’t wish to.”

Virgil stepped out with him, breathing in the cool night air. “What do you want to know? How honest would you like me to be? I can spin quite the tall tale if you let me.” He used to talk to the child of one of the maids, always coming up with clever excuses and stories as to why he was injured in some way or another. He wasn’t sure if he was willing to share the truth with someone he’d met just the night before but he was also feeling slightly brave with the mask hiding his identity.

Emerald led him down a path lined with hedges and flower beds. “You can be as truthful or as fanciful as you’d like. I shall enjoy guessing which is truth, if you’ll let me.”

Virgil nodded. They walked in silence for a few more moments, the noise of the ball fading until it was almost gone completely. He sat, staring at the flowers across the path and the butterflies that flitted around them. “I’d like to talk about it, if you’re willing to listen.”

Emerald gathered his skirts and sat beside him. “I’m here whenever you’re ready.”

Virgil took a deep breath. “My childhood wasn’t the best. I had a few good, happy years. When Mother was still alive, before Father remarried. By the time I turned nine, everything had changed. Mother died when I was seven, Father remarried when I was eight and died shortly before I turned nine.” He shrugged. “Life went downhill from there.”

Emerald put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Butterfly. I can apologize I asked and we can move on to lighter topics.”

Virgil shook his head, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. “Now that I’ve started, it’s easier to just keep going.” He felt a gentle squeeze on his shoulder. “My status no longer mattered. To them, I was just another person to put down.”

“To them? You’ve only mentioned your father’s second spouse.”

Virgil quirked the side of his mouth. “Yeah, them. Step-father, his son, and his daughter. They treat me like I’m lower than the dirt they walk on. The thing that gets me is that I let them. They’ve knocked me around so many times, I just do what they want because it’s easier than trying to fight back.”

He felt a tear slip down behind his mask. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Emerald’s arm slipped around Virgil’s shoulders and he pulled him against his side, just holding him for a moment. After a minute or two, Virgil sniffed and pulled away, pulling his mask out a bit to wipe at his eyes. “Sorry, I don’t know why I decided to spill my soul to someone I only met yesterday.”

Emerald looked back at him with gentle eyes, nothing but kindness to be found. “If you didn’t talk about it you would have burst. I can understand that feeling.” He perked up, standing and holding a hand out to Virgil. “Come on, let’s talk about a happier topic. Have you ever seen the night sky properly?”

For the next hour, they laid in the center of the hedge maze, heads together and feet facing opposite directions. Emerald pointed out stars and constellations, telling stories about them. Virgil asked about some and told made up stories about others. When they got tired of talking of stars and stories, they asked each other about opinions on anything and everything under the sun, learning about favorites and dislikes.

In that moment on the grass, Virgil felt that he could love this person, this man who comforted him when speaking of his family history, who played a mean game of chess, who had a lovely sense of humor. He knew that if he had the choice as to who to spend the rest of his life with, it wouldn’t be a hard decision to pick Emerald. It didn’t matter that neither knew the other’s name nor what they looked like, all that mattered was that they were alike enough that life would be paradise compared to his current situation.

Finally, Emerald sighed. “We should go back and join the ballroom, at least for a half hour.”

Virgil nodded and sat up. “Are you required to?”

Emerald shrugged. “As a close friend of the crown, it’s expected of me. Could you help me? I’m not sure I got all the grass off.” Virgil chuckled and helped brush him off, Emerald checking that Virgil’s suit was grass-free. They walked back together, hands linking.

They got back to the ballroom, the noise hitting Virgil like a wall. He took a deep breath as they went in, instantly trying to spot either his step-family or the royal family. He and Emerald stayed off to the side as they waited for the current dance set to end.

“Is your step-family here right now?” Emerald asked, leaning close to Virgil’s ear to be heard.

Virgil kept looking through the crowd. “I know they’re here but I don’t see any of them right now. That’s slightly concerning to me if I’m continuing the honesty streak.”

Emerald nodded, tucking him just that much closer to himself. “Can I ask why that’s concerning?”

“That’s what I need to talk to the prince about.” As much as he felt that he could trust this man, he was unsure if that trust could go as far as a plot on royalty’s life.

Emerald hummed, going back to watching the dancing. Virgil spotted his step-brother in the crowd and breathed a sigh of relief. When the dance ended, Emerald tugged Virgil onto the dance floor and into his arms.

Once they were out there, they synched up. Emerald barely had to press his fingers on Virgil’s waist to guide the dance. They moved almost as one as they glided across the dance floor. Virgil lost himself in the motions, in Emerald’s eyes, in the moment, and in the feeling of being held.

A half hour later, the dance set was finished and the pair were sitting on a nearby bench, drinking from goblets and watching the crowd. “Do you know when I may speak with the prince?” Virgil asked, leaning wearily against the wall.

“After we finish our chess match.” Emerald drained the last of his drink. “I made sure it was left in the same position as when we played last night. Care to finish it?”

Virgil nodded and instinctively reached to take his empty goblet. Emerald simply smirked, taking Virgil’s and handing both off to a passing servant. They wove around the room and slipped through the door into the library.

They sat and resumed the game, each giving a fact about himself with each piece captured. When Virgil managed to capture the second rook, Emerald laughed. “Last night I promised that there was a fancier version of the nickname ‘Emerald’ I’ve been using.”

“Yes, just as you call me the Purple Butterfly, there was something you could be called.”

“Yes, that. If it is a very serious moment, or you wish to address me by the full thing, call me the Evening Emerald.”

Virgil nodded. “Alright, Evening Emerald, let’s finish this game.”

Just as he was about to make his next move, the clock struck a quarter till midnight. “Oh my!” Virgil stood. “My apologies but it seems it will need to wait another day. I must be home soon!” He hadn’t meant to stay that late at all.

With that, he ran out of the room. The Evening Emerald was left to stare at an empty seat and hope the Purple Butterfly was safe.

Once again, Virgil arrived back at home just as the spell wore off. He changed out of the tattered suit and old shoes into his usual servant outfit before doing his nightly chores. Mandy and the rest of the staff had already gone to bed so he had the house to himself for a rare moment. Dreamily, he danced around the kitchen as he did his chores, remembering the dancing from earlier.

When all the chores were done, he prepared a snack and waited for his step-family to arrive home. They arrived soon after he sat down, giving him no time to rest as he took their coats and brought the snack to them in the drawing room. He was told to leave the room but once again stood at the door. HIs step-siblings talked of the people they met at the party for a while before his step-sister withdrew to her room. The two men, left alone in the room, talked about the royalty again.

“Did you see him at all this time?” Step-father asked.

“In my defense, I was busy with a girl.” Virgil could see him in his mind’s eye, rubbing the back of his neck with a barely apologetic look on his face.

The sound of a thud and a crash reached Virgil, making him wince. That sounded like something heavy and fragile hitting a wall and Virgil knew he was going to be the one cleaning it up tomorrow. “Do you mean to tell me that we have wasted two of the three night window to be rid of that man?” his step-father’s voice was low and slow, a sure sign that it was time for Virgil to get out of there.

He took the tray of now dirty dishware to the kitchen, cleaning them properly before putting them away, hands shaking all the while. It wasn’t the yelling that one had to worry about when it came to his step-father. It was the throwing things, the hands that lashed out quickly, the feet that would trip and kick. It was the soft voice the man only used when he was trying to get something peacefully or when he was livid.

That soft voice was what Virgil feared the most and the reason he wanted to leave so badly.

When the last dish was placed, Virgil made the long trek up to his bedroom in the attic. He pulled up the loose floorboard he kept his valuables under, checking to make sure that his coin purse was still there. It was, ready to go the day after tomorrow when he was finally going to leave this place behind forever. He put the board back before falling into bed, going to sleep soon after.

He woke the next morning to a footman knocking at his door. “Virgil.” A hushed voice reached him.

Virgil sat up, rubbing his eyes even as he pulled his work boots on. “Yeah? Come in.”

He poked his head around. “The master is up early.”

Virgil cursed under his breath, hurrying to lace the boots. “How deep in trouble am I today?”

“He threw a vase last night and wants it cleaned up two hours ago.”

Virgil rushed to the door, walking quickly with the footman on his heels. “Of course he does. And of course he wants me to do it. Because of course we don’t have a legion of maids to do exactly that.” Virgil grumbled as they descended. The footman didn’t respond but looked like he was nodding along.

They parted ways at the base of the stairs, Virgil giving him thanks and moving to the drawing room. his step-father was already there, sitting in an armchair and reading the morning paper. Virgil gave him a half bow before moving to pick up the pieces of ceramic.

The rug beneath the spot on the wall was damaged beyond repair and Virgil made a mental note to add a new rug to the shopping list. The wall was more or less undamaged, giving it a good wipe down would do the trick. Virgil stood and left the room, soon returning with what he needed to set the room right.

He hummed as he worked, thoughts drifting to the night before. The job was finished before he knew it and he stood to leave. Just as he reached the door, his step-father spoke. “There’s a new list of chores in the kitchen for you. I expect them to be completed before I return tonight.”

Virgil turned his head to look at the man who hadn’t even bothered to look up from his newspaper. “Yes, sir.”

The list was almost twice as long as it had been the first day. Virgil sighed, placing the things down where they belonged. Mandy blocked his way out the door. “I’m not letting you get a step farther until you at least eat something. I’ve seen that list and it’s more than should be asked of any one person.”

Virgil sighed but gave in, sitting down to eat. While he was eating, the scullery maid came in and set the feed bag down. “I’ve fed the animals and done what I can for them. I know it’s not much but it’s all I can give you.” He knew she’d grown up on a farm so the animals and their stalls were in good hands. He nodded his thanks as he shoved the rest of his breakfast into his mouth.

Snatching up the three trays, he went through the motions of serving his step-family before moving on to his other chores. He went up to the guest rooms, only to be told that all three of the maids had taken it upon themselves to clean them for him. He thanked them and went back down to sweep the front stairs and mop the downstairs. He was once again pulled into the kitchen for lunch but helped them to deep clean it afterwards.

The day dragged on slowly. Virgil counted the seconds until his step-family left for the ball. Finally, they did. He was up in an attic storage space trying to find decorations for something or other when the same footman came in. “Mandy wanted me to tell you that they’ve just left.”

Virgil glanced up and nodded. “Thank you.” He left his task where it was and went to get dressed. He pulled that floorboard back up and lifted out a small bag that contained his most prized worldly possessions. He opened it carefully and drew out a thin necklace chain with a small bat charm hanging from it, his mother’s necklace. He smiled, putting it on beneath his father’s old suit and best shoes.

He gave Mandy a kiss on the cheek before slipping out the back door. The old woman met him in the backyard again and provided the carriage and outfit. The shoes were the same as the first night but this time his dress was as black as midnight, with small stars dotting it and clustering in a swirl that ran diagonally across the skirt. It resembled a night sky with a nebula shining through and Virgil couldn’t have loved it more as it matched perfectly with the small bat charm resting between his collarbones. His mask was a black and silver version of the butterfly he’d worn the previous night.

When he arrived at the ball, Emerald was nowhere to be seen. Virgil slipped inside and found the same back corner as he had that first night. It wasn’t long before Emerald found him, slipping an arm around his waist and pulling him closer to him. “Apologies for not greeting you at the door, I was speaking with my brother.”

Virgil hummed, feeling slightly less drained of energy upon seeing him for some reason. “That’s fine, I’m not the main focus of this event.”

Emerald laughed lightly. “You’re my main focus. Speaking of,” he turned his head to catch Virgil’s eye, “what would you like to do now? Dance, walk in the garden, finish our chess match, sit and talk?”

Virgil smiled. “I honestly don’t have the energy to dance nor play chess at the moment. Finding a place to sit and talk sounds lovely, though.” He wanted to enjoy his last night with this amazing man.

Emerald nodded, stepping away enough to hold Virgil’s hand and guide him along. “Alright. I know an out of the way bench where we can sit and view the dancing without having to shout to hear each other.” He started leading the way and Virgil followed, paying more attention to Emerald’s outfit than to where they were going.

He was wearing a brilliant green suit that matched his name, his plain green mask that had been worn during both previous balls, and a silver circlet that kept his hair in check. As always, there were a few strands that had fallen over his forehead but Virgil found them endearing.

He was brought out of his musings by drunk shouting. A duke was blocking their path, shouting at a servant for, from what Virgil could gather, being out of wine. Virgil drew into himself just the slightest bit, having been on the receiving end of such yelling it is the furthest thing from fun he can think of. Emerald squeezed his hand before releasing it.

“Now see here, your grace. That is no way to treat someone who is only doing their job.” His voice was firm as he reached forward and grabbed onto the man’s arm.

The duke shook him off, squinting at him. “Who are you to order me around?”

Virgil looked around for help, flagging down a patrolling pair of guards. Emerald kept talking to the duke in a stern voice that grew angrier the longer he went on. The guards came over and Virgil filled them in on what was happening. They quickly escorted the duke out of the room and, presumably, out of the castle as well.

Emerald took Virgil’s hand, keeping him slightly closer as they kept going. They didn’t speak again until they’d arrived at a bench on the balcony. Emerald seated Virgil before he himself sat down. “I beg your pardon for my anger a few moments ago. The only thing I hate in the world is people who abuse their positions of power.”

Virgil smiled, feeling something settle in his chest at that, like something had just clicked into place. “I completely understand.”

“I must say, it was very quick thinking to call the guards over as you did.” Emerald remarked, making Virgil feel heat rise in his cheeks.

“It was just what anyone else would do.” He deliberately kept his eyes on the dancefloor, not glancing at his companion.

Emerald chuckled, switching the topic to sweets and favorite desserts. Virgil was grateful for the distraction, listening to him talk for a while until he felt awake and rested enough to dance. He told Emerald this and they waited for the next opening to step onto the dance floor.

As they danced, the world seemed to melt away. Virgil forgot about his step-family, the prince and the plot on his life, even the fear and uncertainty of tomorrow. In that moment, it was just him and Emerald. They twirled around the dance floor, both feeling as if they were floating rather than dancing, sweeping around the couples dancing with them. When they got toward the end of the set, Emerald took one of Virgil’s hands and spun him, smiling as Virgil couldn’t help but laugh as he spun. When he was pulled back in, Emerald dipped him. Virgil was held in strong arms, looking up into eyes that were a brighter green than the mask that lay over them, and had never felt more secure and loved in his whole life.

Emerald laughed through a heavy breath, holding him in the dip for a few seconds longer than the rest of the dancers before pulling him up and leading him to the same bench they’d sat on during the first ball. Both were breathing hard and just sat there for a few moments, leaning on the other. They didn’t speak for a few moments, simply sitting and enjoying the rush of the dance and the buzz in their chests.

Finally, Virgil sat up and away from Emerald. “That was exhilarating!”

Emerald chuckled, leaning against the pillar beside him. “That it was.”

A few more minutes were spent watching the dancing before Virgil caught sight of his step-father and was reminded why he was there in the first place. “Should we go finish that chess match?” He asked.

Emerald nodded and stood. “That sounds like a lovely idea.” He held a hand out and helped Virgil to his feet, tucking his hand into the crook of his arm.

They wove through the crowd until they reached the library door where they slipped through and over to the chess board. It was quiet as they sat down and tried to remember what their strategies had been and where they were in the game. Once they were mentally settled, they started up their usual banter as the game progressed. Virgil was enjoying himself, time seeming to fly.

An hour after they started, Virgil finally caught Emerald’s queen and moved into a checkmate position.

“You have captured my heart as easily as you captured my queen.” The Evening Emerald said softly, gazing down at the chessboard between them.

Virgil looked up at that, startled. “What?”

Emerald laughed. “Forget it. Let’s go meet the prince.” He stood, helping Virgil to his feet as well.

Virgil’s thoughts kept going back to what Emerald had said as they exited a door opposite the one they entered. They walked down the hall, taking a few turns before Virgil asked where they were going.

“He’s usually in the observatory at this time of night, ball or no ball, so we have to go there to meet with him.”

Virgil hummed in response. He carefully kept track of the amount of turns and in which direction they went.

“So, what are you wanting to speak to the prince about?” Emerald asked as they walked.

“I overheard my family talking about something that concerns me quite a bit.” He paused for a moment, weighing his trust for this man. After thinking, he continued speaking. “My step-father and step-brother are plotting high treason: the assassination of Prince Logan.”

They stopped walking when they got to a door. The clock proclaimed it a half hour to midnight just as they arrived. Virgil startled. “Oh! I didn’t realize how late it was. I have to go. Promise me you’ll pass the warning on to the prince? Please tell him about the assassination attempt?”

Emerald reached out, not quite touching Virgil’s arm. “Please stay. Just this once? You always rush off so quickly. You finally managed to beat me, don’t you want to at least meet the prince? Isn’t that what you came here for?” There was a note of pleading in his voice that made Virgil want to give in. The one thing that kept him from staying was the thought of what his step-father would do to the servants if he wasn’t there when they got back.

Virgil looked between him and back the way they came. “I really must go. I can’t be gone when my family returns.” He ran down the hall, back the way they came.

“Wait!” Emerald called out behind him. Virgil ignored him, even as an ache began in his chest. He made his way back through the library, along the edge of the ballroom, and out into the corridor, picking up a bit of speed in the empty hallway. The thud of boots on stone sounded behind him as Emerald made it out. Another call to wait and talk to him echoed to Virgil.

He burst out the front doors, the carriage waiting right where he’d left it. Finding it harder to run down the stairs in the slippers, he slipped them off and held them for a moment. Before he could start moving again, Emerald appeared at the top of the stairs, maskless. Virgil dropped one of the shoes in shock, screwing up his face in anticipation of hearing the shoe shatter behind him but not hearing anything. Instead, he ran to the carriage and climbed inside.

Emerald made it to the shoe that was halfway down the stairs when the carriage left the gate, Virgil gazing out the back window. He hoped Emerald would be able to do something about the prince’s life, hoped everything would turn out alright. He kept watching until the castle faded from view as the carriage raced along the path back to the house.

Hooves pounded against stone behind him but Virgil couldn’t be sure if that was his carriage or someone pursuing him and he was terrified to look in case it was his step-family going home early. He arrived in one piece and jumped out just as the dress dissolved back into his red suit, leaving him with the one glass slipper, ribbons trailing from it.

Mandy met him at the back door. “How was the last night? Was it everything you dreamed it would be?”

Virgil smiled at her and took the time to twirl her around. “I’ve decided to make my escape tonight, while the others are occupied with the ball. I shall be back as soon as I have enough money to claim this land as my own.”

She laughed. “I wish you well.”

He ran up to his room and managed to change into his normal attire before a shout and bang from downstairs caught his attention. He stored the slipper with the rest of his valuables, rubbed his face on his apron to make him look dirtier than he was, and went back downstairs. The front door was standing open and his step-family was in the entry hall. Virgil walked up to them, taking coats and hanging them up. “You’re home early. Did something happen?”

His step-father scowled at him. “There was a commotion that resulted in half of the guard disappearing in pursuit of someone. I didn’t like the situation and so we left.”

Virgil bowed his head, silently cursing his foolishness. “Can I get you anything before you retire for the night?”

“No, that will be all.” His step-father swept up the stairs and to his room. His step-brother and step-sister didn’t speak to him, just piled their coats into his arms and went into the drawing room. Virgil put the coats away and went to sit in the kitchen.

“I don’t know what to do now. Do you think I have time to sneak out still?”

Mandy came over to him and ran her fingers through his hair. “Oh, sweet. Of course you still have time. Get out while you can, we’ll be fine here.”

Virgil nodded, back straightening with intention. “Okay, thank you. For everything.”

He stood and made it to the top of the main staircase when a knock sounded at the door. A footman seemed to almost appear out of the wall and looked around for someone to take orders from. He caught sight of Virgil and gestured to the door. Virgil shook his head, hissing out, “Don’t look at me for help, I don’t have any authority here.”

The footman sighed and rolled his eyes before going to open the door anyways. Virgil dove behind the banister and peeked out at the entrance hall. The door opened to an unmasked Emerald standing in front of a small troop of castle guards. “Excuse me, I’m so sorry to bother you at such an hour but I’m wondering if you could help me. I’m looking for a man who was seen holding a shoe that looks like this?” He held up the shoe Virgil had dropped on the stairs.

The footman nodded nervously, glancing up the stairs at Virgil’s general direction. Emerald followed the footman’s gaze and smiled. “Are you up there, Butterfly?”

Virgil growled low in his throat as he came out from hiding and walked down the stairs. “No loyalty at all around here.” He muttered as he came to stand near the footman, who promptly went toward the kitchen. The maids were clustered around the doorway, just watching what was happening.

Emerald smiled. “Are you my butterfly?” The maids giggled from the doorway, Mandy coming out to shoo them away. “Is there somewhere private I can talk with you and your step-family?”

Virgil didn’t respond but led him to the doorway to the drawing room, only remembering that his step-siblings were in there as he was opening the doors. His step-brother was lounging on the couch as his step-sister paced, mid rant about the maiden she’d been flirting with. Virgil forced a smile as he advanced into the room, moving to stand in front of the damaged wall. Emerald came in and took a seat in the armchair. He looked to Virgil’s step-sister. “Would you mind going to get your father?”

She curtseyed and left without a word. Virgil’s step-brother sat up, his eyes widening as he caught sight of Emerald. “Your highness, may I ask what the reason for your visit is?”

Virgil was trying very hard not to collapse to the ground from exhaustion so his mind briefly glazed over the title before coming back to it. By the time it had registered, however, his step-father had stepped into the room and was glaring daggers at Virgil already. Emerald held a hand out to Virgil who instinctively looked at his own hands as if he had something to hand him. Instead, the man simply smiled. “Butterfly, would you please sit down next to me?”

Virgil nodded and moved to stand by his armchair, not having anything to sit on nearby. Emerald took his hand, rubbing his thumb gently over the back of it. Virgil leaned against the chair just the slightest bit. Emerald turned back to Virgil’s step-family. “So, I was told you wanted me dead.”

His step-brother squeaked and looked to his father, who was as still and cold as stone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, your highness.”

Virgil could feel his day catching up to him, just how much cleaning, dancing, socializing, and running he’d done was starting to take its toll on him. He leaned a bit heavier against the chair as he listened to Emerald talk with his step-father.

“I was informed by a trusted source that you were conspiring to kill me. I don’t think I have to inform you that that’s high treason and punishable by death.”

“Father, what’s going on? I don’t want to die.” Virgil’s step-brother asked, panic invading his voice.

Emerald smirked. “Why would you have anything to fear?” There was more back and forth conversation before Emerald ordered the guards to arrest the two men. Virgil’s step-sister went with them as she wanted to see if she could court the woman she’d been speaking with at the ball.

Emerald tugged gently on Virgil’s hand, drawing his attention to him. Virgil looked down at him. “Are you really Prince Logan?”

He chuckled. “Yes, I am. Now that you know my name, am I permitted to know yours?”

“It’s Virgil. Virgil Strand.”

Emerald pulled on Virgil’s hand until he was sitting in his lap. “Thank you for saving my life, Virgil Strand.”

Despite how tired he was, Virgil’s heart did a flutter when he heard his name. He rested his head on Emerald’s Logan’s shoulder. “I promise that I’m very happy to see you and know you're safe but I’m very tired.” He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling safe in Logan’s arms.

Logan chuckled. “I understand. Do you want to stay here or would you like to come to the castle with me? You don’t have to go back to the ball or anything like that if you don’t want to.”

Virgil hummed. “I wanna stay with you. Where it feels safe.”

He felt Logan’s chin brush the top of his head before there were arms around him and lifting him. Logan walked for a minute or so before Virgil was handed off to someone else. Metal jingled and Virgil felt himself rising, settling down with his back to Logan’s chest as he straddled what felt like a horse. He stirred slightly, causing Logan to hum a soothing tune. Virgil finally gave into his exhaustion and fell asleep in his arms.

He didn’t wake up until the next morning when the sun came streaming in through the window. Virgil rolled over, feeling soft sheets on his skin and a warmth next to him. He curled into that warmth before realizing that it wasn’t normal for him to wake up well rested nor with warmth nearby. Jolting backwards, he fell off the bed before realizing that he was in a bed. He groaned and stood, finding Logan had been the one asleep beside him. With no knowledge of where he was or how he got there, he wasn’t sure what the next course of action was.

Luckily, he didn’t have to think long as Logan rolled over, his eyes opening as he smiled at Virgil. “Good morning, Butterfly.”

Virgil smiled awkwardly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Logan rolled until his head was in Virgil’s lap. “I don’t exactly remember what happened toward the end of the night.”

Logan laughed. “That’s understandable given the circumstances. We need to talk to my father this afternoon but the morning is yours to command. What shall we do first?”

Virgil shrugged. “I don’t exactly have any clothes to wear except for these.”

Logan nodded. “I can lend you some for now and buy you more later. Anything else?”

Virgil shook his head. “Nothing I can think of.” He was already feeling tired again, his body wanting to catch up on sleep.

Logan sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to mimic Virgil’s stance. One of his hands came up to cradle Virgil’s cheek. “In that case, I think we need to talk.”

“I agree.” Virgil wasn’t sure how to approach the topic he wanted to discuss.

Logan smiled. “I love you. To be honest, I couldn’t take my eyes off you when you walked into that first ball.”

Virgil smiled, his hand reaching up to grasp Logan’s wrist. “I love you too.”

Logan leaned forward slightly. “May I kiss you?”

Virgil nodded, closing the distance and meeting Logan in the middle. When they pulled apart, both had a smile on his face. Logan laughed lightly. “When I first saw you, I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I knew I had to talk to you. I’m so glad I did.” He leaned forward to rest his forehead on Virgil’s.

That afternoon, the king expressed gratitude for Virgil’s attempts to save Logan’s life and asked him what he desired as a reward. Virgil said that he and Logan wished to marry. The king raised Virgil from a viscount to an earl, gave Virgil back his father’s land, and permitted the marriage. They married a month later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Loosely based on this art.

#virgil sanders #logan sanders #analogical #prince!logan #cinderella!Virgil #patton sanders #remus sanders #side dukeality #mentions of child abuse #abuse (both physical and mental)#death threats #talk of death #alcohol mention #fluff and angst #mainly fluff with angst woven in #ace writes

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