#anyway it's amusing to me that these both come from French lit BUT I hate French lit and am not going to go searching it myself

[nimblermortal]

Hello internet, I would like to collect some get-out-of-jail-free cards from classic literature, preferably French.

I have so far:

-It is by my will and for the good of France that the bearer of this message has done what has been done (The Three Musketeers, Alexandre Dumas)

-The wind is rising, we must try to live (Paul Valéry)

[dianapana]

SH Day 9 – Never Have I Ever

@sasuhinamonth

Rated T, Modern AU, OOC

Oof , for this one ideas just wouldn't come to me, so once again I looked through older stories I never finished and found this one which I thought fit to a certain degree. I didn’t really wanna go the normal route of the game itself, so I just interpreted the prompt as a new experience. I hope you enjoy, ~Love, Dia

It wasn’t uncommon for people to randomly sit down at his table, especially if those people were girls. They’d stumble onto the seat and act like it was all an accident, like they didn’t see him and thought the table was empty, or that they tripped and ‘landed’ on the seat. Other times they’d ask if they could sit because there were no free tables anymore, granted this last excuse happened to be true once or twice, but usually, it was just a lie and the two would sit in awkward silence for a few moments staring at each other with a number of empty seats all around.

However, the person sitting across from him was a girl he saw around the diner quite often, urgency written all over her face. Sasuke raised an eyebrow at her, but the situation didn’t faze him at all, thus he continued eating, putting 2 French fries in his mouth and slowly chewing, waiting for her to state her reason and purpose.

“I need you to pretend we’re here together” Sasuke narrowed his eyes at her. “My ex just walked in and I’m not in the mood to deal with him. If I’m here with someone, in this case you, he’ll either leave me alone or he’ll at least leave sooner.” His eyes moved to a guy that was just walking to the counter still obvious to his ex-girlfriend. “Please…” her eyes were begging him to help.

Sasuke sighed and pushed his milkshake her way. “It’d be strange if we were here together and I was the only one that had ordered something” Her pale eyes lit up like Christmas trees.

“Thank you so much. I’m Hinata by the way” She gave him a genuine smile. He nodded her way.

“Sasuke. I’d shake your hand but that would look strange since we’re supposed to be here together.”

For a second, silence fell over their table but Hinata started giggling at what he just said, her laugh could have also been intertwined with nervous laughter for it was a little too loud for Sasuke’s own liking, either way, he couldn’t help but smirk her. Naruto would freak if he saw Sasuke talking to a stranger, a girl no less, and not only that, but he was actually putting in the effort to help her and maintain a conversation. He had never willingly had a conversation with a stranger before.

Sadly Hinata’ sudden laughing fit turned the attention of a white-haired guy, also known in Sasuke’s head as the girl’s ex, to them. The said guy looked their way, moment in which Sasuke noticed the myriad of feelings showing onto his expression, he seemed to go from hopeful to confused to slightly irritated and then settle for putting on a fake smile and strolling their way.

“Hinata, long time no see, how are you?” The ex-boyfriend looked at her and gave Sasuke a not-so-subtle glare. He took in their table before raising an eyebrow and immediately asking another question, essentially cutting Hinata off before she could answer his first question. “Matcha milkshake? I thought you hated those”

“Oh, I used to yea, but I think they changed the receipt here. I tasted one sip from when Sasuke ordered one last time and it was pretty good, so today I wanted to see for myself” She said smoothly and took a big sip of her, well…his milkshake. “And I’ve been pretty good. How about yourself?” She smiled way too sweetly at him.

“Uh…can’t complain” He took another second to examine them again. “Well, I was actually thinking maybe we can get together and have dinner sometime next week?”

“Dude, you don’t ask out a girl when she’s already out with another guy, that’s just fucking messed up” Sasuke said, without actually meaning to his voice got deeper and he glared at the ‘ex-boyfriend’. He didn’t care that he and Hinata weren’t there together for real, it’s a universal rule you don’t ask out a girl if she’s there with a date, that’s just a douchey move.

Hinata was grinning at him from behind her hand, her eyes glittering with amusement. Sasuke had to admit something to himself, the strange girl was pretty, but she was even more beautiful while she smiled.

“Chill dude. I didn’t think this was a date” he said raising his hands as if trying to say he meant no harm. “I mean who the fuck brings a date at this shitty diner” He whispered under his breath, but both Hinata and Sasuke heard him and their moods turned pretty dark. Sasuke’s instinct was the punch the guy’s lights out, another new feeling he hadn’t experienced, at least not because of a girl. He is usually in control of his emotions and rarely loses his cool.

“Sasuke wanted to go have a sweet picnic in the park near my house, which was so thoughtful and sweet, but sadly the weather didn’t agree with him because it started raining. That’s when I remembered how I wanted to taste the milkshake, so I proposed we came here to wait for the rain to stop.” Sasuke had to admit, her lying skills were top-notch, her story had a natural flow to it, she composed a strong and believable narrative with pretty much no holes, her delivery too added to its credibility, fot she spoke with such ease. Hinata reached for his hand that was on the table and squeezed it while spreading her web of lies. Sasuke noticed the ex-boyf rolling his eyes, and a part of him felt utter satisfaction from the jerk’s annoyance.

“Whatever. I gotta bounce anyway. See you around” He turned and started walking out the diner without waiting for a reply. Sasuke snorted when he noticed that the ex didn’t even purchase anything. He was lost in his own world of trash-talking the guy but was got distracted by the petite girl in front of him that whispered not so quietly “I fucking hope not.”

“Well, that was fun.” He smirked at her. “Let me guess, bad break-up?” Hinata sighed and ran both hands over her face.

“The worst. It was a set up and we went on a few dates which were fine I guess, but I just didn’t really want a relationship at the time, or at least not with him. Either way, the break-up itself took like 3 hours cuz he just wouldn’t accept it.” She took another sip of his milkshake and gaged. “Oh god, I forgot how awful this tasted.” She said more to herself, it didn’t take her a full second to turn beet-red.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry this is yours. I d-didn’t mean to drink from it, it just happened. Let me buy you a new one” She got onto her feet but Sasuke grabbed her wrist and forced her to sit back down.

“Don’t worry about it. You barely drank any”

Had he been in his right mind he’d tell the girl to buy him extra fries too for the trouble and then he’d tell her to scramble. But for some reason or another, he didn’t want her to leave just yet. He pulled the glass back to him and drank from it just to prove to her everything was fine.

“I don’t understand how you can drink that. It’s not even sweet” Her nose wrinkled in disgust, Sasuke didn’t throw the world ‘cute’ around easily but she looked adorable.

“I hate sweets. So, this is perfect” Her jaw dropped, she looked like he had just said he hated puppies and his mother. Hinata blinked a few times, closed her mouth and opened it to say something, closed it back again. She looked genuinely confused, like someone that hated sweets wasn’t meant to exist.

“I-I don’t understand. How can you hate sweets? T-They make the world a better place. Don’t tell me that after a shitty day you don’t go home to eat a gallon of ice cream with a dozen of cookies because I will not believe you”

Now it was his turn to gag just thinking about the amount of sugar in the ‘snack’ she described. His reaction repulsed her.

“Oh wow. I’m perplexed. I had no idea people like you existed”

The fact that she said it with straight face made him believe she honestly didn’t think that what he said could be true, which for some reason he found extremely funny.

“Huh, you learn something every day.” She said with a smile, it seemed she had gotten over her confusion and found the whole conversation quite as amusing as he did.

A waitress came over to take Sasuke’s now empty milkshake glass.

“Would you like anything else?”

“Could you please bring me a veggie burger and a blueberry lemonade? And some fries too” She ordered and it relieved him that she did, he hadn’t had a lunch companion besides Naruto in a while.

“I’d also like some fries and another matcha milkshake”

“I’ll be right back,” The older woman said and left right away. When he turned back to the girl before him, she was staring at him with a small smile on her lips so he raised an eyebrow at her.

“I was sure you’d tell me to leave, or tell the waiter you’d like the bill and left yourself.” She put both of her hands on the table and played with her bracelet. “I’ve seen you around the diner. You’re not the…most welcoming face here and I’ve also saw you get up and leave on multiple occasions when someone sat at your table”

Her cheeks were a shade or two darker and she didn’t look at him but rather looked at her fidgeting hands. She was embarrassed for admitting she noticed him way before this encounter, she was nervous that she had crossed a line. What she said was true, he knew he wasn’t the nicest person but he did genuinely enjoy her presence, also he’d been in a number of situations where he would have liked someone to pretend to be there with him so he’d escape an acquaintance or a fangirl. Plus, the very same day Naruto told him he should do an act of ‘kindness’ a day or his karma would turn bad. He didn’t believe in the nonsense his blonde friend talked about, but when she sat down she looked in so much distress even he didn’t have the heart to tell her to leave.

“You’re right, But, you looked frightened, I’m not heartless,” He said in a neutral voice and Hinata blushed even redder. His lips twitched upward. Where did her confidence and acting skills go?

“I-I-I didn’t mean you are heartless…just…umm, uh” she was at a loss of words.

“It’s fine. You didn’t offend me” Hinata looked up at him relived.

“I didn’t? Oh, that’s really good, because I didn’t mean anything rude by what I said” her shoulders relaxed and her blush faded, not completely she was still a bit flushed but not quite as red as before.

“Since you knew there was a chance, I’d leave why did you sit here?”

Her smile softened a little. “Have you ever seen a person and had the urge to talk to them? For them to be your friend? I don’t mean to sound creepy, but every time I saw you here, I always wanted to talk to you, I just never had the courage. I guess the situation gave me the opportunity to do so. And I’m quite glad because, I don’t know about you, but I’m having a pretty good time talking to you” her cheeks flared even redder with each confession, for some reason admitting her thoughts in front of him was embarrassing. “Oh, just so you know, I’ve never done this before. I just had a pretty bad day and didn’t want it to get worse by having to be in his company for long.”

Their talk continued for a while longer until finally, their food arrived. The older waitress placed their orders on the table.

“There you go. Enjoy your food”

“Thank you” Hinata nodded at the waitress with a smile.

“I have one more question.” Sasuke said as Hinata took a sip of her lemonade, but gestured with her hand for him to go on. “What happened? When he was here you were a very smooth talker, but when you thought you offended me you seemed to be drowning in your own words”

Her blush came back and Sasuke decided he quite liked how she looked with it. She played with the tips of her hair, rolling it onto her finger. “W-when I was little, I was extremely shy, I couldn’t even look at strangers, my parents entered me in acting classes in hopes that I’d get over it. It didn’t really go as planned. I’m a lot better now, obviously but I still get anxious easily. Even so the acting classes did help me, when I’m in a crisis I seem to calm down and I’m able to collect my thoughts” She looked a bit over his shoulder in deep thought. “It’s like a defence mechanism but it doesn’t always work. Case in point when I o-offended you, which I’m sorry about again”

“I see…also you didn’t offend me, I told you this before. You only stated your opinion, which was true by the way”

She smiled at him once more and they started eating, it wasn’t complete silence, they made small talk asked about normal things, hobbies, friends, school and all that. Once they were finished and Sasuke asked for the bill since it was getting pretty dark and the rain finally stopped, he noticed her playing with the bracelet again.

“Something wrong?”

“Huh?” she looked up at him confused.

“You were fidgeting your hands like you did before when you were nervous. Is something bothering you?”

Hinata opened her mouth. They had spent about 2 or 3 hours together and he was able to pick up some of her habits already. He did seem like the type of person that paid attention, he was quiet but observing. Without meaning to she associated him with one of those old people from the park that sit on a bench and watch everyone pass by, like they don’t belong to this world, they just witness it, they are watchers that see the smallest details.

He didn’t know what she was thinking about, but her smile was beautifully tragic, she seemed sad, or at least contemplative.

“I was just thinking how much I enjoyed our…lunch? Dinner? And was wondering how awkward it would be to…a-ask for your number m-maybe?”

He also liked when she stuttered a little. “I don’t see why not. I enjoyed myself as well”

If only Naruto saw him give his number to a girl, the blonde would never let this slide, which was also why he’d never tell his blonde best friend about the petite blue-haired girl that made his ordinary day a little bit extraordinary, she proved that sometimes doing things you’ve never done can have a good end result, in this case talking to a stranger and pretending to date led to a pleasant evening and hopefully a friend and maybe more.

[nerdypanda3126]

City of Love – Ch. 2

Here’s the second chapter of my work for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers secret admirer exchange! (Hey, @crescent-woods if I haven’t said it before, I uh... went a little overboard cause your prompt was so amazing!) 

Read on Ao3 

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Luka was lying down on his bed with his notebook splayed across his thighs as he blared white noise in his headphones and stared at his bedroom ceiling. There was a cobweb in the corner blowing softly in the breeze from their open windows and instead of focusing on writing music he found himself thinking that he’d never even seen the spider that made that web. A shiver ran through him. Blech. Spiders. Missing spiders, especially. 

He was supposed to be working on an original song for his composition class. The professor had given them the assignment over the summer, “to get an idea of where you’re at,” the assignment had read, and for weeks Luka had stared at the blank sheet music and… absolutely nothing came to him. 

Creating wasn’t really the problem; he’d always been creative. He’d always been fond of letting things come to him while his guitar was in his hands, but he’d never tried to write it down. He’d never cared if it was good or not. He’d never tried to create for a grade. He groaned and ripped his earbuds out to toss everything aside and sat up. 

And found Sass leaning into the doorway with his eyebrows raised incredulously. 

“What?” Luka snapped. 

He wasn’t even sure he could call Sass his roommate. He’d barely even seen him for the week he’d been there. Although what he could’ve been doing was beyond Luka. He didn’t know the city, he hadn’t started classes yet, there was nowhere for him to go and nothing for him to do except see his girlfriend. And as far as Luka knew, they hadn’t managed to meet up yet. 

“Rough day?” Sass smirked and walked over to sit down on his flimsy foldaway bed across from Luka. 

Luka wiped a hand over his face and cursed in French under his breath. “What do you want?” 

“Want? Why do I have to want anything? Can’t I ask you how your day is going?” 

“You’ve hardly spoken to me since I picked you up at the airport.” Luka rolled his eyes and flopped back on his bed. “So I doubt you actually care.” 

Sass hummed, in agreement or in thought Luka couldn’t tell. “You need to get out of here.” 

Luka turned his head to look at Sass and quirked an eyebrow. 

“I’m serious, staring at four blank walls, that’s your problem right there. You need to get out, get some air, meet some people.” 

“You’re worse than Juleka,” Luka muttered darkly. “You don’t even know what my problem is.” 

“I know boiling in self-loathing won’t get you anywhere. Lucky for you I have the solution. A night out with me and two amazing women.” He made a wide “voilà” motion with his arms, like he had just finished a stunning magic trick. 

Luka scowled at him, his suspicion growing. “What do you need me for? Two amazing women, just keep them for yourself.” 

“Well, one is for me, but the other…” he raised his eyebrows suggestively. When Luka kept scowling, Sass sighed in defeat. “Okay, fine. Tikki is refusing to meet me unless her host is with her. And she’s insisting I invite you, too.” 

Luka’s scowl split into a smirk. “Oh, so you need a favor, that’s what this is about.” 

“Yes, I need a favor.” When Sass was annoyed, his sibilants drew out into hisses, which amused Luka to no end. Sass rolled his eyes. “So will you come?” 

“What happened to ‘I don’t need you, I don’t need your country, I’m too cool for this shit’?” Luka said, mimicking Sass’s subtle lyrical accent. 

“You don’t have to be an ass about it. Will you come or not?” 

“I absolutely do have to be an ass about it.” Luka grinned and sat up, savoring the way Sass’s scales were getting all ruffled. He could practically see the irritation roiling off his shoulders. “What if I don’t go? What happens then?” 

“Then I tell your sister you’re being an awful host.” Sass’s dark eyes flashed as he bared his teeth in a wicked grin. “And she might decide to come along and make sure you make it up to me.”

Luka’s scowl returned. Sass had him pinned, and he knew it. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll go. But I’m picking the place. If I’m being forced out of the house, I’m at least going somewhere I’ll have fun.”

Sass shrugged and smiled down at his phone as he shot off a text, before he stood and stretched. “It’s settled, then. Let’s go.” 

“What, now?” 

“Yeah, now, what other time would we go?” Sass undid his ponytail and kept the band in his mouth as he redid it, recapturing the strands that had fallen out to frame his face. Now that Luka was looking at him, he was wearing a form-fitting olive green henley that set off his dark features well, along with dark wash jeans and black converse. Not exactly dressed to go out, but definitely dressed for an admiring female gaze. 

He looked down at himself, at the ratty blue hoodie with chewed on strings, pit-stained white band shirt, and knee-less black skinny jeans he was wearing. For the hole in the wall he had in mind, it wouldn’t be out of place, but for meeting “two amazing women,” maybe not the best option. He ran a hand over the dark stubble on his cheek and through his hair he hadn’t even run a brush through today. 

Sass rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll meet you out by your bike. 20 minutes, yeah?” He stood and offered his phone to Luka. “Wanna plug in the address?” 

Luka took the phone from him, noting the contact picture of a young woman with a black and red pixie haircut blowing a kiss. Must be Tikki. He shrugged and typed in the name of the club he frequented and the address before he spun it on his palm to hand it back to Sass. 

Sass left without another word and Luka pulled himself up to see if he could figure out what to wear. Not that it mattered; the club would be loud enough that he wouldn’t have to talk to whoever came along anyways. Which made it absolutely perfect. 

***

“He said yes!” Tikki cried as she burst into Marinette’s room and flopped down next to her on the bed, triumphantly shoving her phone into Marinette’s hands. 

“Your boyfriend? Of course he did.” Marinette was smiling as Tikki started chattering away, but her smile disappeared as she scrolled through the text chain. The text chain about meeting up tonight, but only if Marinette came along. Tikki’s insistence that it should be a group outing, that her boyfriend’s host should come along, too, so Marinette wasn’t left alone. 

She gaped at Tikki. “You set me up with someone?” 

“No, no, no,” Tikki rushed to reassure her, taking her phone back and clutching it to her chest, “not a set up! Just… someone to talk to in case I kinda disappear.” 

“Isn’t the point of me coming so that you don’t disappear?” Marinette lifted an eyebrow. 

Tikki’s phone pinged with an incoming message and Tikki’s face scrunched in concentration as she checked it. “He sent me an address and said 20 minutes. Do you know this place?” 

She showed her screen again and Marinette couldn’t help but groan. Not only at the concept of getting ready to go out in 20 minutes, but also at the club name. 

“I’ve been there before. Once. On a date.” 

A date that went horribly wrong. He hadn't said anything about being a famous model, or that the press might be following him, or that he had a fiancée that might see him dancing with her in the papers the next day and might decide to stalk Marinette for the next few months. And when the paparazzi had swarmed the tiny club, he’d gotten startled and spilled her entire bright pink cocktail down the front of her white dress. One of her favorites, too. She frowned at the memory of the fiasco. She hadn’t been back since, and she'd sworn off dating to boot. 

“We don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.” Tikki’s enthusiastic glow visibly dimmed. 

She’d told Marinette a little about the guy she’d been seeing. They’d been long-distance for so long and Paris was halfway for both of them, so they figured they’d meet up, see how it went. Of course that wasn’t the only reason she was there, Tikki had assured Marinette, she’d always wanted to go to Paris. But meeting her boyfriend was definitely part of the plan and Marinette did worry about Tikki being safe. She said she knew him, that they’d been talking forever and she knew what he looked like and he would never hurt her. But it also never hurt to have a backup plan in situations like this. 

Marinette sighed. “Of course we’re going.” She glanced over Tikki’s loose staying-home outfit for the day and smirked. “But not in that. Hang on.” 

Marinette hopped up and ran over to her closet. “I was saving this for a rainy day.” She flicked through her hangers to find it. The perfect little black dress. A deep v-neck that plunged to where the fabric nipped in at the waist, a flirty skirt that floated away and landed gently just above the knee. Tikki would kill in it with her adorable pixie frame. Marinette showed it to her and delighted in the way her eyes lit up. 

“But what about you?” Tikki asked. 

Marinette shrugged. “It’s not really about me, is it?” She grinned and tossed the dress at Tikki before turning back to select a light pink tank top, a gray leather jacket and a pair of distressed skinny jeans. She shrugged as she laid them out on the bed and Tikki frowned. 

“What if you like this guy?” 

Marinette rolled her eyes and bent down to grab a pair of strappy black heels. She raised her eyebrows at Tikki as she added them to the pile. “Et voilà.” 

This time, Tikki grinned and ran off to her room, clutching the dress to her chest. Marinette shook her head. As long as it was a one-time thing, she didn’t mind coming along for the night. Whoever this mysterious guy was, one thing was for sure. He was in the same boat she was. So she’d make nice, for Tikki’s sake, and hope for the best. If she hated him, she’d never have to see him again. If she liked him… 

Well, that was maybe assuming too much.

Translations:

Et voilà: And there it is

[primitivejunketer]

I Want To Tell You- A George Harrison FanFiction

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4

Chapter 5- Amour Mon Cher Amour

Fic Summary: George and Rosemarie have been next door neighbors their entire lives. As they grow older, feelings grow stronger. Will they fall in love or fall apart? angst/fluff/slow burn

Chapter Summary: We introduce Paul, Rosemarie goes away on a trip and the unexpected happens upon her return...

Word Count: 2380

Rating: T

Warnings: explicit language/minor affection

Note from the author: Things are happening now!!! Get fired up and buckle in y’all, we’re going for a ride. Also I know the gif below is from Stranger Things, that’s just how cute and awkward I imagine baby Rose and George to be.

Listen while you read! xx

---

October 22, 1954

George sat on the school bus staring out the window at the gloomy Speke weather. He lightly tapped his toes to the beat of Tennessee by Carl Perkins. 

“Hi, is this seat taken?” George looked over at the voice towering above him. A tall, pale boy with round rosy cheeks was addressing him. 

George shook his head silently. 

“I’m Paul,” the boy put out his hand for George to shake. 

“George.” He replied. 

“You’re new, aren’t you?” Paul asked.

“Yeh, I came from Dovedale. My brother came here so my parents made me.” 

 “Oh! What's his name? I might know ‘em.” Paul was jaunty. He had a baby face and was rather tall. He had a very warm presence but George was still new to the school and used to bullies from Dovedale, so he kept his guard up around Paul. 

“Harold Harrison,” George sighed, annoyed. 

“Oh, nah doesn’t sound familiar. But is that your last name? Harrison? That’s a good name. Mine’s McCartney.” 

Paul did most of the talking the rest of the way to his stop. George replied with unenthusiastic “mhm”s. 

The bus finally made it to Paul’s stop after what seemed like years. He shook George’s hand again before retreating from the bus. 

“See you tomorrow, lad.” Paul waved. 

George waved back, wide eyed. 

-

Rose was waiting for George on his porch when he returned home. She was leaned back on the steps, reading a book. 

“Good afternoon, Georgie! How was school?” She asked him in an annoying singsong voice. 

“School wasn’t the bad part, the ride home was.” He groaned, sitting down next to her. 

“What happened? Was someone being mean?” Rose became very concerned. 

“Not at all, this bloke sat next to me and was chatting my ear off the whole way to his stop.” 

“Awww George be nice he was trying to be friendly!” Rose swat his arm playfully. 

“Maybe I don’t want any friends,” he scoffed. 

Rose rolled her eyes and got up, “Come to my house, mum is making stew.” She put out her hand for him to help himself up. Unexpectedly, though, he didn’t let go.

The two held hands for the few block walk to Rose’s house. Before opening the door she awkwardly shook his hand away from hers and opened the door. 

-

December 17, 1954

“She is taking FOREVER!” George complained, tugging his coat tighter around himself. 

“Girls always take forever,” Paul laughed, roughing up George’s hair. 

In the past months, George and Paul had become best friends in school. They rode the bus together every day after the first day they met. They even clung to each other during school. Paul was a year older and had access to the music room at the school and introduced George to a few of his new favorite artists. 

Paul watched George, waiting for this mystery girl’s arrival outside of Trinity Catholic Girls school. 

As per usual, Rosemarie’s parents followed the Harrison’s footsteps and decided Rose should go to private school for secondary school. She fought hard against the decision but eventually lost against her mother. 

Rose HATED school. She hated her stupid black and white school shoes, and her stupid long forest green plaid skirt, and her stupid white button up shirt. 

Suddenly, Paul watched as George’s face lit up. He began waving frantically. Paul’s eyes followed the direction George was looking and he was met for the first time by Rosemarie. 

George gently wrapped his arm around her and turned to Paul. 

“Paul, this is Rose, Rose this is Paul.” George laughed sort of awkwardly. 

“Rosemarie Winthrop, charmed.” Rose smiled, putting her hand out for Paul to shake. 

“Enchanté, Paul McCartney,” Paul, flashed a wink at George, bringing Rose’s hand up to his face to gently place a kiss upon. 

“Alright! That’s enough friendliness for today!” George stood between the two of them, flashing a look at Paul that could kill. 

The three began to walk back towards George’s house for dinner. Mrs. Harrison was having a dinner, celebrating that all of her children would be under one roof for the night. Harold and Louise we’re visiting. 

“I’ve heard so much about you, Miss Rosemarie,” Paul mentioned as they walked together. George stayed in the middle so Paul and Rose had to speak over him. He walked with his head down, kicking chunks of snow as they went. 

“I wish I could say the same about you, Paul. George rarely talks about anything but guitars anymore,” Rose laughed, nudging George slightly. 

“I wonder who’s fault that is,” George returned a stifled laugh and motioned at Paul. 

“I can’t help it, my dad’s a musician!” He had a warm and hearty laugh. 

“Really?!” Rose was enthused, “what does he play?” 

Paul went on to explain his father’s jazz background. At this point, the two were getting along all too well. 

When the three arrived at George’s house, Rose went to greet Mrs. Harrison in the kitchen. Paul mindlessly followed, looking around pictures on the walls. 

George cleared his throat from the top of the stairs. 

“A word, Paul.” He spat. 

Paul smiled, already knowing what he was in trouble for. 

George pulled Paul into his room. “FLIRTING!” He whisper-shouted. 

Paul had to hold back his laugh, “I’m sorry! She liked it,” he could barely speak between laughs. 

“Of course she liked it! You were FLIRTING!” 

Paul was amused at how upset George got, he had never seen him this way before. 

“Look, I know you like her a lot. Relax, mate. She likes you too,” Paul placed his hand on George’s shoulder, reassuringly. 

“What are you two talking about?” The door opened and Rose entered, making George jump. 

“Nothing!” He answered all too quickly, making Paul laugh. 

“That’s not suspicious…” Rose said, raising an eyebrow, “anyway, your mum sent me up here to tell you supper’s ready.” 

-

January 18, 1955

Christmas came and went faster than anyone would have desired. George was heartbroken that he’d have to spend a month away from Rose. 

The week after Christmas, Rosemarie and her mother took what her mother referred to as a “girls trip” to France. Mrs. Winthrop was born in France and had lots of family there. She was particularly keen on staying with her younger sister, Dominique. 

The two sisters hadn’t seen one another since before Rosemarie was born. 

Paul had to deal with George’s complaints for an entire week since he insisted distracting himself with Paul’s presence. 

The two sat in a small cafe near Paul’s house, drinking hot chocolates. 

“You’ve got to stop moping, mate. It’s not like she’s gone forever.” Paul consoled George. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been away from her this long in my life.” George groaned and looked out the window at the snowy scene before him. 

“What is it about her that gets you this way?” Paul was genuinely intrigued. He had never really even seen George look at another girl the way he looks at Rose. 

“I dunno. I’ve known her basically since we were born and just- I don’t know. She’s so-,” he stopped and his face scrunched up. He didn’t know how to answer Paul’s question. 

“She’s just my person. She’s unlike anyone else.” That was the only way George could figure to put it into words. 

Paul nodded knowingly. He wasn’t much older than George, but wise enough to know exactly what he meant. 

-

February 2, 1955

“Bonjour! How was your trip?” George was at Rosemarie’s house not even an hour after she arrived home from the train station. 

“I had an amazing time! My aunt Domonique is spectacular! She taught me how to speak some French while I was there!” The two sat in Rose’s bedroom with the record player on. She was playing all of the new music she got in France, showing George how lovely French music was. 

She particularly liked Yves Montand and wanted to show George his record. She turned up the record player when Amour Mon Cher Amour came on and started to dance by herself. She slowly stepped to the guitar and swung around the room following the smooth lyrics. 

George was frozen. Sitting on the edge of her bed he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Something about her was different since she had returned. Of course she was wearing the popular French fashion, much more stylized than any British girl he had seen in the last month. It even appeared that she had rouge on her lips. George had never seen her wear makeup before. 

“Dance with me George” Rose smiled, putting out her hand for him to grab. 

He stood, somewhat shakily, grabbing her hand and dancing around the small room awkwardly.

“What does it mean?” He asked with a smile, showing off his pointed canine teeth. 

“Amour mon cher amour? Love, my dear, love,” Rose smiled and looked right into George’s brown eyes, causing his cheeks to redden. 

He stared at her face while they danced, he noticed everything about her. The way her chocolate colored eyes sparkled in her dimly lit room, the faint tint of red in her dark hair, perfectly tucked into curls that rested just right on her shoulders, and then did the unspeakable. 

He kissed her. 

And she did the unspeakable. 

She kissed him back. 

It only lasted a couple seconds but it felt like an eternity. 

Neither one of them knew what they were doing, there was a combination of George’s lips on Rose’s chin and teeth bumping into one another. But it didn’t matter. 

They pulled away both blushing, slightly out of breath. They couldn’t say anything, the two just sat there smiling goofily and staring into each other’s eyes. 

Then, footsteps were heard coming up the stairs, and before they could react, Mr. Winthrop was standing in the doorway. 

His initial reaction to seeing his daughter just barely an inch away from George was sweet, he knew it was bound to happen eventually and was happy for them. 

After a few seconds of everyone sitting frozen, George popped up, “Well, I best get going, told mum I was only going to be away for a few minutes.” 

“I’ll walk you out,” Rose quickly stepped behind him, walking past her father who had long since forgot what he went to go tell them in the first place. 

Rose followed George down the stairs and to the front porch where he had parked his bicycle. 

“So-“ Rose started. 

“We don’t have to talk about it.” George quickly interrupted. Rose nodded understandingly. 

“See you tomorrow?” She asked, sheepishly biting her lip. 

“Absolutely.” George hopped on his bike and leaned in once more, kissing her cheek. 

George sped down the street on his bike howling at the air.

“Whoooooohooooo!” He giggled as his bike tires skid along the frosty pavement.

-

Rose watched George until he turned a corner, out of sight. She stared dreamily at nothing at all, in a daze. 

She slowly turned back into her house, gently shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. She let out an audible sigh.

“Did someone just get her first kiss?” Mrs. Winthrop was cheekily peeking from behind the kitchen door.

“Mum!” Rose shouted, embarrassed. 

“He wasn’t being too bold, right? Kept his hands to himself?” Mr. Winthrop chimed in, peeking behind his wife. 

“Dad! It’s bad enough you interrupted!” Rose’s face was full red at this point. 

“Interrupted? It is my business who is kissing my eleven year old daughter in my house.” He retorted. 

Rose groaned, “Dad, it’s just George!” She tried to shake off the subject but her own face wouldn’t even let her. 

She couldn’t help the little smile that peeked up and the rosiness of her cheeks. 

She ran up the stairs to her bedroom and locked the door behind her. 

Before kicking off her shoes and lying down in her bed, she put the Yves Montand record on again. 

She grabbed her pillow and held it close to her chest, closing her eyes. All she could see was George.

She had every single part of him memorized. The way his shaggy brown hair laid on his head, the lines he’d get on his cheeks when he smiled big. She let out a sigh, accompanied by a little smile. 

There was a knock on the door. Rose opened it to welcome Mrs. Winthrop. 

“Hi darling, I made you a cuppa.” She held out her gorgeous silver tray with two China tea cups on it. 

Rose invited her mother to sit on her bed beside her. 

“So,” Mrs. Winthrop started, Rose already knew where this was going to go, “how was it?” 

“Mum!” Rose exclaimed, “I don’t think you’re supposed to ask me that.” 

Mrs. Winthrop laughed, “well, I’ll be the first to tell you, my first kiss was not at all ideal.” 

“How do you mean?” Rose asked, sipping her tea. 

“I was about your age, and I went to a public school, boys and girls mixed, you know.” She began, “and I wasn’t friendly with the boys, I had my sister and cousins, no desire to play with anyone else. And one day, this boy came up to me, oh what was his name?” She paused for a moment, but Rose continued to listen intently. “I think it was Jacques O’Hare, yes he was French Irish, anyway, he walked up to me, grabbed me by the arms and kissed me right on the mouth. I was DISGUSTED.” 

Rose burst into laughter. “Oh, mum I’m so sorry!” She tried to stifle her laughs but couldn’t help it. 

“Don’t worry about me, dear, my point is, how are you?” She asked her daughter. 

“Well,” Rose started, and then drifted off into thought. She had never felt this way before and didn’t know how to describe it. “I wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else.” She smiled, satisfied with this answer. 

Mrs. Winthrop hugged Rose tightly, “so is he your boyfriend now?” She began to pry, with an eyebrow raised. 

“Mum! No, he’s not my boyfriend. I don’t know what he is. I don’t want anything ruined,” Rose was solemn. She felt something unexplainable for George but didn’t want it to ruin what they already had. 

-

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Got a Light? || Dakota and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Behind the WCPD Station PARTIES: @dakotasgrant and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY:  Dakota and Kaden run into each other during a much needed nicotine fix.

Paperwork was something straight from hell. Give him a fucking hellhound to go up against any day of the week. That was easy. This? Putain. Kaden was headed out for his third smoke break in the past two hours. No, he checked his watch. One hour. Only one hour? He cursed to himself some more in French before grabbing his coat and telling Gary, “be right back.” Gary seemed both frustrated and relieved to see his co-worker go once again. Kaden started fidgeting with his lighter in his pocket before he even got outside round back of the station. It was cold, but he came out here enough he’d set up a hidden space heater and he knocked it on before leaning against the nearby wall and pulling out his lights and the zippo. Just one cigarette, maybe two and he could clear his head before going back inside. For once he figured it was a good thing he was seeing a little less of Regan, she wouldn’t have to deal with the nicotine on his breath that she definitely hated. As much as he’d cut back, there were moments that dug under his skin and had him outside once more, lighter in hand ready for some brief relief. Paperwork was one of those moments. He flipped open the lighter and flicked the toggle and… nothing. “Putain de merde,” he grumbled to himself, lips moving around the cigarette resting there. He tried again and again, only nothing was working. Just his fucking luck. Truly a sign from the universe to quit. Go inside. Do his damn work. He scuffed his boot on the ground, kicking up a chunk of dirt and rock before letting his head fall back, leaning on the wall behind him as he let out a loud sigh. It was then he heard the heartbeat, realized he wasn’t alone anymore. Shit. He perked up, stood straight and saw the woman across the way, also reaching for a smoke. “Sorry about that,” he said, apologizing for the slight display. Wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t think he was alone. Especially since she sort of looked like she wanted to be left alone. But she might be his only hope. “Uh, hate to ask this,” he said, approaching her, “but you got a light?” 

Fucking hell, why did winter always have to have such a bite to it? She didn’t smoke often—in fact, Dakota usually only picked back up whenever she was stressed… Or bored… Or needed an excuse to step away from her desk, which seemed to be more often than usual since moving to White Crest. Somewhere deep down, which was always far deeper than she cared to go, she knew she’d picked back up because Chris hated this shit, but that was neither here nor there. There was only about an hour or so before she could take lunch and maybe explore a few more places than the last four items on the menu at Al’s Diner, but hell, she’d entombed herself in that lab since 7AM and still couldn’t come up with a logical explanation for why the blood samples collected at the latest crime scene were both normal, biological blood samples and.. Well, something else. Clearly it was tampered evidence, but racking her brain for the last six hours hadn’t done shit and she was starting to get herself pissed off...Clearly time for a cigarette. Dakota had been freezing her ass off for probably the last five minutes, leaning against the cold stone of the building when she’d heard a few footsteps and some muttered French curses. As the kind of person who generally analyzed most scenes—crime or social—she’d already found him familiar before she caught a glimpse of his face. He carried himself differently when he wasn’t trying to start a lighter that was clearly dead, but she found his frustrated mannerisms amusing, even if she’d wandered out back to be alone. “Throwing a bit of a temper tantrum, are we?” she asked with a smirk, retrieving her own lighter from her coat pocket and tossing it in his direction. 

“It wasn’t a temper tantrum, alright,” Kaden grumbled back as he caught the lighter. Sure he’d gotten a little frustrated but it wasn’t a temper tantrum. Putain. He simply sighed, let it lie, and lit his cigarette. He took in a long breath, drawing the nicotine in deep, letting it sit in his lungs a moment before slowly releasing it and breathing it out. “Thanks,” he said before throwing the lighter back to her.  He stood there in silence for a beat, appreciating the nicotine break. He gave her a quick glance and he was sure he’d seen her before but that didn’t mean much. There were a lot of people in and out of this place. Still, he wondered if he was supposed to know who she was. Well, she didn’t have a uniform on so she probably wasn’t a beat cop at least. Then again, he was a cop and wasn’t wearing a uniform. He wanted to assume that if she was a detective, he’d have seen her around more, Styrder would have taught her to poke fun at him. Then again, with the death rate and job turnover in this town, maybe not. Guess there was only one real way to find out. “So, who am I sending my thank you card to? Fair warning it might have some dog and cat hair on it.” 

Ooh, he was touchy. Dakota normally tried to keep her mouth shut whenever someone seemed upset, because nine times out of ten, she liked to push their buttons to see how far she could push them. See, she didn’t like being the center of attention, but she loved riling people up just enough to see if they’d snap—and when they did, it usually left her satisfied as all hell. She let a bout of silence swell between them after he’d thanked her, and let it fester even longer when he mentioned a thank you card. Her expression didn’t change much, rather just her hand lifting to her lips, taking a long drag from her cigarette before blowing the air out. “Are you asking for my address?” she deadpanned. To be fair, Dakota thought it was funny, even though from the second she saw him she’d noticed he was tense as all hell. But… Being a sarcastic little shit was sort of her bread and butter. 

Kaden was about to inhale another round of his cigarette but he stopped to shoot her a look. “Yes. Of course. I want the whole thing, proper zip code and everything,” he shot back in an equal tone. He shook his head and finally took that drag. “I mean you could start with what department you’re in. I know you’re not Animal Control. But that’s about it.” He watched as the smoke left his lips and twisted and floated through the air, mixed with the condensation from his warm breath hitting the cold air. “And possibly a name. I heard it’s a good place to start.” He considered putting his hand out to shake but thought better of it. “Kaden,” he said with a small nod. “Uh, I guess Officer Langley. Depending on-- I mean, you know. Animal Control. In case, uh, you missed that.” It had been almost a year in his job and he still felt like such a fucking fraud saying his title or whatever, at least to other people in the department. Out in the field, he had no problem acting with authority. Those people didn’t know any better. Here? At the station? Some part of him was always going to feel like an imposter.

Kaden was right. She most definitely could start with her department, maybe a name, maybe her affiliation with WCPD. She could be polite and cordial and maybe even start to make a couple friends in this one-horse town. Hell, maybe this kid wasn’t so bad, and maybe if she let her guard down for half a second, she’d think he was decent enough to grab a burger at Al’s at lunch...But where was the fun in that? Being closed off was a part of Dakota’s personality regardless—too many people back home knew all of her business. White Crest was refreshing since nobody knew who the hell she was, so nobody knew her secrets, her business, her likes and dislikes, her habits… Jesus, Kota, go see a damned therapist. Finally taking the last drag of her cigarette and stamping out the ashes against the cool brick of the building, she looked over at him. “Wait, you’re in Animal Control?” She was just having too much fun being a dick. There was a beat of silence, mainly because she wasn’t giving him much to work with—of course, that was always her plan, because then people would leave her the hell alone, but.. He seemed a decent guy, and if they were technically coworkers, he was bound to find out anyway. “Dakota Grant. CSI. I’ve been here for.. What, five months now?” She tucked her hands into her pockets. “This town keeps me far busier than I expected, I’ll give it that.” Another beat. “Animal Control keep you busy? I hear there’s bears.” 

Kaden rolled his eyes and went back to his cigarette. At least she wasn’t calling him Paw Patrol, but he had a feeling it wasn’t far behind. “Yeah. Shocking. I know.” He wasn’t sure right that made her a detective or not if she was already picking on him. It seemed like it was part of the orientation package at this point. Then again,again, maybe he was just an easy target. Hard to say. He inhaled another hit of nicotine and let it slowly release. He half expected the conversation to end, for the quiet to hang in the air between them awkwardly as they stood in the same place, doing the same thing, while very likely working for the same institution. His head jerked to face her as she answered him, nearly coughed out of surprise. “Nice to meet you, Dakota.” Shit, did she go by Grant? Half the department used last names. No, she wasn’t an officer. Was she? Putain. He took a drag of his light and tried not to overthink this more than he really needed to. She wasn’t an authority, she was CSI. Kaden blew out a puff of smoke before adding, “CSI, nice. Guess that explains why we haven’t seen much of one another. You probably worked with my girlfriend, though. Medical examiner?” His heart sunk and his mouth pulled into a thin line as he realized his mistake. Stupid how easy it was to forget, even now. “Well, former medical examiner. For now. She’s on leave. For a few months n-- You know what, never mind.” His cigarette was dangerously low. He was tempted to pull out another but he’d need to bank on her favors again to light it. Better stretch this one out as long as possible, then. “Anyway, yeah. Not surprised you’re busy. Whole WCPD is. And the morgue. But yeah, bears are the easiest things on my list some days.”

Wow, this dude really seemed to be an open book—not just for his own shit, but apparently his girlfriend’s as well. Medical examiner, huh? Maybe this guy would end up being a nice contact to have after all. Dakota’s perked up a bit at the comment about the bears—she wasn’t terrified of ‘em, and she sure as shit wasn’t afraid to shoot one, but.. The prospect of being put in the situation to do so did stress her out. “You know what they say, your chances of being mauled to death are pretty low, but never zero.” Dakota deadpanned, tucking her hands back into her pockets. The longer she stayed out here, the more she realized maybe she hadn’t crawled out of that cave just for a cigarette and maybe some fresh air—she needed the sunlight. And, so it seemed, a little conversation wasn’t terrible after all. More silence filled the gaps in their conversation before she let out a little sigh, looking Kaden over a bit. His body language bore stress and.. Anxiety, maybe? All she knew was that he seemed downright annoyed about something. And upset about something, maybe. But she’d been wrong before. “You can talk about it. Your girlfriend issue, if you want. I’m just a stranger having a cigarette.” she offered.

Kaden had to bite back a laugh. “Well mine are definitely never zero.” Little did she know. He came close to being mauled, what? At least once a month. Maybe more. The perks of being a hunter and Animal Control. Which, speaking of, he should probably head back inside, get back to the fucking paperwork. Putain, he didn’t want to think about that. Not yet. There was still some of his cigarette worth smoking. He wasn’t sure about conversations worth having but guess he was having them anyway. “Right. I don’t have a girlfriend issue,” he said simply after a long, slow, exhale of smoke. That was underselling it. But what the fuck was he going to say? Oh yeah, my girlfriend? She quit her job to go train in the woods to learn how to suppress her emotions and is just ritualistically torturing herself and occasionally exploding animals with her voice. And now she’s afraid to touch me or be around me because she thinks she might explode me with her voice. Yeah, that’d be fine. Really great topic of conversation. “She’s just in a rough spot right now. That’s all. So you know, just don’t go looking for her in the morgue right now. That was my point.” It was one thing to dump his issues on a stranger but he wasn’t about to unload Regan’s. 

The wind wasn’t fierce, but it was just cold enough to start to make her nose and cheeks feel numb. Fucking winter. Dakota had to admit that Kaden seemed to have a strong opinion on getting mauled, but she figured that was just because he was with Animal Control. “You get a lot of calls, then? Lots of lost puppies, saving kittens from trees?” she tried to joke, despite her sense of humor being quite literally.. Well, awful. Bringing up his girlfriend—Oof. Touchy subject. Note to self, don’t talk to this dude about his relationship issues. “Kavanagh, right? Replaced by Rickers. I’ve gone through some of the old records downstairs and… I mean, her autopsies are seamless. They’re textbook perfect. She’s a damn good examiner, I’ll give her that, but… Sometimes her determinations don’t make any sense given the collected evidence. I mean, some of them don’t even match up with the correlating investigation. You think she’s got some good dirt on a massive scandal in this town?” That’s right, Dakota. The man could have built a physical brick wall around the subject, and you still push. “Just curious, I suppose. Wouldn’t be an investigator if I didn’t ask.”

“Yeah, yeah. Lost puppies and cats in trees. Among other things. It does actually happen, believe it or not. Cats in trees. Ban--” Kaden covered up the last word with a cough. Best not to say banshee to a stranger. “Girlfriends, too, apparently. That wasn’t exactly on duty, though,” he said with a small shrug. “But yeah, there’s lots of calls. Never a dull moment. And a lot of aggressive animals in this place.” Kaden gave a small nod, as he swapped which hand held his cigarette so that he could warm his other hand again. “That’s the one. And Rickers didn’t replace her. For the record. Her position is still open, they used to work together.” He probably came off a little too snappy at that. But he kept close tabs on that position. He needed it to be waiting for her when she was ready to be a person again, whenever that was. Fuck, she needed it more than he did. So far, so good. Lucky for her, most people didn’t like to be drowning in quite as much work as she did. “She’s really fucking smart, yeah. Too fucking smart for me, that’s for sure. And good at her job. Great, even.” 

Kaden took the last drag he could manage of his cigarette before tossing the butt on the ground and snuffing it out with the heel of his boot. “This town is dangerous. And a lot of weird shit happens here. But I pro--” The word caught in his throat. He had a feeling Dakota wasn’t fae, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. Still, he cleared his throat and tried again. “I can assure you whatever Regan put in her reports is exactly as she saw it. And if she had any dirt, it’d be reported faster than your heartbeat.” That said, Regan didn’t see everything in this town for what it was. He wasn’t sure if he should clue Dakota in or leave her to her blissful ignorance. He wished he could have some of his own. But being unaware in this town? It was dangerous. He shifted in his spot, deciding how many cards to lay on the table. “You should be ready for anything here. But I bet you figured that out if you read some of the cases coming out of White Crest.” 

“Look, man, I’m not trying to say anything bad about Kavanagh. I’m just saying some of her rulings are just.. Weird, you know? Some of them don’t make sense. Not when you corroborate it with toxicology reports and the forensic evidence and what the detectives pieced together…” Dakota trailed off, scuffing her boot against the concrete and pieces of gravel, just for something to do. “I don’t doubt she’s smart as hell. I’m just saying they don’t make sense, and if she has any information I’m missing, then I’d really like to talk to her.” 

Kaden definitely seemed jaded about this town. Dakota still didn’t have a good idea as to why, but if her entire career was running around chasing animals and getting in close calls with the aggressive wildlife every other day, maybe she’d be just as jaded as well. But it was a certain tone in his voice that made her think there was something more -- like he was trying to tell her something without explicitly saying it, but she’d been known to overthink things like this, so perhaps she could be wrong. But.. When was she ever really wrong about things like this? 

“You seem to have some type of disdain towards White Crest. I’m not saying it’s Paris, but I don’t necessarily think anything’s wrong with the place. Wanna elaborate on why you’re so…” she gestured vaguely to his all-over stance and slight hint of attitude. “--About it?”

Kaden couldn’t hold back the laugh that blurted its way out. Queen of the Nile Kavanagh was the last person to clue Dakota in on what she was missing. “Sorry, didn’t mean to laugh at you. But this place is just fucking weird. If you can’t handle that you might want to pack in your bags now. Probably best to just accept that and let it lie.” He placed his hand back in his pocket, desperate for another smoke to occupy his hands. “But you can go ahead and talk to her if you want.” He settled for flipping the dud lighter open and closed in his pocket instead. Not as good. “First off, I’m from Lyon not Paris, thanks,” he said with almost a huff. “Disdain,” he repeated, like he was mulling the word over like a fine wine. Was that the right word? “Not sure that’s it. It’s complicated.” His eyes darted away as he tried to place his feelings. “Like I fucking said, this place is weird. It’s a hard town to live in. Not for everyone. And if the death rate’s any indication, not a whole lot of people make it out of here alive. It’ll turn your whole world upside down. For better or worse.” He shrugged before pushing off the wall he was leaning against. Probably time to head back inside soon enough. “That answer your question?”

Kaden’s ominous warnings about White Crest didn’t leave her uneasy, but she did find them quite confusing. It reminded her of something she’d heard in one of her father’s meetings near the end -- 

Here lies a Hampshire Grenadier / Who caught his death / Drinking cold small beer. / A good soldier is ne'er forgot / Whether he dieth by musket / Or by pot. 

A doggerel that served as an unpromising deterrent. She was too young to really understand then, but as Kaden was speaking, Dakota couldn’t help but remember it now. But if he hated the place so much, which he seemed to by the way he was speaking, then why didn’t he just leave? “I guess that answers my question. But I have just one more, unless you have to get back to your all-important paperwork.” she said, clearing her throat before continuing. “Are you saying that if I don’t pack up my bags and skip town, I’m more likely to die here -- or at least die trying to get out?” 

It was tempting to cross his arms, lean back, and look down his nose at her, like he was doing her some kind of favor by taking her final question. Instead, Kaden simply rolled his shoulders back and gave her a small nod. “Not necessarily.” He let out a sigh, wishing it was another puff of smoke after a good hit. It was just his breath visible in the air. “I said what I said. This place will change you before you change it. That much I fucking know.” He couldn’t name one person he knew, not one who he was close to, hell not even anyone he didn’t even care for, who wasn’t left untouched by White Crest. The town wrapped its roots around people and pulled them down deep into this earth. Even if you broke away, pulled yourself out of the dirt, something was left behind, changed. He felt it in his bones. “It’s not all bad.” There were people he relied on more than he wanted to admit to himself let alone a near stranger. He’d almost call them family in a way. Maybe. He wasn’t sure yet. “But it’s tough. No shame in admitting you can’t handle it. But you should probably figure that out sooner than later. That’s all.” 

Dakota simply just listened -- which usually wasn’t something she did, because she always had her opinions and always made them abundantly clear to anyone that listened, because… Well, she liked to think she was always right. Even when she was wrong. But the conversation had went from getting to know some kid in her department to being forewarned about the town she’d just moved to, and that wasn’t necessarily something she’d take lightly. If she didn’t know better, it almost sounded like he was telling her to be careful around this place -- This place will change you before you change it. Something sort of hard to accept for someone who more or less wanted to make the world a better place, one little town like White Crest at a time. The two of them sat in silence for a moment, Dakota’s arms still crossed over her chest before she cleared her throat, just one more time, then nodded towards the back entrance. He’d given her some things to think about, that was for sure, though she wasn’t certain she’d heed his warning. Besides, how terrible could a town be when murders were being solved left and right, regardless of the weird rulings? One thing she did know was that she needed to talk to Kavanagh about her rulings, and go from there. “Right. Probably should get back to work, yeah?” 

[nad-zeta]

Match up | (• ◡•)| (❍ᴥ❍ʋ)

heya!! tysm again fr the ikesen matchup, i loved it sm ♡ sooo now could i pls get a matchup for ikevamp, if its ok? 💞 (ps i hope ur doin ok!!) here’s the info again!!

bi girl, i prefer guys! ambiverted intp, gryffindor or ravenclaw, neutral good, scorpio. i have an older twin sis n i love/hate her sm!!

medium-length straight-ish black hair (side bang to the right) & dark brown eyes!! 5'5-ish, filipina! im getting glasses soon~

complex daydreamer- i crave affirmation/praise!! anxiety, i overthink sm! quiet w/ others cause idk what to say. im like half funny/playful & half deep/awkward- easily annoyed but guilty after cause im soft-hearted. i have a way w/ words, poetic? hopeless romantic! i tend to be quite chaotic? sorta socially anxious-

not innocent/naive but ppl think so at 1st! i look fine but im a big mess. superiority complex, insecure- smart n knowledgeable. passionate! a kid w/ my twin but w/ others, mature. its hard to friend ppl! dramatic but rather closed off. its hard for me to ask fr help- opinionated but i try to understand. i need lots of space,,,

i like to have fun n loosen up but would also just cuddle n have long convos. forgive but never forget- realist but rather optimistic. good w/ technology! imaginative/creative. near-sighted! rather selfish, i put myself 1st. love language is words of affirmation/quality time- stubborn! observant- sensitive.

a habit- i tend to drift away n just think? i care a lot abt how i look! i like bein the best so i get competitive. keyboard smashes!! i swear quite often. i like bein organised! i like makin faces!!

fun fact: math/history r my faves. sometimes im rlly hyper n say the most random things? i fear judgement, future, unknown, n failure. bilingual, learnin french! fr pda only hand-holding?

likes: gaming, affection, jokes (stupid/puns), space (stars), weapons (swords/guns), music, instruments (piano), animals, movies, books, philosophy, psychology, writing, exhilirating stuff, astronomy, mythology, etc.

dislikes: heat, presentations, naivety, stupidity, blind faith, stereotypes, being pressured, etc.

tysm!! shjsjsjs i changed it a bit- anyway, stay safe!! dont forget to take care of urself 💞

Hehe, you are most welcome dear!🥰❤🌻 I’m so happy you sent in another request! You are honestly so sweet! ❤🥰Soz for taking sooo long! I hope you enjoy this dear and I hope you are looking after yourself! Sending lots o hugs! 🌻❤ @x-joie-x

So I match you with………….. Napoleon

The first time Napoleon meets you was when he legit grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him, as he tried to get you out of the mansion. It was not safe for a human in a mansion full of vampire, and this soldier wanted to get you out before it was too late. But alas it was just that, too late. By the time the two of you had arrived at the door from whence u came, it was sealed shut, and no amount of tugging or pulling could get it to open.

Comte, who had heard the commotion, stepped into the hallway to see you and Napoleon trying to open the door. He strode over to you and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder as he led you and the soldier to his study so he could explain. After a lengthy explanation about your current situation he named Napoleon as your personal bodyguard to help you navigate, the Paris of the past

To say you were starting to overthink and get anxious would be an understatement. Napo looked over at your quiet demeanour and scanned your face to find a glimpse of anxiety. After the conversation with Comte was over, Sabastion came to escort you to your room for the night.

The next few days you spent cooped up in your room. Too anxious to leave, u needed time and space to sort through your feelings. 

Your stomach started grumbling, but you just ignored it, cause honesty you were just too stubborn to go downstairs and ask for help. Napo had been pacing outside your door, trying to figure out the best way to coax you from your room. That’s when he heard the rumble coming from your stomach. He gently opens the door and strode into your room, “come nunuche, I made too many pancakes this morning, And I need some help finishing them.” Just as you were about to refuse your stomach gave another loud growl, cue Napoleon bursting out into laughter, “I think its best we feed that little bear before it gets angry.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at Napo, as the soldier went from scary and intimidating to boyish and playful in 0.2 seconds. You smiled as you watch the former Emporer of France try to catch his breath through his full body laughter fit. He finally calmed down and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the dining room. A new fit of laughter erupted from the man as you couldn’t help but crack a joke on your way there. The rest of the afternoon was spent cracking jokes and eating pancakes.

Napo found you incredibly amusing, especially how you could go from funny and playful, to awkward in 2 seconds flat. He loved to joke along with you and then tease you whenever you would turn into an awkward mess the second one of the other residents entered into the room. 

Especially Arthur, you would often get annoyed at his flirty comments and pick up lines, you absolutely left Napo in stitches when you made a sarcastically awkward comment back to Arthur on afternoon. Napo had learned by now that you were actually rather soft-hearted so the minute he saw the guilt flash across your eyes for being annoyed at Arthur’s comments, he squeezed your hand in reassurance, “don’t feel guilty nunuche, trust me he deserves it. Plus if you don’t believe me, just ask Isaac.”

Napoleon would invite you with him every day to help teach the children at his makeshift school. At first, you were somewhat socially awkward, but thanks to Napoleon and Isaac’s encouragement, you actually started teaching a class of your own. Napo loved how smart and passionate you were. You gave your all in teaching the children various topics, and honestly, Napo couldn’t help but fall in love with you. You taught them everything from maths to history, and the children absolutely adored you. So did Napoleon tbh, the man would take sneaky glances just watching you in your element. When stealing these little glances of you, a lovestruck foolish smile would dance across his face, which most certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Isaac or the children.

After class, Isaac would go off to his second job as a professor of the University, leaving you and Napoleon up to your own devices. Napoleon seemed to bring out that playful side of you, as the two of you goofballs would grab lunch at a nearby cafe. Or have a little picnic in the park, and just spend the entire time quick-firing stupid puns and jokes at each other. You sometimes get super hyper and start saying random words, which leads the two of you to have loads of random conversations. And TBH the two of you are always pulling silly faces at each other just for laughs. You live for those moments when u make a joke or pull a face, and monsieur de Whaha starts erupting with laughter. It is a true sight to behold, the way his whole body shakes, and the sight alone is enough to prompt you into your own laughing fit.

The day Napoleon knew you were the one and only woman for him, was the day he found you in the training hall. You loved swords and weapons so when you were helping Sebastian with housework one day, and you came across a vast display of swords, you were absolutely ecstatic. You wasted no time in picking up one of the swords and swishing it around. Napoleon walked into the room just as you pick up one of the swords and his eyes went wide, “pfft what in the world are you doing?” You narrowed your eyes at the man, as he chuckled, “practising, obviously.” 

Napoleon’s eyes lit up as he strode past you to pick up a sword of his own, “then I shall be your partner.” You smiled a broad smile as you went on the offensive and attacked Napoleon. The two of you spent the next few hours smack-talking each other as you fought. Napoleon enjoyed every moment of your fight and the way you were determined to win. He found that competitive side of you rather sexy, so much so that he decided to confess his feelings.

After you had beaten him, he proposed a rematch, but this time he raised the stakes. He went on the offensive, and just before delivering the final blow, he dropped his sword and grabbed hold of you. Smouldering jade blue eyes met your brown ones questioningly, and once he found his answer, he leaned down to kiss you.

The former emperor of France was utterly head over heels for your stubborn optimistic, competitive personality. He absolutely adored what a walking contradiction you were, being both a realist and optimistic, being organized yet messy at the same time. Napoleon had noticed early on in your relationship that you were rather closed off and slowly, but surely he managed to get you to open up to him. The two of you have had many a deep conversation while cuddling. 

He found that whenever you were snuggled in his arm, it was easy to pry information out of you. Especially when he would tickle you. He found out a lot during his cuddle interrogation sessions like how you feared judgement, the unknown future and failure, like how you actually care about your appearance and that you have a superiority complex. None of which scared him off, if anything he loved you more for it! Being sure to curb and banish all your insecurities with the sweetest words of affirmation and praise.

Napo like you, is also a bit of a romantic so this dork will 100% plan dates under the stars, especially after he found out about your love for astronomy and space/stars. He will definitely plan small quiet dates for the two of you, away from the loudness of the mansion. This boi will burst into your room in the afternoon, drag you to the stables, plonk you on top of a hose and before you know it you are sitting in his arms reading or chatting about anything from philosophy to psychology under the shade of a willow tree, surrounded by flowers.

Napo loves your writing, and this boi will insist you read him your fics whenever you finish them. He will spend the next ten days bragging about how amazing your writing skills are to everyone, even going as far as to say your a much better writer than Arthur. 

Knows you need space and alone time and will give you as much as it as you need. He knows you will come and find him once you want some company again. And once you do seek him out, he will crush you in a warm embarrass and whisk you off on some exhilarating adventure.

Mornings between the two of you sweethearts consist of soft, heart-melting moments. Naturally, the first thing Napo does when he wakes up is, plant a loving kiss on your lips. He will tighten his embrace around you as he cracks open his eyes to wish you a good morning all while nuzzling your neck. He knows you are a sucker for sweet words so he will be whispering the sweetest of endearments to you, in between lazy morning kisses. Best be sure this boy will complement and praise you every single day of your life.

Other potential matches…………….. Dazai

I hope you enjoyed this dear! 🌞🌻and I hope you have a super good day! ❤❤🌻

[chappedandfadedvds]

Dec 27th, Sunday 03:01

„Christ! You scared me.“ 

The voice startled Jens. His head flung around, away from the window he had stared out at the dark forest across the snowed in driveway. His eyes closing in on a shadow coming closer. For a moment he was confused if maybe Lucas would have found the side of their bed next to him empty. But it hadn’t been his voice calling out quietly from across the room. Instead he found Sander walking up to him, his eyes squinting at the boy sitting on the floor. He must be confused to see Jens here. It definitely wasn’t time for anyone to be up.

„I thought I’d seen a ghost.“ 

Sander’s light joke fell flat, ending up in him loosing the small smirk grazing his face, as Jens simply kept looking back up at him indifferent. He’d rather be alone. Otherwise he could have stayed in his room in the first place.

„What are you doing here?“

Unfortunately the older boy wasn’t going to go anytime soon, it looked like, as he went to sit down across of Jens, both leaning with their respectively shoulder at the opposite side of the wooden frame of the french window in the living room. There fell silence into the small space between them, as they watched each other. Sander looked tired.

„It’s okay. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. But I’m here, I can’t sleep either, I just thought to get some water and do some thinking. Didn’t know I’d have company.“

Jens hadn’t either. His eyes drifted off to look back out again. There were these mesmerising, thick snow flakes falling slowly from above, dancing across the night. How late was it anyway for Sander to be up? 

It reminded him of all these weeks ago, when Jens had not been able to close his eyes and had the older boy texting him at four in the morning, or however late it had been then. When he hadn’t told Sander about what kept him awake. And he probably wouldn’t tell him now either, if this time it wasn’t for completely other reasons. There had been the odd little conversation between Lucas and Jens before they went to bed about the moment when Lucas had looked at him funny back at the cliff. It had woken him from his sleep and he just couldn’t stand himself to be next to the peacefully sleeping boy. So he had left.

„It’s just too much sometimes. And Luc, I...“ He was really going to talk about this, huh? Though he felt like Sander would probably get him the most of all the people that currently found rest under this roof. „I don’t want to be a burden to him,“

Sander snorted at his words, but sighed when a minute passed without Jens giving any hint of reaction on his side.

„Tell me about it. I’m as broken as one gets.“ The other boy said, with such sorrow, that Jens’s eyes shifted to see the weary expression on his face. There was the lightest hint of a smile on his lips, but it didn’t reached his eyes. It looked so very wrong to Jens in that moment. He didn’t wanted to see Sander like this. 

„That’s not true. You are one of the strongest and coolest people I know. And people love you. Robbe certainly does.“

It did made Sander cheer up a little, pull him out of his blue, as he turned his head to fix his eyes on Jens with a sense of resolve behind them, that only affirmed the younger boy’s statement.

„They love you, too. Lucas definitely does as well, perhaps even more.“

„I know.“ Jens swallowed down the growing lump in his throat. He knew that all too well. He wish he didn’t. „That’s sometimes precicely the problem, I think.“

Sander regarded him in the half shadow of the only lamp outside illuminating the porch. It didn’t spend a lot of light, leaving much of their dimmed expression hidden in a dark greyish shade. But Jens knew that their was worry in the older boy’s eyes.

„Look I’m not the best at giving advice or solving problems, god knows I suck at that. But I’m going to listen if you want to share something.“

It was a very kind notion of the older boy to offer an open ear. But he wouldn’t know where to begin to explain. It was overwhelming enough to open up that door in his mind, yet alone to speak up on it. Jens bit on his lip, his right hand balled into a tight fist, that let his nails dig into his palms to calm his frustration at himself. Sander’s gaze darted briefly down towards it, before they were back up in his face.

„Do you often not sleep?“

A simple question. Simple enough for him to believe to be able to give Sander an answer.

„There is rarely a night going by without me staring at the ceiling at some point. Usually I just wake up early.“

„That sucks.“

„It really does.“

There was another brief pause, as they both dwelled on their own thoughts for a while. He got sleep. Enough to make it through the day. He just never felt well rested. The last week though had been nice. He almost had forgotten how dismal the night could feel like. If only Lucas hadn’t looked like that today. If only Jens wouldn’t have to think about worrying his boyfriend. He hadn’t even thought about it til now that Sander had joined. He had been perfectly still as he watched the snow outside.

„What is it for you?“ Sander asked breaking the silence once more. Jens didn’t quite understood where he was trying to get with it. He watched him puzzled, wrecking his brain for an answer he couldn’t find.

„What do you mean?“ Jens replied instead.

„Like. I for one have these nights when I can’t stop thinking. Where my mind runs marathons at lightning speed, while the world is crushing me. And then there are nights when I want to hide inside the little time I have left at night before the morning comes and I have to face another day. At the worst nights I don’t want to be alive to see the next minute. And I hate to feel like that, but I have to trust Robbe. He told me I wasn’t a burden to him, when I wake him if it get’s too bad, you know. And sometimes he is a little fed up with it, especially if he hasn’t gotten much rest either. But he never leaves. He always stays. So it gets better.“

Lucas did that too, didn’t he?

„How do you trust him to tell the truth?“ Jens dared to whisper. His heart was beating so loud, maybe Sander hadn’t heard him. Perhaps he had only asked himself. But Sander tilted his head lightly, resting his temple on the wooden frame.

„I just have to. I can’t allow myself to think otherwise. And he proves it to me every day. Even on the ones we argue.“

Jens couldn’t quite imagine them arguing. Not since they had got together a year ago. They always seemed to be on the same page, working closely together to face life. His best friend expression lit up everytime his eyes found Sander. Whatever they did they did together. Sander always gave into Robbe’s demands. At rare occasions even the other way around. They were the most amicable couple he knew. He shook himself out of his thoughts. He was drifting off again.

„Sleepless nights are the opposite for me. I don’t think much.“

Sander’s lips curled up, surpressing the laugh in an amused grin.

„Tell me something new.“ He said, letting Jens retrace his words.

„No, wait! Not like that, asshole.“ Jens replied, himself smirking briefly, before their conversation caught back up with them. 

„I mean, I just stare.“ This was hard to admit. Lucas knew, but he only knew because he spent almost every night at his side. Jens didn’t had to explain it to his boyfriend. To Sander on the otherhand, he had to. „I don’t feel much in these moments. These are the rare hours I just get to exist, you know? I’m not sure how to put it into words. It doesn’t make sense, I think. I’m pretty much empty then.“ He exhales deeply, unsure how to proceed from here. Jens tried to just let his mind talk as the thoughts came to him. „And I don’t even have to wake Lucas. He somehow knows, has some radar or some shit. Most of the times at least, he gets me out of it rather quick. And I hate that so much.“

He was an asshole to feel that way. Especially when his boyfriend only tried to support him. Jens should be grateful for it, when he feared he found resentment just hidden right behind.

„But isn’t that a good thing? That he is there and mostly that he wants to be there for you?“

Sander didn’t saw it.

„It is. I just wish he wouldn’t have to do it, you know. We are not even together that long.“

He should stop using that excuse. It got old. It didn’t help.

„Mhm, you are a couple for longer than Robbe and me had been when he found me hiding at the academy. You already have a couple of weeks on your backs.“

Jens knew that. Hence why he tried to desperately ignore how fast time was passing, weakening his poor excuse. Jens felt like he put all the weight on Lucas shoulders almost since the very beginning of their relationship, and it was only growing in size from the moment he had told him about his mom. And it was different from Robbe and Sander, wasn’t it? It involved doing all this grown-up shit. There was of course the flatshare, but most responsibility fell on Milan. Stuff, like banks, lawyers and insurances to deal with, that his friends only needed to worry about earliest next fall after graduation, if not much later. Not even taking Lotte into consideration here for a moment. 

He felt immediately bad for his thoughts. It was his illness that Sander was fighting with constantly. Something he didn’t get to stop with til his last day. That couldn’t and shouldn’t be compared. Fuck.

„So do you at least know why you feel like that?“ 

Right they were still talking. Jens almost had forgotten about the older boy watching him, as Jens felt terrible for the direction his thoughts have taken him.

„I sorta do, yes.“ Jens admitted. He truly did. It started with his mom’s diagnoses in march and ended with his future raising his sister. Of course he knew the reason that kept him awake and made Lucas worry. And in turn made Jens wish he could just stop himself.

„Well that’s a good start, right?“

„I don’t know.“ He really didn’t know how that would be a good start. The solution lay in being able to move forward from this. To find the strength to not cling onto every minute that passed. Time was literally running through his fingers. And he was afraid he was too weak to do that.

„It is, it means you can figure out how to fight it.“ Sander said, smiling at him in encouragement, but it only made Jens’s eyes burn. The fight was already long over.

„I don’t know, Sander.“ 

And then there came the tears. These damn tears, that probably would have appeared anyways. No matter if Sander had been here or not. But it helped to feel the hand of the older boy resting on his shoulder for a second before he got pulled towards the body across. He probably should head back to his room soon. Lucas may already be awake and worried, waiting for Jens to show up again. God, how much he hated that this was the most likely scenario.  Yet for a moment he’d just lean into Sander’s embrace, as he tried to calm down enough to get up, when Sander spoke for one last time this night.

„I think you do.”

__ __ __ tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

[ft-dads-au]

Come Undone

Gratsu Summer Solstice 2020, Prompt: Is it Hot In Here or is it Just Me? I Take Pride In What I Am 2020, Prompt: Growth Pairing: Gray x Natsu Rating: M

A Collaboration by @mdelpin​ and @oryu404​

AO3  | FF.Net

Summary: With Aki staying at his grandparents' place for the weekend, and Lyon out of town for work, Gray finds himself home alone on a Saturday night. He asks Natsu to spend the night with him, hoping to get the chance to really be alone together for the first time.

July 24, 2021

Gray grinned, noticing the slight flush on Natsu’s cheeks as he returned from the stockroom to find him sitting at the bar. He lifted the beer he’d gotten from Mira a few minutes earlier in greeting.

“Hey!” Natsu welcomed him cheerfully, shaking his hand vigorously and squeezing it gently before letting go. “You don’t usually come here on Saturdays. Meeting someone?”

Natsu attended to his customers while trying to hold a conversation, never straying too far from where Gray was sitting.

“I have no doubt Loke will track me down eventually,” Gray snorted, knowing how much his friend hated to be alone these days. “My parents took Aki and the twins for the weekend to give us ’kids’ some alone time. Rogue is holed up somewhere with Sting, but you are sadly working, so I came to visit, and eat.”

No sooner had he uttered the words than a menu had been placed in front of him.

“I’ll be right back,” Natsu said before moving further away to take some drink orders.

Gray flipped through the menu listlessly, not really feeling hungry but well aware there was nothing for him to go home to. Lyon was gone on some work-related thing and wouldn’t be returning until late that night.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to thank you.”

Gray looked up, startled, even more so when he realized it was Mira who was talking. “What?”

Mira giggled into her hand, her eyes twinkling with mirth, “I know we didn’t exactly hit it off the first time we met, but to see Natsu smile again, it means a lot to all of us. So, yeah, thank you.”

He had no idea what to say to that, so he just kind of nodded and hid in his menu, ignoring the sound of Mira’s laughter at his reaction.

“So, have you decided what you want?” Natsu appeared in front of him once again, reminding Gray why he didn’t like visiting him when he was working at Fairy Tail, especially on a busy night like this one. Fairy Tail was located near the college campus. It was a much more popular bar than Crime Sorciere, making it difficult to hold a conversation since Natsu had to flit around constantly.

“I’ll just have a burger,” he muttered moodily.

“Everything okay?” Natsu raised an eyebrow in concern.

“Natsu, it’s already getting pretty busy, why don’t you take your dinner break now, you might not get a chance later,” Mira suggested, “I’ll have them bring both your orders to the break room.”

“Sure, thanks!” Natsu grabbed the menu from Gray’s hands, put it underneath the bar with the others, entered Gray’s order in the computer, and added his own. He gestured for Gray to come with him, grabbing his hand as soon as they were out of view from any prying eyes.

They entered a small, dimly lit lounge with two love seats and a rectangular table with several chairs.

“This is the break room, huh?” Gray remarked, glancing around the room. He was about to say something else when he felt Natsu’s warm lips on his. He hummed contentedly, kissing back and moving his hands down to Natsu’s waist, pulling him flush against him until Natsu broke away.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the second I noticed you were here,” Natsu beamed, licking his lips slowly before leading him to one of the loveseats.

“Not gonna lie, me too,” Gray chuckled, leaning in for another kiss and feeling his lousy mood melt away when Natsu returned it. “I wish you didn’t have to work so much.”

“Yeah, well, bills don’t pay themselves so,” he shrugged, “This place isn’t so bad.”

One of the waitresses came in with their orders and two sodas, setting them on the table. “Here you go, guys!”

“Thanks, Laki!”

The waitress smiled at Natsu and Gray, leaving quickly to get back to her tables.

“And hey, free food!” Natsu cheered, moving to the table and sitting down to eat. “Gotta eat quickly though, I only get thirty minutes,” he explained, shoving a french fry in his mouth. “So what’s going on with you? You looked upset earlier.”

“It’s nothing, I’m just not used to being alone,” Gray shrugged, taking his seat and adding some ketchup to his burger. “It’s fine, Lyon will be home in a couple of hours.”

“Ah, the wife,” Natsu retorted, his mouth widening into a teasing smirk. “Where is he anyway?”

“He left this morning to go do some deposition or something in Oak Town,” Gray explained, taking a bite from his burger and washing it down with the soda. He glanced down at his watch to see how much time they had left before Natsu had to go back to work, frowning when he saw half their time was already up.

Gray knew he should be happy Mira had given them a chance to have dinner together, but it didn’t feel like enough.

He watched Natsu eat, smiling at how messy he was. It was really kind of cute. He continued to eat his own meal, grabbing his phone when a vibration in his pocket alerted him to a text. Reading it did not improve his mood in the slightest. It looked like Lyon wasn’t going to make it home after all.

“Bad news?” Natsu immediately asked, no doubt noticing the change in his expression.

“Lyon isn’t coming home tonight. I guess I’ll have the apartment to myself.”

“I wish I could come over for a bit, but I’m on the clock til 2,” Natsu lamented. “Still got a few minutes though, are you done eating?”

Gray looked down at the plate of food and nodded. He didn’t think he’d be able to eat any more.

“Well, let’s make the most of it then,” Natsu got up from the table, and after bussing their plates, he sat on one of the sofas and patted the seat next to him invitingly.

Gray watched him for a moment, the beginnings of an idea playing in his mind. He’d stayed over at Natsu’s place several times now, why couldn’t Natsu stay with him? With Erza and the kids always sleeping in rooms all around them, they’d never had the chance to really be alone.

He moved over to the sofa, purposefully ignoring the seat Natsu had indicated and choosing to straddle his boyfriend instead. Natsu’s eyes widened in surprise and his entire face, all the way to the tips of his ears, crimsoned at Gray’s proximity.

Gray leaned ever closer, his lips barely brushing Natsu’s before moving to kiss down his earlobe, blowing softly into his ear before whispering, “Stay with me tonight.”

He let his tongue slowly trace the back of the ear, smirking in victory as he felt Natsu squirming underneath him, his quiet moans making Gray forget where they were.

He continued to give small kisses along Natsu’s jaw until he reached those luscious lips. Working his fingers into the pink locks he loved, Gray tugged them roughly, and then he was kissing him hungrily, tasting the burger and fries on Natsu’s tongue as he sucked on it gently. Gray felt a twitch against his cock and backed away, realizing he’d gone too far.

Natsu was panting, his face still red as he stared up at him with eyes as wide as saucers. Gray scrambled off him, sitting in the spot Natsu had offered earlier.

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Gray quickly apologized, “I got carried away, I just wanted to give you some incentive.”

Natsu waved his apology away, closing his eyes tightly as he struggled to get his breathing under control.

“Incentive, huh?” Natsu repeated suddenly, bursting into amused laughs, “Is that what you call that? How am I supposed to go out there like this?”

“At least your color’s returning to normal,” Gray informed him helpfully, earning himself a playful slap on the shoulder. “So, what do you say? Stay with me tonight?”

He wrapped his arms around himself, tensely awaiting Natsu’s answer, and when it didn’t come right away, he worried that he’d somehow pushed too far.

“I need to talk to Erza first,” Natsu finally responded, and although Gray wished he could have a more definite answer, he knew it was the best one he could expect. Neither one of them could really take off on a whim anymore.

“Okay, text me later?”

“Yeah,” Natsu agreed, closing his eyes again, “Can you let Mira know I’ll be out in a few minutes?”

“Sure,” Gray replied, still feeling a little guilty but not enough to really feel bad. He kissed Natsu as chastely as he could manage and made his way back to the bar.

0-0

It had been hours since Gray had received Natsu’s text, but it felt much longer, almost as if time had stopped entirely. He’d tidied the apartment, changed his sheets, vacuumed, took a shower, and even did a laundry load, yet somehow it was still only midnight.

He was getting more impatient by the minute, and finally, he’d had enough of waiting. He went into his closet, changing into a shirt Natsu had once mentioned made his eyes look less droopy, which was about as close to a compliment as the jerk ever gave, and a pair of tight jeans. After examining himself in the mirror, Gray went downstairs to wait for the cab he’d called.

He looked up sexy drink names on his phone to pass the time until he arrived at Fairy Tail, laughing at how ridiculous some of them sounded and knowing the only bartender he’d ever be brazen enough to ask them of was his boyfriend.

Gray entered the bar, relieved to see the band dismantling their instruments. It was already one o’clock, and the bar was mostly empty. Employees were sweeping the floors and cleaning up the tables.

Natsu was laughing with the few customers that remained, and Gray’s heart skipped a beat at the sound. He made his way to the opposite side of the bar and waited for Natsu to notice him.

He kept his head down, continuing to look through drink names and deciding which one he was going to ask for.

“What can I get you?”

“I’d like some sex with the bartender,” Gray snickered, unable to keep a straight face.

“You’re hilarious,” Natsu rolled his eyes, “And here I thought you were going to ask for something classy like a Dick Sucker.”

Gray giggled again, “How do people order these?”

“You’d be surprised,” Natsu shrugged, “Unlike most of the people who ask for it though, you might actually get it.” He winked and mixed some sort of colorful drink, handing it to him. “Here, try this.”

Gray sipped it and hummed in approval.” What is this? It’s delicious!”

“Just a little something I like to call, my boyfriend got me all fired up at work and then left me to deal with a boner.”

“That’s kind of long, and oddly specific. I doubt it will catch on,” Gray quipped, snickering as Natsu flipped him off.

“I thought I was meeting you at your place,” Natsu remarked, “Didn’t want to be alone? or…. Couldn’t wait to see me?”

“Couldn’t wait to see you,” Gray admitted sheepishly, “Plus, if I cleaned anything else, Lyon might start leaving every weekend.”

Natsu laughed, “Considering your stuff is usually a mess, you’re probably right. I gotta go get started with clean up, but it should only be another thirty minutes or so.” He leaned over the bar, kissing Gray on the cheek and murmuring, “I missed you too.” before hurrying away.

Gray waited as patiently as he could manage, sipping his drink and playing a game on his phone until Natsu was finally done. He glanced around only to realize that the bar had emptied out of everyone but the employees.

“Come on, Mr. Incentive, let’s get out of here,” Natsu prodded, grabbing him by the hand once he stood up and pulling him towards the rear exit, calling out goodbyes to his coworkers on his way out.

“Where’s your car? Mine’s this way,” he asked once they were outside.

“No car, I took a cab.”

“Did you now?” Natsu’s eyes glinted with mischief right before pinning him against the wall of the building adjacent to Fairy Tail.

Gray didn’t fight, curious to see what his boyfriend would do, but he hadn’t expected Natsu to imitate his earlier actions, and before he knew it, he was the one squirming as a warm tongue swirled against his ear. Before he had a chance to get used to the sensation, Natsu had already moved to nibble and suck on his earlobe, his hand moving to caress the base of his neck, making Gray shiver with pleasure.

“Unngh, Natsu,” Gray groaned, feeling his cock respond to Natsu playing with his body.

As soon as it started, Natsu had stopped, and Gray could only stare at him in disbelief.

“Now, we’re even.” He smirked, continuing to walk towards his car, leaving Gray to rearrange himself and navigate his way to the car uncomfortably.

0-0

The streets were empty as Natsu drove them to Lyon’s apartment. Gray wanted nothing more but to pay him back for his little stunt earlier, but they were in Erza’s car, and he didn’t have a death wish.

He waited impatiently for security to be done with them, for the first time since he’d arrived in Magnolia wishing that he lived in a typical building. One where he could do what he wanted in the elevator without it being transmitted to cameras downstairs. He contented himself with holding Natsu’s hand and massaging his knuckles, instantly forgiving him for earlier when he received a pleased but tired smile at his caresses.

Gray had no idea what to expect from tonight, and he told himself that even if they did nothing but sleep as always, he would be content. But they had been dating for about three months now, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping for something a little more physical now that they were alone.

He wanted to discover Natsu’s sounds when he was coming undone, see his face as he lost himself in pleasure and more than anything he wanted to be the one that made him feel that way. There were plenty of ways to do that without delving into areas that would make his boyfriend uncomfortable. At least that’s what Gray hoped. He didn’t really know how Natsu felt about it, which he knew was probably a bad thing.

Gray had never initiated the preferences talk, mostly because he was terrified of the answers. The way he saw it, the fact that Natsu somehow seemed to return his feelings was a miracle in and of itself, and he had no desire to push his luck.

They exited the elevator, and he took out his keys, fumbling to get them in the lock as his hand began to tremble. Natsu put his hand over his and helped him guide it into the lock.

Gray turned to smile at him gratefully, relaxing when Natsu said, “I’m nervous too.”

They entered the apartment, removed their shoes, placed them on the rack Lyon kept by the door and closed the door behind them.

Natsu whistled as he took in Gray’s efforts, “You weren’t kidding, this place looks great!”

Not as great as you...

Gray thought the words but kept them to himself, embarrassed by how childish they sounded even if they were true.

“Can I get you anything?”

Natsu shook his head, and Gray once again noticed how tired he seemed.

“You look beat, come on,” Gray grabbed him by the hand and led him to his bedroom, sitting him on his bed while he rummaged through his drawers for some pajama pants he could lend him. Finding a pair he thought would fit, he offered them to his boyfriend.

Natsu laughed, “That’s sweet, but I don’t need them. I only wear them at home because of Hana and Erza.”

“Oh,” Gray put them back in the drawer, and when he turned to join Natsu on the bed, he startled to find him standing behind him instead, wearing nothing but a pair of snug-fitting black boxer briefs.

Gray’s eyes traveled over Natsu’s body, taking in the toned muscles of his stomach and chest, his broad shoulders and the strong line of his jaw until he’d reached his face again, where a smile was waiting for him that made his knees weak.

“See something you like?” Natsu smirked at his reaction, looking way too pleased with himself, and as much as Gray wanted to come up with a snappy response to shut him up, he found his tongue was tied. However, other parts of his body were waking up, and they were quite interested in the display.

Gray closed the distance between them swiftly, realizing there was more than one way to shut his boyfriend up. His arms snaked around Natsu’s hips, pulling the slightly shorter male against him as his mouth quickly found its way to Natsu’s lips.

He heard Natsu’s breath hitch as his mouth was invaded, and as they kissed, Gray let his hands roam along Natsu’s naked back until finally settling on an area he hadn’t dared explore yet. At first, he was content to let them rest there, but when Natsu didn’t complain, he became more adventurous, squeezing and kneading the firm butt cheeks. Natsu’s groan excited him, and he gave an enthusiastic thrust, surprised when Natsu ground against him as well.

Gray could feel Natsu’s fingers fumbling with his shirt buttons, undoing them one by one until his chest was exposed. Natsu wasted no time pulling his shirt off, his hands exploring Gray’s chest, sending jolts of pleasure that soon had him feeling a welcome tightness in his pants. He moaned, and Natsu took the opportunity to interrupt their kiss and nibble at his collarbone.

“Natsssu,” Gray shuddered. He’d never realized his neck was so sensitive.

“I thought about you all night,” Natsu whispered breathily into his ear while gently running his fingernails across Gray’s scalp, sending shivers across his entire body.

“Me too.” Gray had never seen Natsu this turned on before, so eager to tease and touch, and it was making it incredibly hard to think about anything other than tossing him on his bed and ravaging him. Gray desperately wanted to drive him crazy with his mouth, hands, and anything else he could think of.

So he did just that. He picked Natsu up, tossed him on his bed, unbuttoning his pants, and undoing the zipper carefully before pulling them off. He glanced up to find Natsu watching his every move with an expression that seemed almost hungry. There was no hiding the tent in his underwear.

“Someone’s eager,” Gray teased as he neared the bed, his own arousal in full view.

Natsu chuckled but didn’t argue the point.

Gray climbed on his bed, crawling over to where Natsu lay and straddling him. He took a second to admire the man that lay beneath him before kissing him again, so deeply he could barely breathe.

“I love the way you kiss me,” Natsu breathed into his mouth, wrapping his arms around him and letting his hands slide down his spine, finally resting them at the small of his back.

It was such a simple gesture, yet Gray felt it echo throughout his entire body. He could only stare in shock, not accustomed to anything remotely like this. He fumbled for words, but nothing came close to expressing how those words affected him, so he settled for, “I love the way you make me feel.”

Natsu’s whole face lit up at his words, and Gray once again felt lost but also elated. He peppered Natsu’s jaw with kisses working his way down his neck. He felt Natsu’s fingers threading through his hair, tugging at it, letting Gray know he wanted more.

Gray worked his way back up, nibbling and kissing every spot he could, chuckling when Natsu captured his lips impatiently, his hands holding Gray’s head in place.

“You’re so beautiful,” Gray’s thumb caressed Natsu’s cheek gently, smiling as he wrinkled his nose at the compliment. “I want to make you feel good.”

“You already are, dummy,” Natsu replied, giving a quick ruffle through Gray’s already messy hair, “thought that was pretty obvious.”

“I can do so much better, though,” Gray promised, moving down to his throat and gently sucking on his boyfriend’s Adam’s apple, reveling in the vibrations he could feel against his lips as Natsu groaned softly.

Gray left a trail of kisses as he worked his way down Natsu’s chest until he reached his next destination. He blew gently on the perky bud, using his tongue to slowly lick his way up the areola, getting closer and closer but always stopping just shy of the nipple.

“Graaaaay!”

“Hmmm,” Gray agreed, finally flicking the nipple with his tongue and giving it a gentle bite.

“Fuck!” Natsu moaned, his fingers clenching around Gray’s hair and his hips thrusting upwards in a reflexive response, sending a shudder of pleasure through his body that drew out the moan.

The feel of Natsu’s cock rubbing against his, even through the fabric of their underwear, was enough to distract Gray from what he’d been doing. He ground against Natsu, using all the restraint he had in him to keep his movements slow. He glanced at Natsu’s face, wanting to make sure he was okay with this. But before he could ask, he felt Natsu thrust his hips up again.

“Natsu?” Gray hesitated, still worried until he saw the warm smile on Natsu’s face, and that was all the encouragement he needed to continue. He rolled his hips, watching that smile evolve into an expression he’d only seen in his fantasies until that moment, but none of them had been as satisfying as the real thing.

Natsu met his every thrust with fervor, the sounds of their moans filling the room, getting louder and more urgent as they got closer to their climax. Gray’s eyes hadn’t wandered from Natsu’s face since they had begun frotting, enraptured by the emotions playing out on his features, the trust reflected in his eyes. He fretted that maybe the constant weight of his gaze would make Natsu self-conscious, but then he realized his boyfriend had never looked away either.

Gray couldn’t remember the last time sex had felt this good. The movements in itself weren’t really any different, the familiar pressure building up inside him nothing new. But the feeling of warmth blooming in his chest as their gazes lingered somehow heightened his pleasure to an entirely new level.

Even after all those years of admiration Gray had experienced as a model, he’d never felt more wanted than he did now. There wasn’t a spotlight in the world he’d rather be in than that of those gorgeous green eyes, and it was an incredible turn-on.

“I’m close,” Gray panted, his thrusts speeding up now that he felt the telltale tightening that heralded his release.

“Me too,” Natsu gasped, his hands moving to Gray’s ass, pulling his hips down harder as he drove up.

“GRAAAAAY!” Natsu yelled, his body jerking as he came. The warm wetness of his release seeped through the fabric of their underwear, followed by Gray’s own only a few frantic thrusts later. They slowed down, continuing to grind together as they worked each other through their orgasms, making a mess on their stomachs.

“That felt so good,” Gray sighed, leaning down to kiss Natsu before collapsing on top of him, his arms burning from holding himself up as their thrusting had become more intense. He could still hear Natsu yelling out his name as he climaxed in his mind, and it filled him with a joy he hadn’t felt in years. He wanted nothing more than to hold him in his arms, whisper sweet nothings into his ear, and bask in the intimacy of the moment they had just shared.

He rolled off his boyfriend, lying down next to him and ignoring the mess they’d made for the moment. The sound of Natsu’s uneven breathing reached Gray’s ears, and he could only chuckle. He grabbed Natsu’s hand and brought it up to his lips for a kiss.

He’d loved the way Natsu’s eyes had never left his as they moved together, had felt connected to him at every kiss, every touch, every moan. It had filled him with a confidence he’d lost during his time with Siegrain, where it had always been more about the act than any feelings between them.

It surprised him a little that Natsu had yet to say anything, but he wasn’t too troubled. This was new, after all. They’d both need some time to adjust, it was only natural. He contented himself with visions of what their future could be, the dream he’d begun to build in his mind the first time he’d stayed at Natsu’s house growing bigger by the second.

They’d keep working hard so that Natsu could pass the rest of his tests, get a job with more regular hours, and free up his time to spend with friends and family. They’d be able to indulge in many more nights like this, moving their relationship forward slowly until Natsu was ready for more.

The silence continued to build, and now it was making Gray nervous. He snuck a glance at Natsu’s face, a weight settling on his chest as he noticed the arm covering Natsu’s eyes, which had been so open and welcoming just a few minutes ago.

He wracked his brain, trying to think of anything he might have done wrong, but everything had been so wonderful. What had happened? Did Natsu regret it now that it was over? Had he not been good enough?

Gray knew he couldn’t give in to those thoughts, not when he’d worked so hard to move away from them. No, he should just ask.

“Natsu?” he winced at how shaky his voice sounded, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

He received no answer, feeding into his fears and filling him with the urge to get up and hide in his shower until he could think of a way to fix whatever he’d managed to do wrong.

He thought he heard sniffles and decided to try one more time, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Natsu replied, and now Gray was sure of it, Natsu was crying. He had no idea why, but it didn’t stop him from feeling miserable. Had he misunderstood?

“No, you’re not.” Gray sat up to get a good look at his boyfriend, “Please tell me what’s wrong, did I- did I do something?”

Natsu shook his head, still refusing to look at him. That connection Gray had felt between them just moments earlier seemed to evaporate, creating a distance between them that he was all too familiar with.

“I need you to talk to me,” Gray pleaded, “I can’t do this again.”

This time Natsu moved his arm away from his face, his expression puzzled, “Do what again?”

“I just... If I did something wrong, you need to tell me, don’t distance yourself from me and leave me to figure it out on my own.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Gray, it’s me,” Natsu admitted, wiping his eyes with his hand, staring down at the wedding band he still wore.

That was all Gray needed to understand what was happening, “Oh God, you weren’t ready for this, were you? I should’ve realized when you didn’t say yes right away.”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Natsu cut in, but Gray was so caught up in his guilt, he didn’t fully register the words and continued to rush out his apology.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed-”

“What?! No, will you just listen to me?”

Natsu sat up and paused for a few seconds before he explained, “You didn’t push me to do anything I didn’t want to. I’m not upset because I wasn’t ready, I’m upset because I was.”

“I don’t understand,” Gray ran a hand through his hair, confused and still anxious because even though it seemed like he hadn’t done anything wrong, Natsu was still upset about something.

“It’s difficult to explain,” Natsu sighed, offering him a small smile.

“I really like what you and I have,” he grabbed Gray’s hand in his and held his gaze once more, “but every time we do something I’d only done with her, it’s like I’m leaving more of her behind, and it’s hard. She’s all I knew.”

“Oh...” Gray let go of Natsu’s hand, and unable to contain his disappointment, he hid his head in his hands, not wanting his boyfriend to see.

“Ugh, I said that all wrong,” Natsu groaned. “Please look at me?”

Gray hesitated, but he knew he couldn’t hide from this, not if he wanted their relationship to work. He’d known from the beginning that it wasn’t going to be easy, but he was determined to fight for it.

What Natsu had said wasn’t unreasonable, Gray knew that. Their previous relationships had been very different. It was natural for Natsu to want to cling to his happy memories, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to make new ones with him. He’d said as much. Gray just needed to accept that Lisanna would always be a part of Natsu and let go of the insecurities that tried to tell him that he wasn’t good enough for someone like Natsu, and he never would be.

He took a deep breath and tried to put his feelings into words.

“I get what you’re saying,” Gray offered his hand and waited for Natsu to take it, “You’re not ready to let go of Lisanna, and that’s okay, I don’t expect you to, but I don’t want to be a replacement either.”

“I’ve never thought of you as a replacement for her, Princess,” Natsu protested, “But I can’t just pretend those ten years of my life didn’t happen, either. Every day she gets further away, and I can’t help but feel guilty for letting that happen.”

“I guess I have the opposite problem, I want to forget the last ten years happened, but I can’t,” Gray lamented.

“Forgetting isn’t the answer, Gray.”

“I know, I just don’t know what is,” he answered honestly, hoping that Natsu would let it go but knowing it wasn’t likely.

“What did you mean when you said you can’t do this again?” Natsu asked, latching on to the words he’d blurted out in his panic.

Gray peered at Natsu, unsure of how much he wanted to share of his time with Siegrain, still concerned that Natsu would think less of him for some of the things he’d done. But if he was asking Natsu to be open and honest with him, he figured he should do the same.

“Siegrain had this thing he did where he’d act like I’d done something wrong, but he’d never tell me what. He’d just take off and leave me alone to figure it out, or even worse, he’d stick around and act distant.” Gray tried to keep all emotion out of his voice, but it was difficult. Just thinking about how that had made him feel was enough to put him back there.

“That’s awful! And you thought I was doing the same thing?” Natsu murmured in sudden understanding, “God, I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention at all, no wonder you freaked out.”

Gray found himself enveloped by one of Natsu’s hugs, and he melted into it.

“You mean so much to me, and what we just did...it was amazing. I’m so sorry I ruined it.”

The words reassured Gray, reminding him that Natsu was a very different man from his soon to be ex-husband. It gave him hope that if they both kept trying, one day, they would both rise above the things that still held them back, together.

“You didn’t ruin it,” Gray objected.

“Gray,” Natsu declared, his features settling into a stubborn pout, “I ruined it.”

“Fine, maybe a little,” Gray reluctantly gave in, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s expression.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Natsu promised, “Next time it’ll be even better. I mean, I had no fucking clue what I was doing, and it was awesome, just imagine what it’ll be like now that I have some experience!”

“I’m gonna be honest, all I heard was next time,” Gray couldn’t help but tease, laughing at his boyfriend’s outrage.

He was glad they’d been able to discuss what had happened, and he did feel better knowing he hadn’t messed anything up.

Gray glanced down at his watch, groaning when he saw it was already close to four o’clock. It was so late, but he couldn’t really fall asleep like this, sticky with sweat and come.

“Hey, Mr. Experience, I’m going to jump in the shower to rinse off, you coming?”

Gray had to keep himself from laughing at the sheer panic on Natsu’s face, deciding to offer him a way out instead. “You can take your own shower if you want, but it’s late, and it might be nice to fall asleep together.”

He held his hand out, waiting for Natsu to make his decision. It took him a minute, but he grabbed it eventually, following Gray into the bathroom. They bickered about the water temperature as they removed their underwear and threw them into the hamper. Not that that was unexpected, but it took the edge off the awkwardness of being naked in front of the other for the first time, bringing back a sense of familiarity that they both needed after such an eventful night.

Once inside the shower, Gray grabbed his bodywash and poured a large amount onto a pouf, scrubbing himself quickly. He was about to wash his back when Natsu finally made his entrance. He grabbed the pouf out of Gray’s hand and took over, scrubbing his backside all the way down to his feet. Gray grabbed the shampoo and washed his hair quickly, rinsing off once Natsu was done.

Gray turned to face his boyfriend, watching as he scrubbed himself before handing him the pouf and turning around. He returned the favor, amused at Natsu’s behavior, but respecting the boundaries he had set. All of this was still new to him, and Gray knew he had to be patient. Besides, if things went well, there would be plenty of steamy showers in their future.

They dried off and got ready for bed. Gray grabbed two pairs of underwear from his dresser, tossing one to Natsu, who quickly put it on. They climbed into bed, completely exhausted from the long day. Gray pulled the covers over them, and soon they settled into their usual sleeping position of Gray lying on his back while Natsu rested his head on his chest, arm draped casually over his middle.

“Thanks for staying over,” Gray murmured, putting his arm around Natsu and pulling him closer.

But the only response he got was the sound of Natsu’s snores. Gray kissed Natsu’s head, pink hair still damp from the shower, and carrying the scent of his shampoo.

“Good night, my love. Sleep well,” he whispered, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

He closed his eyes, drifting off in no time at all.

[rhub4rb]

Of Birds and Bugs

AO3

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

-_-_-_-

Gotham truly was a beautiful city.

Marinette had gotten a good look at it after she had transformed, flying up in the air and looking for a good place to detransform in, ending up in an alley somewhere.

Her Ladybug suit had changed after her debut as NeTi. Now, she had a black, long-sleeve cheongsam top, with a red sleeveless top that had a round neckline, dots placed a bit more strategically with one small at the top, one big in the middle, and another small one at the bottom front, where it stopped around her bellybutton.  It had two long coattails, going down to her knees. Her legs and stomach were completely black, save for the red soles on her shoes.

She had been quite happy to find that there was a hole in the middle of her back, where wings now resided on her bare skin.

After Marinette had detransformed, she had panicked when she realized she had forgotten her medical mask back in her hotel room. Tikki told Marinette to just put up her hood and then it would be hard to recognize her.

So, Marinette walked the dark streets of Gotham alone, and despite everything in her logical mind yelling that it wasn't safe, Marinette hadn't felt this relaxed in ages. Maybe it was the continuous sound of cars driving by, or the chatter of people walking down the streets.

Marinette, in all her loneliness, had taken to keeping her skylight open at night, focusing on the sound of people.

For some reason, it helped her breathe.

Of course, that came with its own set of dangers, namely Chat Noir, but Marinette had gotten good at waking up from the sense of him near.

It was nice that no one seemed to recognize her either. She knew that it was probably because of the dark and her hoodie dress, but it was still a nice little break.

Marinette let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping. She pulled out her phone, going wide-eyed as she saw what the time was.

"I should probably head back to the hotel..." She mumbled under her breath.

She looked around, before discreetly walking into an alley where she could transform. Marinette pulled on her oversized hoodie's neckline, Tikki sleeping in one of the inside pockets she had made.

Marinette was just about to tell Tikki that it was time to go, when she heard a thud on the roof of one of the buildings.

She let go of her neckline quickly, and looked up, only to see a boy's silhouette.

-

It was a standard patrol that night.

It had been pretty uneventful so far, in Damian's opinion, and he really wasn't in the mood to go around Gotham today.

For some weird reason, his father had thought it was a good idea to invite an entire class from France to visit Gotham, and Damian just knew that at least one of them would cause problems. He did not feel like babysitting a class full of foreigners that didn't speak English, no thank you.

Damian snapped out of his internal complaining however when he spotted a hooded figure walking into a dark alley. He felt suspicion crawl up his neck, and he quickly told the others that he was checking something out real quick.

When he landed on the roof of one of the buildings, the person quickly turned around to see where the noise came from.

Damian felt his breathing hitch when wide bluebell eyes met his.

In the girl's fast turn, her hood had fallen off, revealing midnight blue hair, hiding peach pink coloring.

"Hello..." She said faintly, and Damian noted a slight heating in his cheeks.

"You know, it's quite late for an attractive girl like yourself to be out. Especially in Gotham."

"O-oh!" The girl coughed, looking anywhere but at him. "I- uh, I got a bit lost. I've never been to Gotham before so..." she trailed off, her foot awkwardly kicking the ground.

Damian heard a slight french accent, and he wondered if she was part of the French class he had been complaining about all day.

"You're one of the heroes from here, right?" She looked up at him with her big eyes, and Damian hated how endearing it made her appear.

"Robin," he said curtly.

The girl smiled brightly at him, Damian cursing his heart for fluttering.

"My name's Marinette, I'm here with my class on a trip from France. It's an honor to meet you."

Her name sounded familiar to him, but he brushed it off. He had met so many people in his life already, he wouldn't be surprised if he'd met a Marinette before.

"Well Angel, how about I take you back to the hotel," he spoke before thinking.

Damian considered taking back the statement for a moment, but the way the girl's eyes lit up and her smile widened made him stop in his tracks.

"I mean, if it's not a bother then-"

"Of course not," Damian jumped down from the roof, and for the first time got a closer look at the girl's face.

He noticed the faint freckles peppering her cheeks, as well as the light blush that even touched her ears. Damian thought she looked familiar, but he shook the thought out of his head.

This was her first time in Gotham, so there was no reason for her to seem familiar to him.

She was pretty too, beautiful even. He felt as if he would remember if he had met her.

"So, Angel, are you ready?"

Her answering smile had his heart beating faster.

-

Marinette thought about Robin as she lied in her hotel bed, trying to fall asleep.

The heroes in Gotham were different to those in Paris.

Robin couldn't be much older than Marinette herself, and yet here he was fighting crime, even without a protective layer of magic to help him.

It was something that had always scared Marinette about the heroes without magic. They were just normal human beings, they weren't built for fighting the same way Marinette now was.

Of course, Marinette wasn't magic, at least not completely, but she still had magic that helped protect her, and that magic was powered by what was essentially the goddess of creation!

It was both inspiring and nerve-wracking at the same time.

Marinette let out a sigh.

She had woken up about an hour ago, having fallen out of the bed. Marinette stayed mostly quiet, not wanting to wake Tikki up at three in the morning, so instead, she had spent the early hours of the morning being on her phone.

Now an hour had gone by however, and Marinette was starting to feel both restless and bored.

She checked the time, deciding to take a shower. There was still a while before the class had to meet up, so she wasn't too worried about not making it in time. Truth be told, Marinette hadn't been late to school in a while. Now she always woke up early, having a quick one hour practice before getting ready to leave.

Of course, there were more enjoyable ways to wake up, and falling out of the bed was never really nice. Marinette was happy to say that it didn't happen too often however.

When she was done with her shower, Marinette started to get dressed, noticing her phone buzzing on the bed, stirring Tikki slightly.

Marinette went to turn it off when she read the messages that had been sent.

'Lila somehow managed to talk to Bustier into changing some plans'

The first text from Alix read, and Marinette's heart sunk.

'we're leaving early- Lila told Bustier she had informed you of the changes'

Panic took its place in Marinette's stomach.

'the bus leaves @8'

Marinette quickly looked at the time, and for a moment, she wanted nothing more than to throw her phone.

8:05

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

This was fine. She would just ask Claude, her bodyguard, to drive her there. He was going to come with her anyway for the tour anyway.

Marinette sighed, nudging Tikki awake.

"Time to wake up Tikki, Claude will drive us to the Wayne building."

"Wh- wha?"

Marinette just smiled at her drowsy kwami, before putting Tikki in her purse and putting on her black medical mask.

When she walked out of her room, she saw Claud stood ready for her outside of her door.

"I'm sorry to inform you that your class has already left," Claude said, wincing at his words.

"Yeah, I know, Alix texted me that Lila pulled some strings," Marinette grinned wrily, though Claude couldn't see it. "I don't know what strings she has to pull, but..." she shrugged.

Claude sighed, ruffling her hair and ignoring the indignant 'hey!'.

"Let's go Mari, I'm sure you don't want to be more late than you already are."

-

Dick was looking very forward to the french class arriving for the tour.

After Damian had gone slightly off route for last night's patrol, then saying that he would be back but then not showing up for an hour, it made his three brothers drill him about what happened.

It took a while, and a lot of prying, but Dick figured it out before the others did.

"So who's the girl?"

Damian had stiffened, and that was when Dick knew he had hit the mark.

The others had noticed too, and Jason had pounced immediately.

"A girl talked to Demon Spawn and didn't immediately run for the hills?" He asked in overdramatized shock. "This is a once in a lifetime chance! No way another girl will do that."

"Shut up, Todd," Damian grit out.

Dick would have felt bad for Damian,  if it weren't for the fact that he found it way too amusing.

"It's a statistical improbability!" Tim added.

"So, what is the unfortunate soul's name?" Jason asked, slinging his arm over Damian's shoulder.

Damian crinkled his nose in disdain, lifting Jason's arm off of his shoulder in disgust. Looking around the excited faces of his brothers, he let out a tired sigh and crossed his arms.

"Marinette," He grumbled out. "I didn't get her last name, but she's here with that french class or whatever."

There was quiet between the brothers for a bit before Dick finally asked.

"You mean Marinette like NeTi Marinette? Rock idol NeTi?" Dick squeaked out.

Damian thought about it a little before shrugging.

"I don't know, but I don't think so? Isn't her hair black or something?" When all of his brothers nodded, Damian shook his head. "Then it wasn't her. Some of her hair was dyed."

The brothers deflated, bummed at the missed opportunity.

Dick, Tim, and Jason were all big NeTi fans. Tim was the first one to start listening to his music. He had always been a big Jagged Stone fan, so when he found out that his favorite musician's "niece" was releasing music, he checked it out. Dick and Jason followed soon after, but Damian never really gave her music a try.

Something about her probably being a flake.

Still, despite the disappointment, Dick wanted a look at the girl who had somehow charmed his youngest brother. Which was why he was confused when the french class arrived, but no girl fitting the description Damian gave was there. After a quick headcount, Dick was quick to bring this to the teacher's attention.

"Mme. Bustier?" The teacher looked at him with a questioning gaze. "You seem to be missing a student."

Her eyes widened, and Dick got the sinking feeling that the teacher hadn't counted her students before leaving the hotel. Great.

"If you wouldn't mind, is it okay if I took attendance for a moment?"

Dick nodded, but Mme. Bustier got cut off before she even got the chance to start.

"Don't worry, that won't be necessary."

Dick looked towards the sound of his brother's voice, his eyes widening at the sight of his brother linking arms with a girl he could only assume was Marinette.

-

Damian wanted nothing more than to find Marinette the day after patrol.

He used the information that he had, which was her first name and the fact that she was part of the French class that would be touring Wayne Enterprises, to try and find her.

He would have tried to get more information on her, but Bruce had strictly told all of his sons that they were not allowed to research the class, for some stupid reason that he wouldn't tell.

He didn't understand why, and he was highly tempted to say screw the rules, but one stern look from Alfred stopped him.

Instead, he decided to go with his brother to give the tour, in hopes that he could meet the girl as a civilian.

He was quick to notice however, once the class arrived at the front doors where he stood, keeping an eye out for her, that she wasn't there.

His brows furrowed, and he looked around in confusion and counting the class.

She wasn't there.

Had she lied?

No, there was supposed to be one more student, Damian noted as he counted them all.

They didn't forget her, did they?

Damian cursed under his breath and walked out, ignoring his brother calling out to him, as he started heading towards the parking lot. If he was lucky, she would still be at her hotel, and he could run into her there.

He didn't get very far however, as almost as soon as he stepped foot into the parking lot, someone walked into him.

"Hey! Look where you're-"

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going and then-"

Damian was just about to level a glare at the girl, when his eyes widened in recognition.

"-and my class sort of left me behind so I was in a bit of a hurry and-"

She was rambling, he realized, and he wondered briefly about whether or not she had taken a breath yet.

"It's okay," He finally cut her off. "You said your class left you behind?"

He looked her over, noting the black medical mask she was wearing, as well as a tall man in a suit standing not that far behind her, reminding Damian of a bodyguard.

"Yeah, they uh, apparently changed the time of the tour, and I wasn't informed about it, so..." She trailed off.

It angered Damian slightly. He didn't know her, sure, but Gotham wasn't a safe city to be in, especially alone. How the teacher allowed this to happen, he had no idea.

"Well, I happen to know the route the tour is going, I could show you to your class?" Damian asked.

Marinette looked behind her, and when the unknown man in a suit nodded, Marinette beamed at him.

"That would be wonderful, thank you!"

Damian looked at the guy with narrowed eyes before looking at the girl and offering his arm.

"If you don't mind me asking, who's your friend over there?" She stiffened slightly, before laughing awkwardly.

"He's uh... A type of chaperone?" Her eyes crinkled and she shrugged. It was hard to tell what she was thinking or feeling when half of her face was covered. "I'm Marinette, by the way. Nice to meet you," She smiled.

"Damian. It's nice to meet you too," Damian relaxed, easing into a small smile, and he started to lead the girl towards the irresponsible class. "So Angel, is it your first time in Gotham?"

He hadn't meant for the nickname he had given her the night before to slip, but it didn't seem she noticed, stuttering a response.

"Y-yeah. I only really travel to Asia when I go places..." She trailed off, looking thoughtful.

"Oh? Where have you been?"

And just like that, they fell into easy conversation.

At least, until they reached the class.

-_-_-_-

@ozmav @skyel0ve @kuroko26 @shizukiryuu @fangirl-food-feelings @driftingmoonlitpetals @spicybelladonna @thebookwormfairy @god-is-dead-and-so-am-i @melicmusicmagic @minightrose @graduatedmelon @awkwardturtlez @sizzling-fairy-oil @thornangelic727 @royalchaoticfangirl @vixen-uchiha @mewwitch @my-name-is-michell @imfreakingmagical @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @constancetruggle @kae690 @resignedcatservant @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @drama-queen-supreme @derpingrainbow @captainmac6 @k-rena-k @lunar-wolf-warrior @friedchickening @fandomfan315 @fanboy7794 @yin-390 @unholykrow @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @ayuchan07 @seraphichana @justanothersepticeyefan @politelyvicious @roseinbloom02 @uncompressed-boi @cadencehood @kaleigh-girlonfire

[lonely-full-of-secrets]

Mutual Friends (Archie x Jones!Reader)

Word Count: 3613

Warnings: none i think

Request: “If your taking request can you do an Archie Andrews x Reader where the reader is Jughead's twin sister and is secretly dating Archie behind her brother's back and when Jug finds out he and Archie fight and the reader has to stop them. If you do this thanks” -Anon

A/n: I really loved writing this so thank you so much for requesting it. It really got away from me with the word count, it was originally going to be much shorter. I also changed up the ending a bit but i still really hope you like it, I haven’t written in a while so i might be rusty. either way enjoy!

Masterlist Link in Bio

Every first Friday night of the month was movie night with you, your twin brother Jughead and his best friends Archie and Betty. They were your friends too but they were more Jughead’s friends. Besides, you had other friends as well so it didn’t bother you.

It had been like that for several years. Either the four of you would gather at the Twilight Drive In, huddled in a pile of blankets and pillows in the bed of Archie’s dad’s truck, or you would go to Betty’s house to watch movies where her mother could keep a watchful eye on her.

Sometimes others like Kevin or Reggie would join in as well but it was always the four of you there at the very least. Only now things are different. With Veronica moving to town and becoming best friend’s with Betty, the group dynamics have gotten scattered. Priorities have also changed. Especially since Betty and your brother started dating.

At first it was weird because they have been friends since forever and suddenly they had feelings for each other that were not there before. It often made you feel like a third wheel despite Archie being there too.

Archie didn’t seem to mind the change, he actually fit in with them quite well. He was happy for his two best friends. He did however try to keep you included in conversations and activities when you just didn’t know what to say or do. Archie was like that, such a sweetheart to everybody. It was nice since your brother certainly wasn’t doing anything to make you feel welcomed.

The thing with you and Jughead was that even though you were twins and were very much alike in so many ways, you were also very different. You both prefer to be alone, are extremely sarcastic, and have a knack for writing, but Jughead is stubborn and set in his ways much like your dad while you were more passive and logical. You know he loves you, you are his twin after all but he isn’t the most perceptive person around. He can often be inconsiderate, especially when it comes to other people’s feelings.

So when the day came in which Jughead and Betty never showed up to the drive in movie the four of you had planned on watching, it didn’t surprise you. It still pissed you off though. Archie had swung by your trailer to pick you up since Jughead had messaged you saying that he and Betty were going to go in her mom’s car.

It was just you and Archie in the bed of the truck sitting side by side. It wasn’t wierd or anything, the two of you were friends. You’ve sat next to Archie and joked with him plenty of times. Only now, it was just the two of you. You have never hung out with him on your own and for some reason you couldn’t shake this weird feeling in your gut.

The movie was about to start and neither Betty or Jughead had messaged to explain why they were late or to cancel. You were annoyed that they didn’t even send so much as an apology text. You huffed, “I didn’t even want to watch this stupid movie. Jughead is the one who picked it.”

Archie frowned, “Me neither. I haven’t had a chance to hang out with him in a while. Between being a Serpent, writing for the Blue and Gold and dating Betty, it doesn’t leave him very much free time.”

You understood exactly how he felt. You haven’t seen much of your brother either. Not even at home. He seems to be blowing you and Archie off a lot lately. “What an asshole” you mumble staring off ahead of you.

This makes Archie chuckle and you turn to look at him. “I’m so glad you said it. I didn’t want to make it weird incase you didn’t think so too.”

You smiled, “Well, at least we can agree on something.” After a moment of silence you add, “Can you take me home?” What was the point in being there if neither of you were interested in the movie? Of course there wasn’t one.

“Of course” he said and as you were about to get up he added, “or we can grab a bite to eat at Pop’s” he shrugged like it was no big deal. “I was planning on going after the movie anyway and I would hate to go in alone.” He had a hopeful smile on his face.

You thought about it for a second. There was nothing wrong with hanging out with your brother’s best friend, right? No of course not. He did just blow both of you off. Plus, you were hungry. “As long as you’re buying” you challenged.

His smile grew even wider. “Let’s go then.”

About fifteen minutes later you were situated in a booth across from Archie at Pop Tate’s Chock Lit Shoppe. While you waited for your food to arrive you talk about Jughead and all his odd quirks. It was quite amusing to be able to joke about them with someone who probably knew just about as much as you did about Jughead.

In the middle of eating and laughing you both receive messages from both Betty and Jughead saying they got caught up with an article at the Blue and Gold about the Serpents.

“Well at least we now know what happened to them.” Archie looked up at you from his phone to see you frowning. “Y/n?”

You sighed and looked him in the eye, “When we were kids, me and Juggie promised we would never join dad’s gang. As much as we love dad, it just wasn’t what we wanted for our futures, we wanted to get out of this town and make a living elsewhere but…” you looked down at your hands. You were still clearly upset by his choice. But that’s the thing, it was Jughead’s choice. He chose to go back on that promise and that hurt more than if your dad would have forced him into joining the Serpents.

“But he joined the Serpents anyway…” Archie finished for you and you nodded.

“Yeah, that sucked.” It was weird. You never shared that with anyone but with Archie, it just came out.

You watched as you swirled the straw in your cup around a few times before Archie spoke again. “I can only imagine how hard things have been for you since then.” He paused and you looked up from your cup and made eye contact with him. “Even though you know they didn’t mean to hurt you, you can’t help but feel betrayed.” Archie said with a sympathetic smile.  

That was exactly how you felt, betrayed. You don’t know if Jughead even remembered making that promise but you sure did and it hurt so much when he broke it. “Is that how you felt when your parents got divorced?” you asked. You knew there must be a reason for him to understand exactly how you felt.

He nodded, “And when my mom left town. It was tough but I got through it thanks to Jughead.” He smiled to himself, “Maybe you just need a friend to be there for you. Have you talked to Betty lately?”

“Not as much since she started dating Jughead.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Why?”

You laugh dryly, “You mean besides the fact that I can’t even girl talk with Betty anymore since the guy she’s hooking up with is my brother?” You raise your eyebrows questioningly. He scrunched up his face as he thought about it from your perspective.  “I’m glad she met Veronica. Now she has someone to talk about that with because I really don’t want to hear about it.”

The silence is awkward for a few seconds but soon you two find yourselves talking about random things again and laughing at each other’s jokes. You two get to know each other better and find that you actually have a lot in common. You never really thought about Archie and you being close but now you can’t help thinking that you want to learn more about him.

Archie knows you like to write, same as Jughead. But he doesn’t actually know what you write about. You are are always hesitant to let anyone read your writing. Especially Jughead. But for some reason when Archie brings it up, you can’t help but want Archie to read something you’ve written.

You are still hesitant but when Archie says that you don’t have to show him if it makes you uncomfortable, it pushes away any lingering doubt you had. He didn’t push you to show him like everybody else does. He respected your decision.

You pull out your phone and when you find something short that you are willing to share you hand Archie your phone and wait with bated breath for him to finish.

When he does he looks over to you with a blank expression. He didn’t say anything as he slid your phone back to you face down. You immediately started doubting your writing abilities. Maybe he didn’t like it?

Just before your mind went too far into that dark place Archie broke out into a huge grin. “Y/n that was incredible. I’ve never read anything quite like it. You have real talent, you really do.”

That comment makes your heart skip a beat. It really wasn’t the response you’d thought you’d get. “You scared me,” you say as you threw one of your french fries at him. It bounced off his chest and slid down and fell under the table.

He gives you a playful glare, “That was a perfectly good fry. What would Jughead say about you wasting food?”

This made you smile, “Well, Jughead’s not here is he? He won’t know unless you tell him. So…” you give him a challenging look, “are you going to tell him?” You picked up your glass and licked your lips before placing the straw in your mouth to take a sip of your drink.

Archie laughed, “I won’t tell him… if you help me finish writing one of my songs.”

You raised your eyebrows in disbelief. Archie Andrews asking for help, with his music no less. There is something you didn’t see coming. “Me?”

“Come on, you certainly have a way with words and I’ve been stuck on this song for weeks. Please?” He gave you his signature puppy dog look. How can anyone say no his bright pleading eyes?

You couldn’t help but feel your face heat up at his stare, yet you loved it, “Never pegged you as someone that would resort to blackmail Andrews.”

He leans into the table with his arms crossed and looks down. He was thinking about how to respond. “How about I show you the song and you can decide if you want to help me with it? How does that sound?”

Again, with those puppy dog eyes that just melted your heart. “Better.”

“Great” Archie says a bit too enthusiastically. “I can’t wait to show you my guitar.”

“Is that a euphemism?” you ask with a sly grin on your face.

Archie Andrews blushed, actually blushed. That was the first time you had ever seen it and you desperately wanted to see it again.

After Archie paid for dinner the two of you made your way to Archie’s house. You’d been there plenty of times as a kid with Jughead but never as a teenager and definitely never without your brother. Guess there are firsts for everything.

The ride over to his house was filled with flirty remarks and cute banter. Anything to get him to blush again. Although he did manage to get you flustered a couple of times too.

When you get there he takes you straight to his garage which his dad made into a makeshift music studio for Archie. You loved it, it was so inviting and cozy. He invited you to take a seat while he played for you.

The song started and right away you felt the emotions of it in your very soul. It was beautifully played, the lyrics were amazing as well but you could definitely hear where he needed the help as some of the lyrics didn’t flow as well with the rest of the song.

“Wow. Archie… that was” you clutch your chest with your hands above your heart, “that was beautiful. Where did,” as you were praising him on his song he surprises you by bringing his lips down to yours.

At first you were so shocked you didn’t know how to respond. He quickly backed off apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

You found yourself saying, “It’s okay.” You licked your lips and pressed them together. “But I am curious. Why did you kiss me?” Not that you minded. It felt good and more, you actually liked it.

He thought about it for a second, “I don’t know. I guess I got caught up in the moment. It just seemed like the right thing to do.”  You hadn’t said anything yet. You were still processing it all. “Hearing this out loud now it just sounds wrong. Again, Y/n I'm so sorry.”

You stepped closer to him, “I told you it’s fine. I actually kind of liked it” you feel the heat rise in your cheeks at your admission.

He smiled shyly and asked, “Really?”

You nodded not trusting your voice.

Archie chuckled, “So do you think I can take you out sometime?”

You smirk. “I thought you just did.”

You stay over a bit longer and just chatted about music and whatever else you can think of.

After Archie pulls up to your place he asks if he can kiss you again. You smile and unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over and give him a soft chaste kiss. “I’ll be expecting that date real soon.”

“Goodnight Y/n”

“Night” you wink at him before you leave the truck. You wave him off then make your way inside once he’s gone, with a goofy smile on your face. Who would have ever thought, you and Archie liking each other? Certainly not you.

But your smile is quickly replaced by a yelp when you hear a gruff “Does Jughead know?”

It was your dad. He scared you, he wasn’t supposed to be home yet.

You gulped. What if Jughead doesn’t like the idea of his best friend and his sister? What if things don’t actually work out with you and Archie? You don’t want them to break up their friendship over something that is not a for sure thing yet. “No and please don’t tell him. I want to see where this goes first.”

He squinted his eyes at you considering his response carefully “Fine.” He pointed at you as he added, “But don’t be surprised when this blows up in your face. You know how Jughead is.”

You knew your dad was right. Jughead was way too protective of you and not to mention unpredictable. But surely he would trust his best friend enough to let him date you, right?

“Yes dad, I know.”

He shrugged and walked into the living room with a beer in hand.

You knew you should have told your brother sooner but you were just enjoying your time with just Archie. Your little love bubble. For the first time in a long time you were happy despite you both having to hide your relationship from Jughead. But he had to find out sooner or later. In this case, it was later.

After a few weeks, Jughead was growing suspicious. You were always smiling at your phone but refused to tell him what it was about. He also noticed that Archie was happier but he wouldn’t tell him anything either. It never occurred to him that you two were sneaking around with each other. Nope not possible, you would never do that to him.

Until one day Archie was supposed to pick you up for a date after Jughead left but little did you know that he forgot his wallet and was making his way back to your trailer to retrieve it.

So when Archie pulled up and got out of his truck Jughead didn't really think anything of it. But he still wondered what his best friend was doing there. Except, you came out of your home and made your way towards Archie. That was weird. You two aren't really friends. Jughead stopped his walk towards you in confusion.

But then you wrapped your arms around Archie’s neck and kissed him. The blood drained from his face. “What the hell...” This could not be happening. How dare Archie kiss his little sister. How did this happen? When did this happen?

After recovering from his confusion, Jughead’s anger slowing starting to simmer deep in his gut. It only got worse when Archie’s hands traveled down from your hips to squeeze your butt. That is when Jughead finally lost it.

One second you were kissing your boyfriend and giggling and the next you were forced apart by sheer force.

Oh shit you thought… the look on Jughead’s face was murderous. He didn’t even look at you. His rage was aimed at Archie.

“Really dude? My sister? That’s who you been sneaking around with?”

Archie looked guilty, as did you. You never wanted for Jughead to find out this way.

“Jughead please. I can explain” you plead but he just ignores you.

“Look, we knew you’d react this way. So we didn’t tell you right away” Archie defended himself, taking a step back when Jughead took a menacing step closer to him.

“Or at all.” Jughead seethed, “You don’t deserve her” the words that fell from Jughead’s lips quickly flipped the tables.

Archie got right up in Jughead’s face and shoved him back almost making him stumble with the unexpected force, “I don’t deserve her?” He pushed Jughead back with every sentence he spit out. “I spend time with her. I listen to her. I make her laugh when she’s feeling down. I give her the attention she deserves. When was the last time you’ve even bothered to have a decent conversation with her that wasn’t in passing?”

Jughead was still pissed, his chest visibly rising and falling with each breath. But he was stunned into silence. He was so caught up in his own life that he forgot all about is sister. His twin sister. He should have known something was more than just off with her. He hadn’t seen much of her in so long but he never questioned why.

He looked at you and walked towards you. Archie tried to step in front of you but with one look you nodded you head and he knew you’d be okay so he took a step back.

Much like any twins you’ve ever read about, you and Jughead didn’t need words to communicate. You two just always knew what the other was thinking. So you knew that as Jughead stood in front of you he having an internal debate with himself.

He didn’t know where to start but he swallowed his anger, “I’m sorry, Y/n.” He opened up his arms knowing you’d make up and hug. You quickly smiled back and accepted his embrace. You never could stay completely mad at him for very long.

Once you pull apart you say, “I know. I’m sorry too. We should have told you.”

“Better late than never I guess.”

You roll your eyes at your brother’s comment. “Now, I think there is someone else you need to apologize to.” You tilt your head in Archie’s direction.

“Right.” Jughead looked you right in the eye and whispered only to you, “Does he make you happy?”

You nodded and smiled happily, “Very.”

He sighed and finally turned to Archie while still keeping an arm over your shoulder. “I’m sorry Arch. I know I haven’t been a very good friend,” he looks down to you too, “to either of you. But I am glad you two were there for each other when I wasn’t.” He pulls Archie into his other arm.

“Well if I’m being honest, me and Y/n probably would never have gotten together if it wasn’t for you.”

You snort and see Jughead is trying to hide his grin. “Y/n please tell you boyfriend I can still kick his ass if I wanted to.”

You remove Jughead’s arm from your shoulders and go to hug Archie and pout, “No. That’s enough violence for one day. Plus we’re late for our date. So, if you don’t mind, we’re leaving” you say while sticking your tongue out at your brother and walk towards the truck.

Jughead yelled, “There’s always tomorrow.” You flipped him off and got into the truck.

Then before driving off you rolled the window down and shouted to your brother, “Don’t wait up” and Jughead’s smile quickly vanished.

You laughed and Archie took your hand in his, “That went better than we expected.” You hummed in agreement.

After a moment of silence Archie asked, “Do you really think he’ll kick my ass?” This was starting to become a real fear. Jughead might not be as strong as Archie but who knows what he’s capable of. That boy is a wildcard.

You smiled up at him, “No, he’s just playing up the protective brother thing.” Archie let out a breath in relief, he hadn’t realized he was holding one in. “But the moment he finds out we’ve slept together… he’s totally kicking your ass.”

[quicksilversquared]

Pictures on the Wall

It started as a tickle of a thought in Alix Kubdel's mind- wouldn't it be funny to plaster Marinette's room in pictures of her crush?

She didn't expect a TV crew to show Marinette's room on TV before her friend could fully finish cleaning the room up.

(Troublemaker fix-it/AKA why Marinette has So. Many. Pictures. on the wall)

(FF.net) (AO3)

It started out as a tickle of a thought in the back of Alix Kubdel's mind. She snickered briefly at it and then refocused on her homework, re-reading a passage for French Lit.

But the idea was not forgotten. Not fully, at least.

"I don't think he's capable of taking a bad photo," Marinette said dreamily the next day as their little group of girls sat together during a break between classes. She was staring at a page in a fashion magazine. Alix didn't have to be a genius to deduce that Marinette was talking about Adrien yet again. "He's just so-"

"I'm pretty sure that his father and the photographer probably weed out any photos that aren't great," Alix told her, cutting Marinette off before she could finish her sentence. She really didn't need to hear about how dreamy or handsome or bla bla bla Adrien was another time. Ever since Marinette and Alya had decided to "let her in" on the "secret" of Marinette's crush on Adrien (it wasn't a secret. It really wasn't. Even Kim had caught on ages ago, which said something about how obvious Marinette was), she had had to hear Marinette's gushing.

(Alix was starting to think that Alya had only pushed to let the other girls in on the 'secret' so that she wouldn't have to put up with the Adrien-talk by herself. As much as it could annoy her, Alix couldn't really blame Alya for that.)

Besides, Adrien was hardly dreamy and cool all the time Anyone who believed that believed in a lie, because Adrien was a giant dork. Anyone who spent more than a few minutes with him knew that much. It was hard to keep a straight face around Marinette's dreamy sighs over Adrien when Alix had seen him fighting to keep a pencil balanced on his nose longer than Nino earlier in the day and pouting when he lost, or when she had spotted him making outrageous hair styles with his ridiculously long hair.

(Despite what Marinette said about Adrien being able to pull off any look, Alix knew better. Adrien could not pull off a mohawk. It just... no.)

Still, Marinette was stubbornly shaking her head. "I bet they only have to choose between great photos! He does a great job with his modeling-"

And Alix tuned her out, mind churning deviously as the others discussed ideas for having Marinette ask Adrien out.

Surely there had to be some awkward photos of Adrien out there, considering how much of a following he had in Paris and how many photos got snapped of him on a daily basis. And some of his fans would post any photos of him, even bad ones, just to prove that they had seen him.

Alix decided to make it her personal mission to track all of those photos down to bury Marinette under them. And what she found made her very, very happy.

There were so many photos of Adrien looking supremely uncomfortable as he was pulled into a selfie with one fan or another (those got cropped so Adrien's ridiculous expressions filled the whole screen). There were photos of him dashing down the street away from fans, photos of him laughing with friends, photos of him with his bodyguard and Nathalie, photos of photoshoots but from another angle, photos of him getting photoshoot makeup touched up, photos of him messing around and purposefully pulling weird faces.

In short, there were a lot of photos. Not all of them were good. Alix cackled as she printed them all off and stuck them in a folder to bring to school. She would have to spring them on Marinette when Adrien wasn't anywhere in the vicinity or else face the combined wrath of Alya and Marinette (which she was not willing to do), but she was sure that that wouldn't be that difficult.

She wasn't expecting Alya to intercept her first.

"Oh, you should put those up in Marinette's room and see how long it takes for her to notice," Alya's voice said with a snicker several minutes before homeroom started. Alix jumped and spun around, abruptly abandoning her conversation with Kim. Alya stood there, perusing Alix's folder of ridiculous Adrien photos. How she had snuck up completely undetected was... well, it was very Alya. "I bet it would take her a while to notice."

Alix snickered at the suggestion, remembering her original idea of absolutely plastering Marinette's room in Adrien photos. It would be a good way to tease her about her crush a little bit while maybe helping her realize that she should calm down about having pictures of Adrien up everywhere. "Or I can mix in actual decent photos with these and then stick them in all sorts of weird places."

Alya grinned. "Such as...?"

"On the walls, under her bed, in the desk drawers..." Alix added, that original funny idea coming back full-force. She grinned, then glanced towards Marinette's normal seat. It was empty, as was Adrien's seat up front. "Where is Marinette, anyway? She's running late again."

Alya threw a look over her shoulder and then shrugged. "Who knows. But that gives us time to plot." Without waiting for further answer, she slid onto the bench next to Alix. "So, show me what you have!"

It wasn't difficult to find a time to sneak into Marinette's room when Marinette herself wasn't there. It was difficult to find places to put all of the photos they had dragged up.

And there were a lot. Along with the less-than-good photos, Alya had dragged up a whole slew of photos from old magazine ads Adrien had done, as well as screenshots from some of his commercials. Alix was a bit worried that the poster putty she had brought wouldn't be enough.

"At least her desktop picture isn't so awful anymore," Alix commented as she reached over the computer to attach one of the pictures on the wall behind it. "That was...yikes."

"I think she changed it when Adrien came over to play Mega Strike," Alya told her. She handed Alix a smaller photo to hang next. "And then she went with an, uh, unaltered photo next, after he left. I don't remember if she lost the collage one somehow or what."

"Good riddance to that one," Alix muttered. She clambered off of Marinette's desk, making sure to replace everything on it where it had been. "Okay, where should that next poster go?"

Half an hour later, Marinette's room was thoroughly decorated and she and Alya were puzzling over what to do with the leftover pictures.

"We can't put them too high, or Marinette won't be able to get them down again," Alya said. She flipped over a particularly bad photo of Adrien doing what appeared to be a Vulcan salute. Alix had maybe done a teensy bit of Photoshop on it to make an already pretty bad picture worse (and to get rid of the "fan" who, in Adrien's defense, looked slightly unhinged), and she was...well, a bit creeped out by the result would be the most accurate description. "Where did you find this?"

"Photoshop."

Alya snorted in amusement. "Oh, gosh. Okay, let's stick these under Marinette's bed and on the underside of her chaise and see how long it takes for her to notice. There's no point in wasting a perfectly good picture."

"Or a perfectly awful photo." Alix made another face at the Vulcan salute photo and then handed it to Alya to take. "Okay, yeah, good idea."

It didn't take long to stash away the rest of the photos and get the rest of their mess cleaned up so that they could go. Alya led the way towards Marinette's trapdoor, opening it and starting to climb down.

Alix paused, turning to look back at the room one last time. An inkling of doubt crept up her spine. "You're sure there's no way that Adrien would see this? He wouldn't come over to play video games again before Marinette can clean up?"

Alya shook her head. "Nah, he wouldn't come over out of the blue. And you know he would never go into Marinette's room without her permission, and she would want to clean up her normal posters before letting him up. Believe me, it'll be fine."

  "I hate you," Marinette announced the next day at school as soon as she saw Alya. She was pouting. "Very funny."

Alya tried not to grin. "It was Alix's idea first. She helped me."

"I hate you both."

  "Aren't you going to take the pictures down?"

Marinette glanced up from her homework at Tikki. "Hmm?"

Tikki pointed to the pictures covering all of Marinette's walls. "The pictures! Shouldn't you take them down?" She frowned at Marinette. "You aren't thinking of leaving them up, are you? Marinette..."

"I'll take them down, just not right now," Marinette said, turning back to her homework. "I just don't have the time! I'm really behind on my schoolwork, thanks to all of the akumas we've had, and I shouldn't prioritize cleaning photos off of my walls over that."

"Oh, that's smart." A pause. "But you'll take care of it soon, right?"

"Of course!"

  "Marinette, about these pictures..."

Marinette shook her head, eyes not leaving the computer screen in front of her as she typed. "This is due tomorrow. I'm already on thin enough ice with Madam Mendeleiev, I can't possibly ask for an extension for no apparent reason. It'll have to wait."

Tikki considered the wall. "Can I take some of them down? The really awkward ones?"

"Sure, I guess."

Tikki worked her way around the room, removing the worst of the photos from the wall. It was slow work, mostly because she had to remove the poster putty from the wall as she removed things, and she didn't want to accidentally leave any marks like she and Marinette had in their frantic tearing-down of posters when Adrien visited. Once she was done, there were still a lot of photos, but at least they were mostly normal.

Hopefully Marinette would have a spare hour soon to finish returning her room to its normal state.

  "Marinette, are you going to take the photos down today?"

Marinette paused with one foot out the door. "I can't! I told Maman that I would help down in the bakery. Tomorrow, for sure!"

  Marinette had pulled three large photos down when her phone rang with an akuma alarm. Sighing, she tossed the picture in her recycling without a second glance (she was never going to mention how photogenic Adrien was within Alix's hearing range ever, ever again- where the other girl had found such awful photos she had no idea) and raced up to her balcony to transform.

  "About those photos-"

"Still behind!"

  "Can I take more photos down?"

Marinette glanced up from her Physics homework. "Yeah, I guess? Just don't do this area, I don't want to get distracted."

Tikki frowned. "Marinette, I'll have to take down those photos sometime. Can't you work somewhere else? Downstairs, maybe?"

"I'll do it this weekend, after the Jagged TV thing," Marinette promised. "But for right now, I can't. I need to use my computer for this assignment."

  Alix stared at her TV in horror. There, in full color on the screen, was Marinette's room.

And Marinette's wall.

And a number of the pictures of Adrien that she and Alya had put up two weeks prior.

And Jagged Stone was pointing to them and the camera was focusing on them, bringing them up full-screen.

"She didn't take them down?" Alix exclaimed, fingers clutching at her hair. How? Why? Sure, Marinette had mentioned being crazy busy and really behind after spending time working on a sewing project instead of doing her homework, but surely she could have spared a couple minutes to clear her walls.

At least it looked like she had gotten the purposefully bad photos down, and most of the room was largely free of pictures. It was just that corner of the room, really-

-but that one corner was really bad. Like, it was plastered with pictures, from desk to ceiling.

This was bad.

Her phone rang, and Alix scrambled to answer it. "Hello?"

"We gotta fix this," Alya said, sounding panicked. "Oh, gosh. I never thought- no one else was meant to see that! At least it wasn't her entire room, but- Adrien's gonna be so weirded out, and it won't even be her fault."

"Maybe we can text him?" Alix suggested. "Let him know that it was part of a prank? Even if half of those photos were Marinette's anyway." It would be their apology to Marinette if they did that, she figured. Everyone else would forget about the photos after a few weeks, but Adrien wouldn't, and Marinette would probably flounder through an explanation too badly to be any use if Adrien approached her with any questions. "Should we text him now, or wait until school tomorrow?"

"Do you think we can get to him before he spots Marinette?" Alya asked, not even waiting for Alix to answer before she plowed on. "I think it would be hard to explain anything over text, personally, but- oh! I could call him, hang on-"

The line abruptly went dead and Alix flopped back in her seat, watching the screen. Marinette had chased the cameras out of her room- and Alix had to give her props for how composed she was keeping herself while surely embarrassed beyond belief, and she was ordering Jagged Stone and Alec around too, and they were celebrities- and now Tom and Sabine were trying to shoo the crew out completely, except some strange stuff seemed to be happening.

Like, mega-strange stuff.

Alya called Alix back a minute later, once it had been confirmed that there was an akuma at the bakery- and poor Marinette, she must be having an awful day- and Alya sounded frantic. "He's not answering his phone. I tried calling three times and nothing."

"Maybe the pretty boy is busy and missed the show?" Alix suggested. "You could ask Nino."

"Nino is out of town this weekend. He won't be back until Monday." Alya groaned. "Oh, this is such a mess."

"Maybe we can just wait until Monday?" Alix suggested as she watched Chat Noir get flung into a news van on-screen. "I mean, Adrien is always early and Marinette is almost always running in last-minute anyway. Surely we can catch him before Marinette gets there."

"Sounds like a plan," Alya agreed. "So, any ideas for excuses as to why we covered Marinette's room in pictures of Adrien?"

  Adrien wasn't in the classroom. It was three minutes to the bell, and Adrien wasn't in the classroom yet.

Alix was starting to get concerned. How were they meant to corner Adrien and give their excuses if the boy was MIA?

And then, a minute before the bell, Adrien slipped through the door and into his seat. Marinette followed forty-five seconds later.

There was no way they hadn't run into each other in the locker room. Alix hoped that Marinette hadn't said anything too strange to him. If she had, all the excuses in the world from Alix and Alya wouldn't help anything.

They cornered Adrien in their next break between classes.

"Hey, you two, what's up?" Adrien asked. He looked a little puzzled about being cornered, but it only barely showed. "I saw you tried to call me yesterday, Alya- sorry I didn't pick up, I was busy."

"You're always busy, we're used to that," Alya said cheerfully, waving it off. "But, uh, we wanted to talk to you about something- well, admit something, rather- anyway, did you see the Jagged Stone show yesterday?"

Alix tried not to snort. For a moment there, Alya had sounded rather like Marinette trying to talk to Adrien.

"I did," Adrien told them, grinning. "Jagged looked like a ghost with the flour all over him, didn't he? I'm glad Tom and Sabine were willing to kick them out, though. They didn't have to go all the way upstairs."

Alix winced. "So you saw that part, huh?"

Adrien's answering nod was so slight that it would have been easy to miss it.

"The wall of photos was actually our fault," Alya admitted. "We put it up as a joke- we hid photos all over her room, actually, we should probably actually tell Marinette about that, if she hadn't found those- and she's apparently been too busy to get it all cleaned up."

Adrien looked puzzled. "Wait, that was you guys? Then why didn't Marinette just say so? And why pictures of me?"

Alix and Alya exchanged a surprised look. Apparently Marinette and Adrien had already talked, and Marinette hadn't made a complete mess of it.

Maybe they should have talked to Marinette to see what she had told him first.

"Maybe she just didn't want to explain the prank?" Alya suggested after another couple beats. "A-and it was pictures of you because of, y'know, the fashion thing, and it's really easy to find pictures of you. It wasn't anything bad at all, I swear."

Adrien huffed out a small laugh at that. "It is easy to find pictures of me, isn't it? It's a bit annoying at times. But I guess it saves my father from having to take photos of me growing up himself." He shrugged. "But thanks, I guess? That would explain why some of the photos weren't from any of my photoshoots. I did wonder."

"Heh heh yeah, that was us." Alya flashed a too-wide smile. "It was just a bit of fun, y'know? We wouldn't have done it if we knew it was going to get onto TV."

"Right, I figured." Adrien glanced over to where Nino and Max were talking. "Thanks for telling me, I guess. See you in class?"

"Of course," Alya and Alix said in near unison as Adrien waved to them and left. They both let out a sigh relief as soon as he was out of earshot and then dissolved into giddy giggles.

"Well, that was easier than I thought it would be," Alya said a bit breathlessly as they recovered. "He kind of accepts any excuse, doesn't he? He probably made it really easy for Marinette to come up with something."

"Hey, I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth." Alix started walking towards their next class, and Alya followed. "Adrien listened to us, and apparently Marinette managed to get some coherent sentences out around him earlier, so that's a win. And Jagged and his crew didn't manage to, say, upend the chaise and scatter photos all over on live TV, so win there too, I guess."

They walked in silence for a few moments.

"So d'you think you could make it over to Marinette's house after school today?" Alya asked as they joined the group of students heading into Madam Mendeleiev's classroom. "To help Marinette take down posters and clean up all of the photos we hid? I feel like we kind of owe it to her to help."

Alix winced. She had been planning on practicing her roller-skating sprints, but yeah, they did kind of owe it to Marinette. She had probably already spent enough time taking stuff down already, and Alya might not be able to remember all the places where they hid photos away.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be there."

[fanforthefics]

A Step Too Far

Geno pranks Sid. It...doesn’t go as planned. 

For the @sidgeno-fluff-fest prompt: comfort items. Not quite comfort, but it sort of centers around an item, at least? Comes in at about 8k. 

tw: bullying (sort of, depending on your POV)

Sid’s still talking.

He’s telling the story of some WWII pilot or something—he’s talking too fast for Geno to catch all of it—and he has been for the past ten minutes. It’s gotten bad enough that everyone other than Jake has started glazing over or has escaped to the bar, and Jake’s only still listening because he still has that hero worship thing going on.

Geno wasn’t paying attention that the beginning, to be honest—he was usually pretty good at figuring out when Sid actually cared if he paid attention or when he just wanted someone to nod as he talked at him—but it’s getting ridiculous. Sid is so intense even about this, talking a mile a minute with his whole face lit up even in the dim light of the bar, his fingers running over his chain like he can’t keep still. It’s at least distracting, watching that—Sid’s fingers and the chain, how the gold slips over his blunt, strong fingers.

Geno blinks. Sid’s still talking. He thinks there are submarines involved now? He’s not sure. Sid’s talking and he’s apparently noticed no one but Jake is really paying attention, because he’s reoriented himself from the table at large to mainly Jake.

“Yes, we get,” Geno breaks in, as Sid takes a breath. He’s taking one for the team, he decides, and that’s backed up by the thankful looks Flower and Tanger give him. “You big nerd, nothing new.” Sid’s head jerks to Geno. Geno smiles at him, all teeth. “Let talk about interesting things now.”

Sid grins, and laughs back. He’s always been able to laugh at himself; it’s one of the things Geno finds most endearing about him. Without that, he’s sometimes thought—usually when Sid was at his most stubborn and irritating—he’d be insufferable. With it, well. It made it easy to tease him. “I’m sorry I like to educate myself,” Sid retorts. He rubs the chain between his thumb and forefinger.

“Educate yourself, fine. Educate all of us…Maybe should quit hockey, be teacher?” Sid makes a face. “Then kids have to listen.”

“You’re free to leave,” Sid retorts.

Geno gestures to wear he’s pinned in by Sid on one side and the wall on the other. “Sorry, ass too big. Got me captured.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Sid snaps, but he’s chuckling as he rolls his eyes. “You want out?”

Geno makes an exaggerated frown. “No use. Trapped here forever.”

“Maybe we can use that on the ice,” Tanger inserts. Geno glances across the table to wear Flower and Tanger are sitting, watching Sid with judgmental eyes. And maybe Geno too, but Geno knows them. Neither of them will miss an opportunity to give Sid shit either. “Trap Giroux in a corner with your ass.”

“Giroux? Think too small, Tanger.” Geno eyes Sid, who’s turning a little red but he’s smiling too, taking it in good sport. “Weber at least. Chara, maybe.”

“Sid wishes he could trap Weber with his ass,” Flower throws in, and Sid goes a bit redder. His fingers have slowed on the chain, now; they’re resting close to his chest, where his shirt is gaping open just a little.

“You guys can all fuck off,” Sid tells them. He’s always the least creative with his chirps. Then his lips curl into a smirk. “Anyway, Shea wishes I would trap him with my ass.”

“Ooh!” Tanger cheers, and Flower toasts Sid with his beer. Jake’s just watching them all with wide eyes, because it always takes a while for rookies to understand that Sid’s actually the dorkiest person ever and isn’t whatever hero they’ve been hearing about since they were born.

Sid’s still smirking. Geno wonders—he knows he and Weber are friends, they were roommates at the Olympics, they still hang out whenever they play each other. Sid…

“Is okay,” Geno says, patting Sid on the head in the way he knows Sid hates because it makes him feel short. Sure enough, Sid glares up at him. “Good to have dreams. Even if Weber, dream little small.”

“Oh?” Sid’s still glaring, but he’s got that tilt to his head that says he’s enjoying it too. His hands are on the chain again, idly stroking it. It’s almost a little obscene. “Isn’t Shea bigger than you?”

“No,” Geno mutters. “I’m definitely taller.”

“We can check,” Tanger suggests, going for his phone. That’s really not necessary, Geno thinks; he’s pretty sure he’s taller than Weber. Or maybe Weber just lied more on his stats.

“No, don’t think so.”

“Yeah, let’s,” Flower agrees, because all French Canadians are equal opportunity shit-stirrers. Geno glares, and Flower gives him his most innocent look. “What? I want to know for next year’s fantasy team.”

“You think you pick me, you crazier than I’m think.”

“Hey, did you see the Habs game last night?” Tanger puts in, still looking at his phone. “Looks like Shea did well.”

“Yeah—it was great,” Sid agrees, leaning in like he always does when hockey comes up. It’s like everything in him just gets a little bit more when hockey is mentioned. It’s another one of those things that should be insufferable but isn’t. “Their penalty kill…”

Geno lets Sid start talking again, even if this time it’s on something that they’re all actually interested in. Apparently all the Habs had a good night; Geno is despite himself drawn into the discussion of the Habs’ prospects, because he likes a good hockey talk as much as the next guy on the team, as long as the next guy isn’t Sid.

He goes to take a sip of his drink, and finds to his surprise it’s empty. That won’t do. They don’t even have practice tomorrow; he needs more. “Sid.” He pushes at Sid’s shoulder. “More beer.”

“Get it yourself,” Sid retorts. “No,” he tells Jake, who had been asking about the points overlay. “It’s—”

“Siiid,” Geno interrupts. “Beer.”

Sid turns his whole body to look at Geno, his eyes drawing together a little. Geno stares back. They both know who’s going to win this, because they’ve been doing this since neither of them could technically get each other beers.  

“Fine.” Sid huffs out a breath, but he gets to his feet. He turns to the rest of the table. “Anyone else?”

“So nice of you to ask,” Flower says with a mischievous smile, and Sid rolls his eyes and pretends to listen to whatever ridiculous drink Flower is going to try to make him order.

“You’re all dicks,” Sid announces, and turns to go to the bar. He greets a few of their other teammates on the way, slapping some shoulders and stopping to talk to some others, making his captain rounds. It’s always amazing, Geno thinks, watching him go, that people think he’s a loner; Geno’s never seen anyone who makes friends as thoroughly as Sid, at least on any team he’s ever been on.

He draws his attention back to the table. Tanger’s taken over Sid’s explanation, and apparently for him it requires props, including but not limited to Geno’s empty beer mug, Flower’s hand, and the menu on the table.

It’s amusing to watch and heckle, enough that Geno doesn’t notice that he remains drinkless until it’s over.

Then he does, and he’s not amused. “What take Sid so long?” he asks. Sid’s usually pretty efficient about completing tasks, even if he can be too polite to edge himself up to bars.

Flower looks around, then he laughs. “I think he started to dream bigger,” he chuckles, and waves at a corner of the bar.

Sid’s leaning against the bar, so from the table they can see his face, but he’s not looking at them. He’s looking at the guy next to him at the bar, whose face Geno can’t see but he can see he’s tall and broad and has thick dark hair, and he’s closer to Sid than is normally acceptable. And Geno wouldn’t even need to see that; he can see how Sid’s oriented himself, how he’s looking up at the guy with that look of his that’s half coy and half a challenge and all trademarked Sidney Crosby intensity, how Sid’s playing with his necklace again but this time it’s less like he can’t sit still and more like he wants to draw attention to the chest showing at his collar, to the deftness of his fingers.

“Well damn,” Tanger lets out a low whistle. “Well done, Sid.”

Geno’s beer is sitting next to Sid’s elbow, forgotten. The guy is leaning in, using the inches he has on Sid to loom just enough that Sid’s flushing. Geno knows that lean. This guy’s not that good at it.

Sid’s chain is wrapped around his finger, and then he lets it fall.

“I’m have plan,” he decides, not looking at Sid anymore. “For prank, on Sid.”

“Okay.” Flower perks up.

“No, I don’t—I’m leaving!” Jake shoves back his chair. “Don’t make me part of this.”

Geno considers dragging him into it, because he needs to learn how to do pranks if he’s going to survive in this locker room, but the kid’s clearly a little tipsy and Geno doesn’t really trust him to keep a secret from Sid anyway. “Fine, go,” he allows, waving Jake away. Jake doesn’t wait for Geno to change his mind.

“Anyway,” Geno goes on. “I prank Sid.”

“Okay.” Tanger nods, and gestures for Geno to go on. “Just, don’t fuck with his game.”

“Of course not!” Geno’s not an idiot. “Not anything with routines. I’m think, take necklace.”

Flower’s eyebrows go all the way up, and he glances at Tanger. It’s not the reaction Geno was expecting. He’d thought it was a great idea. Watching Sid run around like a chicken with his head cut off was always funny. Messing with Sid was always funny, because he took it in good sport and recognized that it united the room and raised everyone’s morale when they got one over on the captain.

But, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Flower asks slowly.

“Yes! Will be funny.”

“He really likes his necklace,” Tanger points out. Geno’s noticed. Sid looks like he likes his necklace a lot like now, still doing that idle stroking thing as he talks to the guy.

“Yes, is why it is funny,” Geno explains slowly, in case something’s getting lost in translation. “I take, he look everywhere, I give back.”

They exchange that look again. They’re going to start talking in French soon, Geno can tell.

“You could figure out another prank,” Flower suggests. “I’ve got one I’ve been thinking of, with shaving cream—”

“No, my prank good,” Geno decides. The guy’s even closer now. Sid would just have to turn his hand to touch his chest. Geno’s beer is probably getting warm by now. “Is what he deserve, for forget our drinks.”

Tanger says something to Flower in French. Geno knew it.

“I’m get my own drink,” Geno tells them, and slides out of the booth. If Sid forgot about him, he can get it himself.

He’s at the bar when suddenly Sid is at his side, and Geno nearly jumps. He’d been very pointedly not looking at where Sid was flirting.

“Hey!” Sid grins, and he’s clearly amped from his flirting, flushed and enthusiastic with the attention. “What are you doing?”

Geno raises his eyebrows. “Think you forget about us. Need beer somehow.” Tall guy is still standing where Sid left them, and he’s very obviously watching Sid. Now that Geno can see his face, Geno can admit that he is hot. It’s not like he expected anything else. Sid occasionally does have taste in men, even if not in footwear.

“I was going to come back,” Sid tells him, but then he’s sliding the beer into Geno’s hand, and Flower’s drink at him on the bar. “Here, see?”

“Take you long enough,” Geno mutters, but he glances over Sid’s shoulder at the guy, not trying to be subtle. Sid grins, almost a smirk.

“Yeah, well. Got distracted.”

“Choose boy over teammates?” Geno tsks. “Bros before hos, Sidney. Know that.”

Sid chokes at that. Geno’s always been thankful for Talbo for making sure he learned the right English first. “That’s why I was coming back,” he repeats, and shoves at Geno’s shoulder. He means it, Geno can see. He’s going to come back with Geno, because Sid takes team bonding seriously. Maybe he doesn’t deserve Geno pranking him. It’s not like Geno hasn’t ditched teammates to flirt a little.

“Anyway,” Sid goes on, and he’s smirking again. “I got his number, so.”

No, Sid definitely deserves it. “Of course you get,” Geno tells Sid. “Now come, have to beat Horny in pool.”

“Geno!” Sid complains, but he lets Geno drag him away from the bar. “You know I suck at pool.”

“No, know you aren’t best at pool,” Geno corrects. “Not same thing.”

“Isn’t it?” Sid asks, grinning and Geno grins back. No one’s ever understood him quite like Sid.

///

In the end, it’s not a hard prank to pull off. Sid takes the chain off to shower, so Geno takes a quick shower after practice, gets back to the locker room well before Sidney, and swipes it from his stall. It’s still warm, as Geno puts it carefully in his stall, so he can keep an eye on it while he gets dressed.

Sidney comes in from the showers a few minutes later. Geno’s gotten his pants on, but he’s delaying finishing by chatting with Horny. Horny doesn’t know what’s happening, but he’s on a run about his daughter so Geno can zone out a little, watch over his shoulder as Sid comes in from the shower. He’s laughing with Tanger, his chest flushed from the shower and his smile on from a good practice to lead into the game tomorrow. Tanger says something, then whips a towel at him; Sid snorts and bats the towel away before he goes to his stall.

Geno puts his hand in his pocket, where the necklace is coiled. It feels smooth and warm against his fingers—maybe like it feels for Sid; lighter than his own but still solid.

Sid reaches, like he always does, for the chain—then stops. His eyes narrow. The smile drops from his face, as he looks around the rest of the stall. It makes a little noise; Tanger and Flower look at him, then at Geno with matched skeptical expressions. Geno keeps his face innocent.

“Okay,” Sid suddenly says, loud enough that it cuts through the chatter of the locker room. He’s turned from his stall, and is giving the room his most intimidating captain look. “Does anyone know where my necklace is?”

It gets a number of confused looks. Connor actually looks at his hands, like it might have materialized there.

“Maybe you lose?” Geno suggests, still innocent. Sid’s glare turns to him, but then it skates back to his stall.

“No, I put it right here, like I always do.” Sid gestures at his stall, a choppier movement than he usually uses. “I didn’t lose it.”

“You double check?” Geno suggests.

“Yes, of course I did.” Sid turns back to the stall to triple check, the tension tight in his base shoulders and back. “It’s not there!”

“Sure?” Geno asks again. He’s trying to sound helpful, but he’s much better at bullshitting in Russian.

“I’m—” Sid pauses, then turns to look at Geno. All his muscles are still taut, and his eyes are narrowed into his faceoff stare. “Geno.”

“What?” Geno asks, his most innocent face on. Everyone else seems to be catching on; there are some low murmurs and a few giggles.

“Geno,” Sid repeats evenly. “Give me my necklace.”

“I’m not have!” Geno insists.

Sid’s chest expands with a breath. “Geno,” Sid says one more time, flat. He’s focused everything on Geno; staring at him like the rest of the locker room has dropped away.

Geno lets himself smirk, and he draws his hand out of his pocket, the chain dangling from his fingers as he raises it to chest height. “Oh, you mean this necklace?”

There are a few more snorts, more giggles. Geno waits. This is where Sid rolls his eyes and calls him a fucker and punches him and threatens to get him back, where Sid laughs at how worked up he’d gotten about it, where he makes some joke thanking Geno for keeping it warm for Sid. Where maybe Sid grabs the nearest object to throw at him, and Geno will throw it back and laugh and maybe buy Sid a beer to make up for it so Sid’ll have to spend the next time they’re out at their table, playing with his chain as he rambles on to Geno.

Geno waits, the necklace hanging in front of him. Except—Sid’s staring at the chain, and he’s not smiling, not laughing.

His gaze darts to the side, then to Geno, then back to the chain, and then his chin goes up and he’s got his media face on, his Sidney-Crosby-after-a-bad-game ™ face on. “Thanks,” he says, short and humorless, snatches the necklace from Geno, and turns on his heel to stalk back to his stall.

The room’s silent. The low murmur of amusement is gone, and instead everyone’s either looking or very obviously not looking at Geno, at Sid’s set back as he gets quickly, efficiently changed, packs up his bag, and leaves. Tanger gives Geno a glare to echo Sid’s, then hurries after him.

Geno stares after Sid. Apparently Sid wasn’t in the right mood. Maybe he’ll need to buy him two beers.

He rubs his fingers together, remembering the feel of Sid’s chain between them.

///

Geno doesn’t hear from Sid the rest of the day. That’s not unusual—sometimes they text, sure, but they both do other things too. Geno thinks, vaguely, of texting first—just something so Sid knows that Geno didn’t mean anything by it—but Sid’s never needed that before. He knows that Geno only teases Sid so much because—well, he just always does. Because he likes Sid’s smile when he does, and his goofy laugh. Because Sid has a tendency to take himself too seriously if no one stops him. Because it’s what Geno does. So he doesn’t text first.

The next morning, he gets to morning skate on time for him, which is five minutes late for everyone else. He’s got it down to a science at this point, just how early he needs to get to practice to get on the ice on time. It’s not his fault that he can do it in less time than everyone else.

Everyone’s already there when he gets in, so the locker room is full of the normal bitching about mornings and good-natured challenges. Sid’s already there too, halfway to changed and pulling on his under armor shirt as he chats with Kuni.

Geno drops his bag loudly in his stall, and waits for the shit to start. Sid almost always likes to give him shit about getting in late, because he thinks that just because he drives like a grandpa everyone else does. Geno’s turning to him, ready with his normal retorts on his tongue—but Sid hasn’t looked at him. Sid’s still talking to Kuni, and Tanger’s joined them.

It’s not in itself odd. Sid doesn’t always give him shit for it. But Geno knows Sid too, and he knows the set of his shoulders and the tilt of his head, and he’s not just talking to someone else, he’s not looking at Geno.  

“Sid!” Geno says, loud enough that there’s no way he can pretend he didn’t hear. “Make me get up early, not bring coffee?”

Sid straightens, turns. His media face is back on, a smile like he gives to reporters, and nothing like the squinty eyed smile he gives to friends—to Geno. The chain hangs around his neck, barely visible under his shirt. “I couldn’t carry it for everyone, sorry,” he says coolly, and then turns back. Flower says something in French; Tanger laughs and Sid rolls his eyes and giggles like he usually does when anyone teases him.

Okay, so Sid’s mad. Geno’s not an idiot, he can tell that. Sid just needs to work it out. They always come together on the ice, and it’ll be fine.

Except it’s not. Sid spends all practice being perfectly himself with everyone else, chirping everyone and talking too much and being the good captain, and with Geno’s he’s—well, he’s treating Geno like anyone else. He tells Geno when he did well and when he thinks he can improve, he slaps Geno on the shoulder after a particularly nice shot on Flower, their passes connect like they always do.

But he doesn’t smile at Geno like normal, like Geno’s hockey is the best thing he’s ever seen. He doesn’t laugh or joke with Geno at all. He just—plays hockey with him. He’s never just played hockey with Geno, not even when they were kids and Geno didn’t speak any English.

Back in the locker room, Geno thinks about going over—about saying something. Apologizing, maybe? He’s still not sure what he did wrong, why Sid’s doing this. Sid doesn’t even get mad, not really. He gets hockey mad, sure, but unless you’re a Flyer, it doesn’t go more than a few hours off the ice—and he even got over that with Giroux. They’re friends now, Geno knows. Sometimes they text. Geno’s teased him about that too, about how Sidney has some sort of magic Canadian pheromone that makes all hockey players like him if he spends some time in a room with them.

But other than that, off the ice—Sid’s an even-tempered guy. He gets pissed like anyone else, and sometimes it’s easy to set him off if you mess with his routines, but Geno hasn’t, and anyway, this isn’t Sid’s pissy lectures that last for ten minutes then end. This is something else, something colder and harsher.

Geno gets out of his pads, and makes a move to go over to Sid. To do something, so Sid will stop just talking to everyone else and will start talking to him again. But then Sid turns to survey the room, and his eyes slow as they get to Geno—and then keep going, without even a smile.

Geno makes a face, and turns to Horny to start talking about their line. He doesn’t need Sid either. Horny doesn’t even call him on it, just lets him talk about plays until they’re interrupted by Sid, who’s leaving and does his usual captain not-quite-a-speech telling everyone to rest up and eat a good dinner.

“Like spaghetti?” Geno calls, partly before he can stop himself but also because Sid has to look at him then. And he does, his eyes settling on Geno, and Geno smirks back. Maybe—Sid will laugh and say at least he can cook spaghetti, which is a lie because Geno actually can cook but he likes pretending he can’t so Sid will come cook for him, and they both know it.

Except Sid just nods. “Whatever you want,” he says with a shrug. “See you all.”

He leaves. Geno takes a deep breath, and Horny lets out a low whistle. “Someone’s sleeping on the couch tonight,” he observes.

“I sleep in bed, not know what you’re talk about,” Geno retorts, because pretending he doesn’t get an idiom is always a good way to handle a situation where he doesn’t have a response.

///

He goes home, takes his nap, and gets into his game mode. That’s the same no matter what, and the routine is a comfort. Sid might be mad at him, but Geno still sleeps and eats and gets in his car, and the locker room doesn’t feel any different when he gets there from how it normally does. Sid’s set and as intent as he usually is, the beating center of the team as he moves around the room, talking to the guys who like to talk.

Geno usually doesn’t like to talk—he needs to get into the right headspace, and that means not shooting the shit with everyone else. So he’s not surprised when Sid doesn’t say anything to him, just passes him by. It still feels icier.

Sully comes in to say his piece, then they line up. Geno waits, and then it’s just him and Sid, and Sid looks up and their eyes meet for what feels like the first time in twenty-four hours.

For a second, a horrible, interminable second, Geno thinks Sid’s not going to do it. That Sid’s going to leave him hanging like this. That they’ve broken, utterly and completely.

But it’s Sid, and of course he’s not going to do anything to break his routine. Sid reaches out, and Geno’s hand pressed against his chest, then their heads knock together. It’s only for an instant, probably even less time than usual, but it’s contact. It’s still theirs.

And then Sid’s down the tunnel, and Geno after him, and Geno tries to stop thinking about what Sid’s shoulders are telling him. They’ve got a game to play.

///

They win in OT, on Geno’s goal, and Geno’s hit by four other bodies after it goes in. He doesn’t need to look to know who is who; he knows the one at his side is Sid, hugging him hard in celebration. It’s the icing on a game-winner cake, and Geno goes into the locker room smiling.

He comes out—not frowning, but dimmed. Sid hadn’t thawed. Whatever moment there was on the ice—Sid’s grin and the way he’d looked at Geno like he was the best thing there was—was apparently a one time thing, because when he’d tried to tease Sid about the scuffle he got into in the second, Sid had just brushed it away. It’s getting to the point where other guys on the team are starting to look uncomfortable.

They all end up going out, because they won at home and the rookies are into the idea. Geno gets there late, so people are already settled—the young guys are dancing, and so are some of the older ones but most of them are at a table, arguing loudly in different sets because hockey players are incapable of being quiet in groups.

Sid’s at the table, laughing loudly at something Dales had said. His face is scrunched up into his real smile, and he’s wearing one of his black shirts that always manage to look too small around the shoulders, and his hand’s twisted in his necklace again.

Geno orders two beers, and goes over to the table.

Sid’s not quite in the center, so despite the odd looks it’s easy enough to bully his way into the seat next to Sid, ignoring the wary looks assorted French Canadians are giving him. “Here,” he says, shoving the beer at Sid. “For you.”

Sid looks at it, then at Geno. The edges of his laugh are still in his eyes. “Thank you,” he says automatically. Then, less Canadian-polite reflexes, “I already have a drink, though.”

“I know. Get you another one.” Does Sid not understand peace offerings? When Sid still hesitates, Geno glares. “Sid, take.”

Sid’s eyes dart from Geno around the table, at the people watching them, and then he smiles, that perfect too bright media smile. “Okay, thanks.” He slides it towards himself, and takes another drink of what he already has.

Geno sighs, and starts up a conversation with Kuni across the table from him, because it’s better than thinking about how Sid’s inched his chair over so he’s farther from Geno.

He actually gets pretty wrapped up in that conversation, so he doesn’t really notice when things shift on the other side of the table, until he needs Sid to tell Kuni, Flower, and Tanger that he’s right and he turns to him—but he’s not there. Two empty glasses are, including the one Geno got him, which is something at least, but Sid’s not. Sid, Geno sees quickly, is across the bar, playing pool with Schultzy.

The last time they’d gone out, Geno and Sid had played pool together, and they’d lost but Geno had spent the whole time chirping everyone else as Sid leaned against him and tucked his giggles into Geno’s shoulder, and they’d done a parody of a celly when Geno had gotten a particularly good shot, and Geno was sure Sid hadn’t thought about the guy at the bar’s number at all because they’d been having fun.

Now, Sid is leaning over, that terrifyingly intense look on his face he gets when he’s going to win or god help the world, and Geno’s all the way over here.

He turns away from Sid, only to be met with three looks of varying forms of patience and amusement. He debates bullshitting, but these are actually the guys he probably needs to talk to. “Why Sid so mad at me?”

Tanger snorts. “Because you were a dick?”

“I’m always dick,” Geno points out, which gets a snort from Flower and a nod from Kuni. “Usually, Sid like. Think is funny.”

“He didn’t this time,” Flower informs him. Geno rolls his eyes.

“Yes, I’m notice. Why?”

“You should be asking him that,” Kuni puts in. He always makes what he’s suggesting sound so reasonable, Geno actually considers it for a moment before waving it away.

“Would have to get him to talk, first.” Across the bar, Sid’s shoving at Hags, his face set in that expression where he lost and he’s trying to go against all of his nature and be a good sport about it.  “Why won’t he talk to me?”

“You were mean,” Flower says, condescendingly patient in that way Geno hates. “He’s allowed to be hurt.”

“I’m not mean!”

“Seems like it.”

“I’m just tease! Is what we do!”

“Does he know that?” Kuni puts in, and Geno glares, outraged.

“Of course!” Of course Sid knows it’s just teasing. Of course Sid knows that Geno would do anything for him. Sometimes it feels like half the words out of Geno’s mouth are talking about how amazing Sid is, and he stands by every one of them. Geno would move mountains for Sid. Geno would—he would do a lot of stupid things for Sid. Even more than the rest of the team would, he thinks, and that’s a lot. None of Geno’s teasing counteracts that. “Of course,” Geno repeats, less sure. Sid has to know.

Tanger says something to Flower in French, and Flower replies in the same language. Geno glares. He knows that move. He’s done that move. That means they’re talking about him. “What?”

Another quick French exchange, then Flower smiles, all teeth. “Just saying, your pigtail pulling was a lot cuter when you were twenty.”

Geno decides not to humor that with a response. He just shoves away from the table. He needs another drink. He needs not to think about Sid and the wall that’s come down and stupid meddling Quebecois.

Across the room, Sid’s leaning over the pool table again. At this angle, his chain’s fallen out of his shirt, and Geno can see the 87, the glitter of the gold like a magnet drawing Geno’s eyes to the strong lines of his neck.

Geno definitely needs more beer. If he doesn’t, he’s going to go over to the pool table and do something stupid like yell, so. More beer.

///

Geno goes home disappointingly sober, though probably that’s good given they have another early practice then a game the next day, and then a roadie. But in that moment, it’s disappointing, because it means Geno can’t stop thinking. Sid has to know. Sid usually likes Geno’s teasing, and how he pushes Sid around a little bit and doesn’t let him get away with anything. It’s been a basic part of their friendship for almost ten years. Taking his necklace wasn’t anything different.

Except Sid had spent the whole evening away from Geno, circling between groups of teammates in a way that wasn’t abnormal except for how whatever group he was with was never the one Geno was with. Usually at bars, Sid’s the base that Geno always comes back to, going out to dance or flirt or drink and then coming back to try to coax Sid into one of those activities or just to talk with Sid, because that was always the best part of any night out—Sid with his cheeks a little flushed with alcohol and laughter giggling at something Geno had said.

Geno had missed that. And if Sid somehow fooled himself into not realizing Geno thought that, he’ll have to convince him of it again.

The next morning, he gets up inhumanly early so he can go half the city out of his way before practice. He actually gets to practice early, which earns him plenty of mock-gasps and a mimed heart attack, but he flips them all off and carefully sets down his acquisition in Sid’s stall, where he’ll find it first thing.

When he satisfies himself with the arrangement, half the locker room is gaping at him. He glares, his best Russian bear impression, and most of them stop.

Flower’s waiting near his stall, and he’s got his shit-talking smile on.

“Don’t start,” Geno warns, and Flower smirks and holds up his hands like he was never going to say anything at all.

Sid comes in a few minutes later. Geno watches him out of the corner of his eye, and he’s definitely not the only one, because no one’s tried to get Sid’s attention yet like they often do.

Sid sets down his back, straightens—and pauses, as he sees the box from his favorite bakery sitting on the shelf. “What?” he asks, leaning forward so he can open it. His eyes go big, then he twists to look at the locker room. The expression on his face is wavering between happiness and wariness. “My birthday’s not til August, guys.”

“Maybe you have a secret admirer!” Connor suggests, his face very carefully innocent. Geno shoots him a look that he hopes communicates just how much he’s going to fine him next time he has half an excuse.

“Maybe someone’s trying to fatten you up,” Tanger adds, pinching at Sid’s side. Sid bats him away.

“Maybe we stop asking about Sid’s present, and go play hockey?” Geno says, louder than he means to. Sid’s gaze flicks to him, holds. Geno wants to squirm. Wants to memorize how it feels, because Sid hasn’t looked at him in what feels like years.

“Oh,” Sid says, his fingers tangling in his chain and his teeth digging into his lower lip. He’s not smiling, but he doesn’t look upset, either. Confused, if anything.

Geno decides to count it as a win, and goes to play some hockey.

///

They lose that night, which is a shitty way to go into a roadie and just compounds the fact that Geno’s offering didn’t immediately clear everything up and Sid didn’t immediately start treating him normally again.

Fine then. Sid’s not a subtle guy; Geno can be more direct, even if it hurts. It’ll be worth it, if Sid’ll smile at him again, and not spend all his time holed up with Flower and Tanger speaking in French so Geno couldn’t understand it even if he wanted to. Sid doesn’t even like French. Tanger and Flower always spend most of their time teasing him about how bad his French is. They’re apparently allowed to do that.

They’re in New York the next day, and the team apparently took the loss yesterday as a fire under them, because they’re playing like a team possessed, Sid most of all. He’s on the sort of tear he gets when someone threw him a challenge, and Geno loves when Sid’s like this, when Sid’s pushing them all forward, pushing Geno to match him, be better. It feels like magic when they’re on the ice together, like it has since they were twenty, and when Sid breaks the tie in the last thirty seconds of regulation off of Geno’s assist with one of those insane shots that make Sid who he is, Geno’s the first one who hits him, grabbing him and spinning him around with his momentum.

“Sid!” he yells, and Sid’s alight with victory and he’s grinning at Geno like nothing else could ever matter.

Then the rest of the guys on the ice are hitting them, and Sid’s accepting the pats from them and Geno lets them in.

He catches Jen’s eye, as they file down the tunnel. She gives him the special exasperated look she saves just for him, but she hangs back to talk. “What?” she asks, sounding harried. “We made a deal, you do—”

“I talk to media today,” he announces, cutting her off. He almost wishes he had a camera to catch her expression.

“Seriously?” then she shakes her head. “Never mind, not looking a gift horse, etc. Okay, you’re on.” She pauses, then raises her eyebrows. “Are you going to do something I should know about?”

Geno thinks about it, but he’s not going to do anything unusual. That’s the whole point. “No,” he tells her. Then, because it was an odd question—he and Jen trust each other generally, and he knows that she never puts his slips down to anything other than language—“Why?”

Her lips press together. “Well, if you were going to make a grand gesture, I’d want to be prepared.”

“Grand gesture?”

She pats his arm, all perfectly poised condescension. “Try flowers,” she suggests. “That’s what my husband does, when he messes up.”

“I’m not—” There were so many things wrong with that sentence, not least of which that Jen knew that something had happened. He hated all his gossipy teammates.

“Okay.” She clearly didn’t mean it, but she let him off the hook. “Be ready for questions.”

“I’m always ready!” he retorts, and she laughs and lets him go.

He gets a lot of confusion when he settles in to let the reporters talk without complaining, both from the team and from the reporters themselves, who basically all know him by now. He catches Sid giving him a sidelong look, that same wary confusion, though, so his plan is working.

He answers all the bullshit questions, the shit they always ask like he’ll say something different, waiting. They always ask him the question when Sid’s had a hot night, he knows it’ll come.

Finally, “So that last goal of Crosby’s was pretty impressive—how do you think it compares to McDavid’s gamewinner that everyone was talking about last week?”

Geno sits up straighter, and glances over to where Sid’s answering questions. They seem to be dying down; he raises his voice as he answers, so hopefully Sid’ll hear him. “I think—Sid best.” Geno shrugs. The reporters are crowding in, because Geno is giving them some great quotes, but it means he can’t see Sid, if Sid heard. “I’m say for years, is still true. New guys, they good, but is no one like Sid. On ice, off ice. Best captain. Best guy. Best player. After me,” he adds, to get the laughs. “But is no comparing. Not to me.”

“Geno—” the reporters start, but they’ve shifted and Geno can see Sid. Can see Sid watching him, his eyes big, before he blinks and goes back to his own media.

Geno gets done first, so he heads to the showers before Jen yells at him for something. Before Sid gets done, maybe, and asks him about it. Before it might not have been enough.

“So,” Tanger says, because he must have been waiting to ambush Geno when he was naked and at his most vulnerable. “That was quite a speech.”

“Not a speech.”

Tanger waves his hand, dismissive. “A gesture, then.” He’s smiling, but his gaze is sharp. “They’re going to get a lot of mileage out of that.”

Geno shrugs again. “Is—if Sid…is worth it.” It’s not like he was lying. Not like it’s anything he hasn’t said before. Everyone knows his position on this.

Tanger’s smile softens, and he claps Geno on the shoulder. “Bon chance, mon ami.”

Geno doesn’t think he needs luck, but he’s not going to say no to it, either, especially not from someone who might be able to push Sid one way or the other.

“Spasibo,” he mutters, and dunks his head under the spray so Tanger can’t talk to him anymore.

///

There’s noise about finding a bar in New York after, but Geno’s tired and he doesn’t feel like getting teased about his sound bite for the whole night, so he begs off. He can’t tell what Sid’s going to do—he’s talking with Flower up by the front of the bus, and Geno’s too far back to figure out what he said. If even after that speech, Sid’s still going to go out—maybe find a guy, in this city where he’s mostly anonymous; maybe even just stand at the bar and flirt with someone, his eyes dark and his fingers teasing at his necklace like a taunt of what else they could do—Geno can’t see it.

He gets back to his room and strips out of his suit, pulls on sweats instead and his laptop, so he can maybe fine something to watch. He’s debating how much distraction he needs when there’s a knock on the door—one of the kids, hoping he’ll go out with them, he bets, and so he’s already saying, “I’m say, I not go—” when he opens the door.

Then he stops. “Hey,” says Sid. He’s changed too, into one of his five million sweats and Pens t-shirt combination, and he’s still a little mussed from the shower, and he’s fiddling nervously with his chain and Geno’s heart thumps painfully. “Can I come in?”

Geno steps back to let him in. Sid pushes past him, getting to the center of the room then turning in a circle, like he’s realizing there’s nowhere really to sit other than the bed. They’ve sat on each other’s beds in hundreds of hotel rooms, but something in Geno’s stomach twists at the thought of Sid on his bed, here and now.

Instead, Sid leans against the desk, half-perching, and crosses his arms over his chest. Geno doesn’t want to sit on the bed, then, and the desk chair is too close to Sid, so he just sort of hoves in the center of the room. What does he usually do with his hands when he talks to Sid? He’s somehow forgotten.

“Um. So…” Sid starts, and it’s so Sid that Geno starts to laugh.

“Sid,” he chuckles, and Sid’s grin flashes, quick and sweet.

“Sorry, this is weird!” he protests. “We’ve never had to do this before.”

He’s not wrong. It’s still so very Sid, and Sid had smiled at him, and it drags something out of Geno that he doesn’t do often. “I’m sorry,” he says. Sid’s eyes immediately go wide, and his eyebrows go up. “For—still not sure why what I did was worse than usual, but am sorry it made you mad.”

“Yeah.” Sid uncrosses his arms so he can run a hand through his hair. “It really—I mean, it was mainly me, and you couldn’t no, so maybe I overreacted, sorry.”

Geno rolls his eyes. His ridiculous Canadian captain. “Can’t apologize for what I’m apologize for, Sid.”

“Apparently I can,” Sid retorts, and Geno relaxes even more. “But, like. I know. I heard you, today. And with the cake. And—it really was—like, it probably wasn’t any worse than the shit we usually give each other.”

Geno sort of wants to drag in Flower and Tanger to make them hear that, so they know he was right. But also, “And?” he prompts. “You take worse, so—why?”

Sid bites at his lip again. “It’s, well. You know how it was for me, when I was a kid? With, well. The locker rooms weren’t always friendly.”

“I know.” Geno has heard the stories. Geno has wanted to go hunt down every kid who ever hurt Sid or made him afraid or said anything cruel and punch them, then shove their face into Sid’s trophy cabinet.

“Yeah, well. Sometimes, they would take shit from my stall—like, normally just little stuff, but it was sometimes my clothes—and they thought it was funny when I freaked out, so.” Sid shrugs, matter of fact. “It just, you doing that…It made me think of you like them.” Sid lifts his head, and his eyes are very very serious, and still just a little hurt. “I know you aren’t, but it still was—that you’d do something like them.”

Geno is going to kill all of those kids, and then he’s going to get someone to punch him in the face.

“Sid, I’m not—I’m not mean—”

“I know.” Sid gives him a weak smile. “I do, and I heard you today, but…”

“I’m not mean,” Geno repeats, because Sid needs to understand this. He crosses the room, so he can grab Sid’s shoulders, make sure he stays here. “Not—not want to laugh at you, or be mean.”

Sid’s gaze is even, but his brow furrows. “Then—what’s the point of the prank?”

“Because—” and here’s the thing Geno’s never really said, never admitted to anyone, even himself, but Sid needs to know he wasn’t like those kids, because he doesn’t want Sid to cut him off again. “Because, I want you to look at me.”

Sid’s eyebrows go up. “G, I look at you all the time.”

Geno shakes his head. He knows he’s going red. “Not like—you at bar, using chain to flirt, and you—want you to look at me always,” he mutters, and lets go of Sid so he can duck his face. He can’t say this and look at Sid. “Not flirt with other guys. Just with me.”

“Oh.” Geno refuses to look at Sid, but he can hear the wonder. “Oh. Geno…”

“Is fine if—I stop, I know, I can be dick about it, and is not—”

“G,” Sid says, and then his hand’s on Geno’s chin, tilting it up so he has to look at Sid. Sid’s smiling—grinning, really, and he’s looking at Geno like the world could fall apart around them and he wouldn’t notice, like all of Sidney Crosby’s famous intensity is focused right on him. “I’m always paying attention to you.” He licks his lips, and Geno can’t help looking, and when he manages to stop Sid’s smirking. “You didn’t have to spend eight years pulling my pigtails—”

“You and Flower, so obsess with pigtails,” Geno retorts, but he’s smiling too, because he knows the look Sid is giving him, and he’d never really thought, but he doesn’t want to be anywhere but here. “You not have enough hair to pull anymore.”

“That’s not really true,” Sid replies, his face even other then his dancing eyes, and Geno chokes. “I mean, unless you don’t think you can—”

“Think you need to shut up,” Geno tells him, and Sid’s laughing even as Geno gets a hand in Sid’s chain to yank him in to kiss him.

///

After, they’re lying on the bed, Geno still has his pants on, but he’s shirtless and Sid’s propped up on one elbow, idly tracing lines on his chest. Sid is naked, though, so Geno thinks he’s getting the better part of this deal, because he can lie back and watch Sid, with his messy hair and swollen lips and the mark on his chest that is definitely going to turn into a bruise, and bask.

Sid drags his finger over Geno’s pec, towards where his own cross is lying against his chest, when he pauses.

“Wait, did you apologize?”

Geno narrows his eyes. “You make me!”

“No, Geno apologized! I’m telling everyone. This is a first.” Sid goes for his phone, and Geno lunges, gets his arms around Sid’s waist to pull him back. It also gets Sid squirming against him, laughing as he stretches. “Come on, I’ve never heard of you actually apologizing before!”

“I say never happened,” Geno warns. “You big liar, everyone knows. Maybe not hear right.”

“Nope.”

Geno tugs, and turns, so Sid’s underneath him, grinning up at him as Geno hovers over him. He’s laughing and his eyes are glinting with it as he looks up at Geno, naked but for the chain on his chest and one sock. “I’m say you apologize first,” Geno decides, and silences Sid’s giggles with a kiss.

[jokessho]

Hi again :D If you're still accepting prompts (and if i can ask again Lol) can you do #40 and if you have time 51...PS: last time i bother you 😂❤️ Sorry but all this prompts are so good!

Yes,hello again! And thank you for your continued encouragement and support with these drabbles:D Not that these are drabbles, especially this one, but they’re fromdrabble challenge prompts, so I’m calling them that

This oneis actually a combination of the prompt: “We’re dressing up for Halloween thisyear and that’s final” and a chat I had with Dealice on ffn (where I’m also posting these).

Not exactly proofread, so please do point out any errors/inconsistencies.

“We’redressing up for Halloween this year and that’s final.” No greeting, just acommand.

“Um,okay?” Yamato said, warily eyeing Taichi in his doorway. “But just so you know,Halloween is like half a year away.”

“I know.” Taichi said, stepping into Yamato’sapartment without invitation. “We’ll need all the time we can get to preparethe best costumes ever.”

“Ever?”Yamato asked with a raised eyebrow and followed Taichi further into theapartment.

“Yes,ever.” Taichi said, spinning on the spot with his hands behind his back. Hegrinned at Yamato. “Are you ready to go?”

“Gowhere?”

“Shoppingfor costumes, of course.”

Yamatostood in the hallway, blinking at his boyfriend.

Itwas a Saturday morning and the high schoolers had planned to meet up today todo something. It had never crossed Yamato’s mind that that ‘something’ wouldinvolve shopping for Halloween costumes.

At around15, Taichi had taken an interest in how he dressed. That was fine; nothing wrongwith wanting to look good.

Forthree years, Yamato had been happy to have a well-dressed best friend. Sure, ithad had its downside: Taichi looking good only made Yamato’s crush on him grow.Of course, that attraction had been mutual, so it had worked out in the end.

Nowthat they were dating, though, Yamato hated how much effort Taichi put intoclothes. It wasn’t even the getting dressed part that Yamato hated. In fact,Taichi was quite quick to pick out clothes to don for the day. No, it was theshopping part that Yamato hated.

Well,Yamato hated shopping, period. Groceries were fine, since he had a list, stuckto it, and was quick to navigate through the store. Clothes-shopping was awhole different matter. With Taichi, it was even worse.

“Hello?” Taichi was waving a hand in front ofYamato’s face. He grinned when Yamato’s eyes snapped to attention. “There youare.” He leaned in for a chaste kiss. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”Yamato sighed, defeated. “Let me just grab my wallet and we can go.”

Whenshopping for clothes, the brunet would take ages mixing and matching items,trying them on and asking for Yamato’s opinion. Yamato never knew what to say.

Fine,good, alright, great, nice.

Sexy.

Noneof those words worked. Taichi would always frown, look himself over in themirror and disappear back into the changing room. He would tweak or completelychange his outfit, then come back out. Rinse and repeat.

Halfa year of dating and Yamato still hadn’t figured out the magic combination ofwords that would end his misery quickly.

Yamatowas jolted out of his musings as the bus they were in came to a stop and Taichigrabbed his wrist.

“Comeon, this is our stop.” Taichi said, pulling the blond up from his seat and downfrom the bus. “Jeez, you’re really spacey today.”

“Sorry.”

Yamatofollowed Taichi through the automatic glass doors of the shopping mall. Hisshoulders were slumped and his eyes were flitting around in discomfort. He feltTaichi’s fingers lace through his and looked at his boyfriend.

Taichihad an understanding smile on his face.

“Iknow you hate shopping, but I promise this will be fun.” He squeezed Yamato’shand briefly before letting go. “I know exactly which stores to hit and wherewe’ll be grabbing lunch.”

Yamatohesitated for a second. “…Lunch is a few hours away, still.”

“Iknow. But picking out costumes and trying them on will take a few hours.”

Taichichose to ignore Yamato’s mumbled prayer.

Thefirst store they entered sold party supplies, including costumes. The costumesection was small, but it seemed to be enough for Taichi.

“Oh,go as a cat!” Taichi exclaimed, pointing to the package containing ears, atail, and some face paints.

Yamatocast him a surprised glance, ears a bit red from the attention Taichi wasdrawing to them.

“Gowhere, exactly?”

Taichishrugged, still eyeing the cat accessories on display. “There are bound to beHalloween parties. If not, we’ll just arrange one for the Chosen.”

Yamatocontemplated his boyfriend for a minute. “Okay.”

Surprised,Taichi’s head snapped to the blond. “What?”

Yamatomimicked Taichi’s earlier movement and shrugged. “Okay, as in: okay, I’ll go asa cat to this non-existent Halloween party.” He grabbed the black option. “Willyou be going as a cat, too?”

Taichilooked absolutely horrified as Yamato grabbed a white set.

Ignorantof the mistake he was making, Yamato turned, the two packages of costumes inhand, and started making his way towards the till.

Inpanic, Taichi lunged for the blond’s arm, halting the other’s movements.

“No,no, no, no, no. No.”

Yamatoblinked down at the man hanging on his left arm. “Um, dog, then?”

“No.” Taichi straightened, bringing him eye-level with Yamato. “You’re missingthe point of the whole exercise.”

AtYamato’s blank look, Taichi rolled his eyes. He took the costume packages fromthe blond’s hands, hanging them back on the small racks. He grabbed the beigecat ears on display and put them on Yamato’s head.

“Therewe go.” He took the belt with the matching tail, intent on wrapping it aroundYamato’s waist.

Thatdidn’t sit well with the blond; he grabbed both of Taichi’s wrists and heldthem apart from each other and far from his waist.

“Whatare you doing?” Yamato’s face was red as he mumbled out the words.

Taichicocked his head to the side, tugging his hands back to himself. “This is thewhole point of the exercise: we try different things on.”

Yamatowas stumped and Taichi took the opportunity to wrap the tail around hisboyfriend’s midsection. He stepped back to survey the effect.

“Hmm.”

Yamatostood there, between the shelves of the store, with pointed ears and a tail. Helooked idiotic, he was sure of it.

Taichimade a motion with his hand, telling Yamato to turn around. Yamato did so,showing of his tail, feeling even more stupid. He looked over his shoulder, togauge Taichi’s reaction. It was contemplative.

SuddenlyTaichi shook his head.

“Nah,won’t work.” He walked over to Yamato and started undoing the tail-belt. “Don’tget me wrong, I love the idea of you dressed as a cat, but not like this. You’dhave to be naked, or at least close to it.”

Yamatoblushed, ripping the ears off his head.

Taichiturned around to put the tail back when Yamato shoved the ears onto thebrunet’s head.

“Isn’tthe whole point of the exercise to try on different things? You know, both of us trying on stuff.”

Taichi,tail in hand, turned around, looking confused.

Yamatofelt something in him respond. Okay, maybe Taichi had a point about thekitty-cosplay; it would work, but only in privacy.

Obliviousto his boyfriend’s thoughts, Taichi just shook his head in disbelief andremoved the ears. He replaced both accessories and grabbed Yamato’s wristagain, pulling him out and into the next store on his mental list.

Thisstore was completely focussed on costumes; it looked like a regular clothingstore, but the racks were lined with costumes of various designs and sizes.

Yamatostood at the entrance to the store, stared in for a few seconds, and turned togive Taichi a blank look. “Why didn’t we just come to this one right away?”

“Becausethat would be no fun.” Taichi said and grabbed Yamato’s hand, dragging himfurther in. “Pirates!”

Yamatorolled his eyes as he was dragged to the striped, black and red costumes andlarge hats with equally large black feathers.

“Onguard!”

Taichihad let go of Yamato’s hand and was now pointing a fake sword at the blond.

Amused,Yamato grabbed a nearby sword.

“Ithink you mean: en garde!” Yamato said with an overdone French accent beforeproceeding to lunge at Taichi.

Itseemed the clerks were used to customers having mini-duels in the store, asthey didn’t say anything to the two young men. The duel only lasted a fewminutes, anyway, with the boys calling a truce to avoid disturbing the otherpatrons.

“Whatabout hakamas?” Yamato asked, pointing towards the traditional section of thestore. The play-fight had lifted his mood considerably; the thought of costume-shoppingdidn’t make him want to run away.

Taichi’seyes lit up at the suggestion and the two made their way to the selection. Hepicked up two, one black the other navy.

“Let’stry them on.” Taichi grinned, handing Yamato the navy one.

Yamatonodded in agreement and the two made their way to the changing booths.

Puttingon the costume turned out to be easier than Yamato was expecting. The topresembled a karategi, but it was a pull-over, rather than the usual coat-likeopen-front kind. That would probably prevent it from opening up atinappropriate times.

Theactual hakama—the trousers themselves—looked authentic enough; loose-fittingand falling just to the ankles. Yamato stopped to wonder how shorter peoplewould be able to pull the costume off without tripping on the bottoms.

“Ready?”Came Taichi’s voice from outside the booth.

“Yeah.”Yamato said as he stepped out to join his boyfriend—whom looked quite good inthe traditional gear.

“Youlook like a cosplaying foreigner.”

Thatlittle comment from Taichi was all it took for Yamato to march back into thechanging booth and almost rip the curtain as he pulled it closed.

“Yamato?”Taichi said, peeking into the booth. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing.”

“Getlost.”

“Yama…”

“Goaway. I’m taking it off.”

Taichisighed; he should have known better than to comment on Yamato’s exotic looks;it had always been quite a sore subject for the blond. Why had he gone andopened his mouth like that? And just when Yamato had started to cheer up andenjoy himself.

Thefrown on Taichi’s face started to turn upwards in a cunning smirk, as his brainformulated a plan to cheer the blond up again.

Withoutfurther ado, Taichi slipped into Yamato’s booth, startling the half-dressedblond.

“Oi!”Yamato hissed, eyes flitting around nervously. “Get out. What are you doinghere? What if someone sees you?”

Taichijust smiled. “Relax, no one will care, even if they do notice.”

Yamatofrowned, knowing that Taichi was probably right. He turned his back to hisboyfriend. “Didn’t I tell you to get lost earlier? Still applies.”

“Don’tbe like that.” Taichi reached over and placed a hand on Yamato’s bare shoulder.“I really am sorry if you took what I said that wrong way.”

“Whatway was I supposed to take it?” Yamato tried shrugging the hand off hisshoulder, but it wouldn’t budge.

“I’msorry.” Taichi repeated. He moved closer and used his hand to turn Yamato,placing a kiss on the pale lips. It wasn’t meant to be chaste and Yamato understoodthat, responding eagerly.

Yamatoturned without prompting, threading an arm around Taichi’s lower back. Hepulled the brunet closer.

Thesound of someone calling for a friend outside the booth jolted Yamato back intoawareness of their surroundings. They were still out in public.

Yamatopulled away from Taichi. He was torn; worried about things escalating, but alsoreluctant about stopping there.

“Weshould continue the costume search.” Yamato pointed out.

Taichifrowned, but moved away with a final peck on Yamato’s lips.

“Alright.But we’ll pick this up when we get back home.” He flashed a grin before leaving the booth.

Yamatosmiled to himself. “I look forward to it.” He muttered, stripping off the restof the hakama costume and pulling on his jeans and button-up.

Taichiwas still changing when Yamato walked out of the booth. He took the hakama backto its place and proceeded to circle the store, looking for the next piece totry on.

Ahand grabbed his upper arm as he was looking through grim reaper stuff.

“Thisway.” Taichi commanded gently, walking them back past the changing booths andin the opposite direction Yamato had gone from them.

“Thisnext.” Taichi grinned, picking up a female sailor uniform and holding it outfor Yamato to see.

Yamatostared, incredulous. Taichi stared back, expectant.

“That’sa skirt; it’s a girl’s costume.” Yamato clarified, hoping against hope thatTaichi had just missed the small detail.

“Iknow.”

Thiswas probably why Yamato wasn’t the bearer of hope: his always came crashingdown.

“Iwon’t wear a skirt.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Forme?”

“No.”

“Ithink you’d look really good.”

“No.”

Taichisighed and lowered the costume to his side in a defeated manner. He alsolowered his head, casting the costume a longing glance. He then looked up atYamato from under his fringe.

“Isthere any way I could convince you to try this on? I promise you don’t evenhave to come out of the changing booth. Just, please try it on for me?”

Yamatocrossed his arms over his chest, inspecting the begging adolescent in front ofhim.

“Ifyou try one on, too.” Came the reply at long last.

Taichi’shead snapped up, eyes wide. “Huh?”

Yamatogestured to the costumes with his head. “I’ll put that on if you try one on,too.”

“Ican’t put on a dress; I’m the soccer team’s captain!”

“And I’ma rock star!”

“Didn’tyou just retire from the business?”

“…Yeah.”Yamato admitted, looking down before his attention returned to Taichi. “But Istill won’t put on a skirt unless you do, too.”

Taichigrit his teeth, squeezing the clothing in a tight fist. “Fine.” He glanced atthe costume. “You try this one on.” He thrust the sailor’s uniform at Yamato.“I’ll pick out something else.”

Grinningin victory, Yamato took the white and navy costume. “So which one will youdon?”

Taichicontemplated the female costumes, before settling on one. “This.” He pulled downan orange ball gown.

Yamatodid not look impressed. He brought his uniform up to eye-level, inspecting it.He inspected Taichi’s costume. He dropped his back to his side.

“No.”

“Notthis again!” Taichi lamented, dropping his head backwards and letting his armsfall to his sides. The dress was half on the ground.

“Taichi.”

“Weare not doing this again.”

Theirunimpressed faced matched.

“Soyou’re telling me,” Yamato started. “That I have to put on a skirt that willhardly cover my ass, whereas you get to be fully covered.”

“Yes.”

Yamatocast a glance at his uniform. For some strange reason:

“Fine.”

Taichiperked up. “Really? You’ll actually agree to this?”

Yamatoshrugged a shoulder, avoiding Taichi’s eyes. “I guess. I mean, you’d probablyget me to try it on anyway, so I might as well grab a deal that has youembarrassing yourself as well.” He shrugged again, not knowing what else to do.

Taichi’sbrown eyes shone as his grin widened. He grabbed Yamato’s free wrist, dragginghim towards the booths again.

“Ipromise this will be good.”

“I’mpretty sure I regret this already.”

Fiveminutes later, Taichi and Yamato were standing in costume, in their respectivebooths.

“Um.”Yamato started, eyeing himself in the mirror. “How did you plan this out,exactly? You said I wouldn’t have to come out of the booth.” He waited for a reply.“Does that mean you’ll be coming over here?”

Taichiwas silent for a minute, before making his decision: “We’ll both come out atthe same time.”

“Youpromised.”

“Butthat promise didn’t require me in a dress. Both of us.”

Yamatocontemplated this; he wasn’t happy with how short the skirt turned out to be onhis long legs. The long socks came up short, too, making him look stupid. Hebacktracked with his thoughts: putting on a skirt had been stupid.

“Yamato?”

Saidmale snapped out of his thoughts and heaved a giant sigh, which Taichi heard,bringing a smirk to the brunet’s face.

“Onthree?” Taichi asked, grabbing hold of the curtain.

“One.”Came Yamato’s defeated voice.

“Two.”Taichi grinned, albeit slightly nervous.

“Three.”They said as one and stepped out.

Afaint red tinted both their faces and they avoided looking the other in theeye. Instead, they took in the other’s costume.

Thehem and sleeves of Taichi’s dress had white ruffles and a white lace beltcircled his waist. The hem came to just above his ankles, probably being a tadtoo short, just like Yamato’s costume.

Overall,Taichi didn’t look bad, if slightly awkward. His hair could have done with adifferent style, though.

“Youlook cute.” Taichi commented, finally able to look into Yamato eyes. He smiledat the blond, trying to tell him that the situation wasn’t as bad orembarrassing as he seemed to think.

“It’sa bit too small.” Yamato mumbled, fiddling with the hem of his navy skirt.

Taichicocked his head, dropping his gaze back down to the costume. “Not like that’s abad thing.”

Yamatothrew him a glare before his eyes flew to the other customers, who were eyeingthe boys. “Can we change back now?” He turned to walk back into the booth, butTaichi’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Notbefore you tell me how I look.” He taunted. The little…

Yamatoturned his attention back to the orange dress. His face adopted a speculativelook. “It’s not bad; your hair could do with some bows or flowers, but otherthan that it’s fine.”

Taichirolled his eyes, keeping hold of Yamato’s arm. “Fine doesn’t answer anything.”

Mimickingthe other, Yamato rolled his eyes. They were back to this: no answer seemed tosatisfy Taichi.

“Itdoesn’t exactly suit you.” Yamato tried a different approach—a more truthful onethat would hopefully answer the question to Taichi’s liking.

Nodding,as if he had been expecting the answer, Taichi let go of Yamato’s arm. “Therewe go. I told you that soccer captains don’t wear dresses.”

Anotherglare was thrown at him before the blue eyes disappeared behind the curtain.

Chucklingto himself, Taichi re-entered his booth and got out of the uncomfortably tightcostume.

Bythe time they were out of the booths, Taichi announced that he was hungry.Thus, the two males left the store and made their way to the food courts.

Theypicked out a noodle-place, ordered their meals, and went to sit at a table inthe corner.

“Arewe done?” Yamato asked in-between mouthfuls.

Taichishook his head vigorously, swallowing his noodles. “Nope. We still haven’tdecided on costumes for the party.”

“Thenon-existent party.” Yamato corrected, picking up some noodles.

Taichichose to ignore the correction in favour of more noodles. “There are still twostores I want to check out, then we can go back, buy the kitty costume, and headhome.”

Yamatopaused in his eating. “I’m sorry, what?”

Taichilooked up from his near-empty bowl. “What ‘what?’”

“Thesecond-to-last thing; kitty costume.”

“Yeah,”Taichi shrugged, putting his chopsticks down and picking up his bowl. “We needto get one.”

Yamatofrowned as he returned to his noodles. “Two, then.”

Taichishook his head between slurps of the broth. “Nope. We can share it, but we’reonly getting one set.” He paused, contemplating a bit of air to Yamato’s left. “Doyou think those sets come with a collar and leash?”

“No.”Was the firm reply.

Browneyes returned to stare into blue. “Is that a ‘no, they don’t contain a leashand collar,’ or a ‘no’ as in ‘stop that train of thought right now?’”

“Both.”

Themales eyed each other in silence for a minute before Taichi shrugged and pickedup his bowl again, for the last of the broth. “Well there’s always the petstore on the second floor.”

“Taichi…”A warning.

“Youknow you’ll enjoy it.” Taichi said, then pointed to Yamato’s bowl. “You gonnafinish that?”

Expressionless,Yamato pushed his bowl at Taichi, dropping his head onto the table as he didso.

Grinning,Taichi finished off the bits of noodle and broth left in the bowl.

[btsbloodtearssquees]

Ring Around a Rosy: Part One

Requested ~ (Arranged marriage/best friends AU - Kim Seokjin) 1 2 3 4 5    She could feel it. The unbreakable love which lit the room in laughter and wholeness and gave life to the pastel colourings. They were smiling close into each other’s eyes as if the entire world around them had faded into a misty haze. Swaying in time to their heartbeats. Enriched by the future that began in that moment. Y/N had never seen anything so beautiful in her entire life, nor did she think she would ever see again. Her mother was a real life angel in her floor-length white gown and with the bedazzling clear jewels in her hair. Those were almost dull against the depths of her joyful blue eyes. Her fingers fit perfectly into the hands of Y/N’s new father - the only one Y/N had ever known, and therefore the only one she cared to. An excitement filled her six year old heart as she watched. My family, she whispered, clutching her ribbon-tied bouquet of daisies. My family forever. The song which had been playing faded out and a new more upbeat piece took over. But three loving souls didn't notice the difference. The bride, the groom - and Y/N.

------------------------------- “I wasn't expecting ‘I love you’.” “Then what were you expecting you blonde ditz?? Guys don't stick around for two weeks if they don't feel something. Gosh.” Seokjin laughed out loud at your wonderful commentary, delighted by the mocking atmosphere against the contrast of a highly emotional movie scene. “Ugh,” you rolled your eyes again at the terrible dialogue and soppy story line. “However, if he does say he loves you after two weeks, I'd be questioning his motives when he's lying in the same bed as you.” Your best friend rolled over into more loud laughter. You both had been ripping apart the film the entire time, finding it more interesting than watching it as it was. Personally, romance wasn't a genre for either of you but it was a favourite entertainment to endure it for the sake of making fun of the weak characters and clichés. Of which the film made that very easy to do. “You want more popcorn?” Jin asked as the scene ended, collecting up a few of the dirty dishes disregarded on the coffee table. “I think it's time to whip out the dark chocolate and ginger beer. The climax scene is coming so we need to settle our stomachs.” He pointed to the kitchen and made haste to do as you had instructed. As you sat back watching the film, you couldn't help but feel repulsed by how they were acting. Could love truly do that to a person? Apparently it really was losing your mind. Willing to risk all for a person they knew stuff all about. “Please punch me if I ever get like this,” you pleaded as Jin returned. He handed you your ginger beer and set the chocolate in between yours and his side of the couch. “The chances of that ever happening are about as high as my face becoming ugly.” You scoffed and whacked his arm lightly, amused by the dorky grin on his face. Sometimes you loved his sense of humour. But only sometimes. “Hey cupcake, bed’s in the other room.” You nudged Jin a couple of hours later; the TV off and your best friend sound asleep against the back of the couch. He stirred slightly, making zero attempt to open his eyes. “Seokjinie.. I ain't strong enough to carry you.” He shifted again, then twice more as you tickled his nose with a stray feather. “Hmmm,” he complained, squinting open an eye - and then two as he sat up and stretched. “How long was I out for?” “About twenty minutes. You're pretty cute when you sleep, you know.” “Really?” He answered in an unaffected tone. “Yeah. Like a little baby.” “How sweet.” You grinned and slapped your own thighs; bounding off of the sofa. It was already well past a humane bedtime, and you did have work in the morning. Taking a claim on the bathroom first, you went in and cleaned your teeth then briefly returned to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water. “Oh, no don't do that!” You protested when you saw Jin finishing off the last of the dishes. “I was going to do that in the morning.” He shook his hands into the sink and dried them on a tea towel. “And now you don't need to.” You smiled and gave him a friendly squeeze around his shoulders. Having him here had proven pretty beneficial so far; the stress of everyday life had definitely gone down. Eyes quickly passing over the ring on his fourth finger, you ignored the funny feeling in your stomach and proceeded to get your glass of water. The two of you scuttled exhaustedly down the hallway together. “Good night,” he waved to you, hand on his bedroom doorknob. You poked your tongue out at him. Entering your dark room directly across from his, you then gave him a brief smile before switching on the light and shutting the door. You'd long surpassed the stage of energy and numbly changed into some baggy pj's. Crawling under the cool bed sheets in satisfaction, you quickly set your alarm. A moment of hesitation passed over. You stared at the golden ring on your finger as if it were foreign and unwelcome. Like it was dissolving your skin away. Then you slipped it off and switched off the light. That ring didn't define you anymore than a choice of burger would. It was merely a symbol to show that you and Seokjin would have each other’s back for many more years to come. As friends. ------------------------------ The car ignition switched off as you reached over the seat for your bag and then pulled out the keys; opening the door in the same few seconds. It had been a reasonably long day at work and you were exceptionally pleased to be home. Locking the car on your way out, you walked clumsily up to the house and stumbled your way inside. Your senses instantly detected something delectable. You turned your attention to the kitchen where Jin was half buried in the pantry. Smiling as you tossed down your bag and slipped out of your shoes, you walked into the kitchen and slowly bent down to his height. He still hadn’t even noticed that anyone had entered the house; immersed in finding something that was clearly difficult to access. “Ra!!!” You yelled, jumping onto his back as he stumbled and hit his head in surprise. “Holy mackeral, I never noticed you come in!!” “I know,” you giggled wickedly, moving back so that he could stand up. He collected the pan he had been searching for and then straightened, giving you a quick playful glare. “And after that trauma, would you mind getting the salad out of the fridge and slicing up some of that bread?” “I do.” He looked despondent. “But I’ll do it anyway.” The table was set with the plates, glasses, and cutlery... and the salad and French bread, in just a few minutes. Jin’s masterful roast chicken and vegetables were placed victoriously in the centre. You breathed in the smell in satisfaction as he sat across from you. “Well, let’s eat.” You both gladly obliged. “How was work today?” He asked after a couple of minutes of dedicated eating. “Pretty good actually. Managed to find some fairly cheap airfares for Adolene for her conference in the Bahamas. Also finally finished organising her nightmarish emails.” Jin nodded in respect, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin before speaking again. “When does she get back from England?” “This weekend, when she’ll finally have a slight rest.” “But you won’t, no doubt.” You sighed, crunching on a fresh forkful of salad. “Keeping up with Adolene is not a restful job.” “At least it’s reasonably well paid.” You nodded in agreement, stabbing through a piece of chicken. “And how about you? Was it busy at the restaurant today?” “Not very. Only about thirteen separate customers came through during the lunch hours, and it was practically dead during the day.” “You’re working the evening shift tomorrow night, aren’t you?” “Yep. So you have to make your own dinner.” He grinned at your pout. If you could describe your cooking in one word, it would be ‘microwave’. The two of you merely enjoyed the food silently for the next little while; you planning what work you could get done after dinner. Even after a full day in the office, there was still so much that it often carried on into your ‘free’ hours. “I was thinking… we should go out somewhere this week. Like - a nice restaurant… other than my own -” he grinned, “- and a walk along the pier…” “As in a date?” You responded in a suddenly cold tone. Jin lowered his eyes to his plate. “Shouldn’t we at least be trying?” A bubble of anger boiled inside of you that he was bringing this up again. “For goodness’ sakes, Jin, you’re my best friend. We don’t need to go beyond ourselves.” “You’re also my wife.” You froze as that sick feeling leaked into your bones. There was that word. You hated that word. “Don’t say that,” you breathed. “It’s different for us.” He shifted his food around on his plate miserably. Guilt clawed at your conscious, furthering your frustration. If he didn’t keep acting like you should be behaving less like a friend and more like a spouse, there wouldn’t be any of these problems. “I thought we had agreed to marry on the basis of joining finances and because romance is all a big pile of dog dung, anyway,” you told him in as quietly calm a voice as you could muster. He swallowed down a piece of roast pumpkin that seemed to stick in his dry throat, then slowly wiped his mouth. “We did agree to that.” “Then what is the problem?” You watched as he painfully fed himself the last of his food and then stood up with his plate; deliberately averting his eyes from yours. “It’s fine. Are you finished?” You choked down the urge to scream and dug your fingernails into your leg; passing him your plate with as realistic a smile as was possible. “It was delicious, thank you.” --------------------------------- I’m still aliveeee!!!! :P This was requested ages ago but as I’ve been painfully working my way through my other two requests, the person who requested probably thought I had forgotten! I indeed have not and have instead produced a story line that I am actually rather proud of. It’s probably not what you expected but I hope you won’t be disappointed ;). Part Three of both History and Outskirts are both a work in progress ATM. They shall be here as soon as my brain kicks into gear. - Dolceice