#but MY GOD that jacket. I knew it would be the bane of my existence before I started it but STILL……..

[evanescentsun]

HAPPY BDAY SRDA…..!!!!!!!! TO THE BEST GIRL EVER!!!!!!!!!!!

collection of srda art I collected over the months under;

I was thinking of other stuff to draw for srda day instead of this one since it was going well.. and made this lil sketch idea and then went oh. cuz it reminded me of this srda bday one i did like what (apparently for last year! who knew!) and went thro memory lane… I TRULY THINK I DREW HER THE MOST……biggest sarada fan honestly<3 i love her design n her so much. shame that tumblr only allows a limited amount of art on a post.

[amxthystiine]

Oh god this is gonna be a long one 💀

Now, at long last we get to the meat of our tale, as we cut to our unlucky bespectacled brunette scrambling down the street to school, his heart racing as he darts through the gates right before they closed.

"Phew, that was another close call... Man, Lucy would MURDER me if I was late!"

Thomas Pascall muttured to himself, laughing and shuddering at the thought of one of his closest two friends at the moment - Lucy Franklin, an blonde, usually glasses-wearing amber-eyed formal & intelligent girl with a penchant for sweaters & vests.

She's a very strict stickler for rules and order, being quite cold and blunt, but when it truly counts she wouldn't hesitate to come to her friend's aid and stand up against injustices, or at least, that what she likes to call them.

While she does warms up to you quite quickly once you get to really know her, something about her just seemed...familiar to Tom, in a way that resonated with him. He couldn't explain it, but he felt like he knew her for years.

The same applied for his other closest friend - Emery Bower, another girl with dark brown hair and eyes who just can't be seen without either her crystal necklace, a denim jacket or her black hat with a sprig of lavender attached to it by a pinkish-lavender ribbon.

While on the surface she seemed to be the generic bratty grumpy teenager who you'd expect to yell "IT'S NOT A PHASE, MUM!" she's a truly passionate person in every way of the word, whether it be her ranting about teachers that couldn't fucking do their job or encouraging and hyping up a friend when they're down

There was just somethin about the fire that would light in her eyes when she was excited about something that you couldn't resist adoring, and yet, that twinkle in her eyes felt familiar as well, somehow.

Oh, and speaking of which-

"RAAGH!"

"HOLYSHI-"

"PFFFFTTT SHHAHAHAHA! YOUR DAMN FACE WHEN I GOT YOU LIKE THAT TOM!! I GOT YOU SOOOOO GOOD!"

"Oh come ON EMERY GIVE IT A REST WOULDJA?!"

-That's right, Emery can get a bit petty and mischievous at times. Dammit, OF COURSE she'd try to scare me when I was almost late to school there!

I sigh to myself, walking and chatting with Emery as she animatedly gesticulated her way through the wildest stories she'd hear around town.

Just another regular school day, I thought to myself as I finger-gunned, smiling cheesily at Lucy who facepalmed herself in embarrassment, flushing slightly as she walked over to me and Emery, walking together to our classes as I heard a voice in my subconscious-

"Man, when are you gonna confess to one of em?! I can tell you love em as best friends, but at this fuckin' point I think you want to be something more! Especially with Lucy~"

The teasing voice brang a specific smug clock-eyed face to mind as I heard it ring inside my head, and thus I grumbled my reply under my breath -

"Oh c'mon K, you know I only love them platonically and nothin' more. I'm not damn ready for the commitment of a partner yet..."

That voice, or the bane of my existence as I liked to think of it, is the voice of an insufferable time god that I've done a deal with to gain this time bending scythe in the first place, and now he's stuck in my head, constantly throwing snarky comments at me. Oh, uhm, right, I didn't mention that this was a part of an average school day for me.... Oh well!

I honestly feel as if there's a lot I'm not remembering, and that this guy was the crux of it all, but thinking about said lost memories just felt painful and wrong to me, so I personally just don't like to think about it much.

I do feel as if I'm forgetting something big, though.

As that last thought ran through my mind I sighed again, my head throbbing with pain. I then felt a comforting hand on my shoulder, turning around to find Lucy, a smile that lit up my life on her face. Man, I'll give the madman one thing - he wasn't reaaally too off the mark when it came to my feelings on Lucy. Maybe.

Eventually, we reached our tutor group, or homeroom, or whatever the hell you call it!!

Exhausted and still wheezing after the mad dash to school, I zoned out of the teacher's notices for the day as I gazed around the room, taking note of the others around the room.

A tall, green-&-curly haired boy in a camo shirt, black ripped jeans, green shoes and denim jacket was snoring at the back, clothes a mess as the leaf crown he always wore on his head drifted up and down with him.

Terry Woods, local intimidating guy who doesn't hesitate to use that fact about him to his advantage. Every time, consistently, the guy'd seem like he got next to no sleep when he came to school, his insomnia (or at least, that's what I'm assuming it is-) always getting worse and then better within the month. He has a younger twin, Nova, but I rarely meet her in the halls. She's a sweet girl though, if I recall.

Speaking of Terry, I think something's going on between Emery and Terry, but I'm not really sure what...they never seem to last 5 minutes without glaring at each other or being at each other's sides, and at this point I can't tell whether they want to be in a relationship or they hate each other's guts. Like, one second they're smiling fondly at the other, as if remembering something pleasant about the other person, and the next they're glaring daggers like they're mortal enemies.

Hey look, they're doing it now!

Next to him was the madman daredevil, Richard Robins. His dark blue hair and constantly pulled up hood of his blue hoodie alongside his purple-crystal attached eyepatch over his right eye makes him seem like the menacing, mysterious quiet kid at the back of the class, the impression of which he puts up pretty well, but when it's break or lunch, the only part of that description that really sticks is menace, cause if you thought Emery's jokes were bad, this fucker takes her extraness when it came to pranks and stunts and kicked it up to 11.

Heck, I've heard that the guy has a lighter on him at all hands in his hoodie pocket, ready to burn his hand covered in rubbing alcohol or something to freak out anyone around him.

I do feel a sense of familiarity about him too, but not as strong as Emery and Lucy though. Maybe we met at a concert or a meetup once? Feel like it may be a bit more important than that, but it definitely wasn't for long.

Behind both of them was the local conspiracy theorist as we liked to nickname him, the wannabe detective Martin Menthe, an amber-eyed boy who was rarely seen out of his wizard D&D cosplay outfit - and while it was weird as fuck in my opinion, I ain't denying the fact that his staff, wig and hat was made really well.

Him and some other girl, I think it was Lav(?)

"She wanted to be a prosecutor, right?"

I muttered to myself, getting a reply of -

"Yeah, you're not misremembering someone's name for once ya doofus!"

She and Martin are getting mentored by a person actually in the law workfield, which is extremely lucky, actually, considering the absolute chaos this damn city is at night. This guy is usually aggressively scribbling on something, as he was now, on a notepad while glaring at both Rick and Terry in front of him, who seem to be making a few paper airplanes together.

So, where does the "conspiracy theorist" nickname come from? Well, every now and then Martin will end up dragging a full ass blackboard into school during lunch, the board being covered in red threads and pictures and newspaper articles as he gestures wildly at the entire board, excitedly rambling with a passion that rivaled Emery's about how this accident was linked to one 3 years ago or whatever. Like, his logic is all sound and the guy's terrifyingly good at deductions and profiling, but he never really has any evidence on his red-thread boards, so I find them hard to believe. To be honest, most of the school only crowds around Martin not for whatever theory he's gonna pull out of his ass this time but for comedic content n shit as they probably make parody vids of the guy and post em online for everyone to see.

I've also usually seen him running about at night, always finding where all the fights were (somehow) and scurrying like a little rat as he tries to gather what I assume is evidence for his theories.

Or at least, that's what I think people here'd do. Either way Martin doesn't ever bothered by stuff like that, and honestly? Godspeed man. I will say though, he always hits a peak of his delirium at school around this time of the month anyways, so maybe someone should start watching his caffeine intake??? I dunno man, I'm just concerned for him, because with willpower, determination and confidence like Martin's comes the wildest of incidents, and let's just say it's not Terry or Rick or any other jock round here who gets the most hospital trips round this school.

On the desk to the left of him was Orion, a curious, polite & quite mysterious black-and-white haired amnesiac with decorum to rival royalty. Y'know, I could've sworn I've heard at least Martin ramble at least once about how Orion and Victoria were long lost royalty. Pfft, imagine that! I will say though, how we first saw him at school in full armor, sheathed sword in hand with a diadem on top probably did help his theory, but hey, we already have one cosplaying maniac on the premises so a second one wouldn't be too surprising. He probably got lost on his way back from a convention.

And while usually he is quite nice and caring to others, I still quite often see him with the three I've mentioned before. I will say, I've heard that they're roommates, but still, that doesn't really mean you have to be around them for so often out of said room- like, if you see a hoodied roommate of yours get on the building's roof somehow, holding a basketball, poised to jump as another two your roommates juggle a hoop between them, I think you'd yell at them to get down and stop messing around, and not join your first roommate by flipping through the hoop and into a bucket of water.

Don't ask. The point is, he seems to have some kinda reckless side that just kinda cement him as part of these four as the harbingers of the craziest news that happens around here.

Oh, and about Victoria, she's much more casual and cheery than Orion, and is one of his closest friends. I'd consider them a bit more considering the amount of time they spend with each other, running all around town, but they never really seem to be dating yet, despite the fact that it's obvious these two sweethearts have a crush on each other. They seem to trust each other a lot and are the closest of friends, but something about them feels kinda awkward, like as if they both feel like they're not supposed to be near the other.

It's weird man, just like most of the people here.

At the opposite corner to the Quartet Out Of Hell, sat their honorary 5th member, Jack, an energetic cheery but snarky idiot who has a habit of taking things a bit too far. As I mentioned earlier, he too hangs around the previous four mentioned, and likes to act as a wingman for them, whether it be pulling off insane stunts at dates or switching off the power supplies for the lights as to bail the other out. He's a dark blue haired kid with a yellow highlight akin to a bolt of lightning in his hair, and is usually seen in a vanity jacket and sneakers. Oh, and he's really good with tech, but letting him DJ at last year's prom was......certainly a decision.

I gazed upon my other classmates before gazing out the window, vision blurring as I started to space out-

RRRIIIIIINGGG!

-Suddenly, a sharp noise pierced my ears as I snapped out of my stupor, cupping my hands over my ears as the bell went off. Yeesh, I keep forgetting how LOUD that thing can be! Shoving my hands in my pockets, I joined back up with Lucy and Emery as we split up for our respective classes, from which the rest of the day was a blur, apart from lunchtime, as per usual.

My prediction earlier turned out to be bang on the money as I watched Martin, wizard hat askew, drag his trusty blackboard to the front of the cafeteria and opened it up to see the usual mess of red threads and newspaper clippings, except, something was a bit different about how the audience was gazing upon the board and the confidence that the theorist had while wildly pointing about the familiar images on the board-

Wait.

Is that?

No, no way, it can't be-

And yet, it was. I thought he was just joking about making this but seeing it in front of my eyes right here, right now, has really made me respect Martin's guts for doing this.

The local vigilante identity theorizing board he kept boasting about.

So, uhm, Martin had this weird theory that he kept saying he was "working on" that some people here at this school was somehow linked to the local news's headliners as, if it wasn't obvious enough already, this city's a bit of a chaotic hellhole, with self-proclaimed heroes, villains, vigilantes and anti-heroes scrambling all over the place, and while it's all fun and games hearing & witnessing the latest spat between Firecracker and the Celestial Paladin until you're the one in between them.

Seriously though, knowing Martin's luck, he'll get like 2 of these right, and they'll be the most dangerous of them all to cross, and next thing you know it he's coming to school next morning with an eyepatch akin to Rick's...

...and hey, wait, I recognize that picture! That exact moment where sparks flew between the Midnight Mage's and Monarch's staffs had a photo taken from another point of view, being featured in the front page news! I knew that green blur looked SOMEWHAT familiar...

To be honest, I think this new board may be his magnum opus so far, and I can easily tell that he sure as hell thinks so considering the smug face he's making in the corner right now. Man, some people are NOT going to take this lightly...

...I stared at Emery, curious to see what her take was on it.

And, surprisingly, (or not, honestly) she was glaring at Terry again, and he was glaring back, both with such intensity I could almost hear the crackle of electricity between them!

Lucy, right behind her, was putting up a brave face, but even I could tell she was sweating from all the way back here. Poor girl's gonna have a lot of rumours and scuffles to squash as student council president...I told her not to stress herself out on the job just yesterday as well!

"Oooooooh, man, I often see this kiddo scrambling about at night, but even I have to give him credit. Considering how destructive these scuffles can be, to be able to get even these little bits of evidence is impressive!! Gotta give credit where it'd due 'n all!"

Yet again that sing-song voice reverberated obnoxiously in my head, just what I needed after the entire cafeteria had burst out into yells and heated chatter.

"God damn it K, can you not???? Like at least is there like a volume slider up in there????"

"Pssssht, you deal with it or I take the whee-"

"NO. Especially not HERE!"

"Fine fine, calm down you idiot, I was kidding anyways...I'm no fuckin good round people and have no restraint anyways."

I probably looked like a maniac if anyone saw me muttering and gesturing to myself but eh, in this racket I'd bet everyone was too focused on spreading the word around anyways.

After the small conversation with K, the bell suddenly rang, ringing so effing loudly that even the local gossips around here shut up as they looked up in surprise. My ears are still ringing after that one...

I then caught a glimpse of the headteacher, still in that tuxedo (?) suit (?) (I have no idea how to describe it...) and mask that hid every part of his skin watching with his beady eyes from behind the cafeteria doors...something's definitely up with that guy. Of course, an investigation into him will have to wait as I already have enough mysteries on my plate to solve whatever it is, but man, I'm keeping an eye on him. I squinted at him while leaving, as to be able to somewhat communicate that I couldn't trust the guy.

But hey, I then walked to my next class and the rest of the day flew by. What can I say? I was excited for how this move of Martin's would affect tonight's shenanigans.

As I eventually opened the door to my dorm, darting straight to the bathroom as I changed and got myself ready for tonight, I take a look at my scythe mentioned way back earlier in my room's cupboard.

Look, I had nowhere else to put it ok? Worst case scenario, if someone sees it they'll think it's am elaborate cosplay accessory.

Seeing my reflection in it's blade, I grinned at myself.

Oh yeah, I never really said that I was trying to take up my father's legacy, did I?

Well, a few (years ? or months ? everything's becoming a blur to me...) back I decided to trudge on a journey as to discover what truly happened to my dad, and why he just went missing all of a sudden.

It was this search that lead me to discover his old files on researching time travel, and I then quickly connected the dots between him and the Time-Reaper, however, before he got to share his discoveries in plain clothes, he disappeared. Gone, without a trace, leaving me and my sickly mother behind as she too died a few years afterwards.

Thus, I just have to know what happened to him. You're telling me that I have to believe that he had so much going for his life, and just threw it away by ending it all or just disappearing? No. It had to be a kidnapping, or a final duel, or something if that sort!

He cared for me as a child, and I have many fond memories of all of us together...

...no, I have to get back on track. No time for reminiscing on lost time now.

Basically, I decided to take up his legacy and follow in his footsteps as to be able to hopefully get for info about him by retracing his steps.

Ok. Maybe it was a liiiittle bit influenced by the really cool idea of being a hero. But hey, what else could I do with a scythe that RIPS THROUGH THE SPACE TIME CONTINIUUM?!

I then rushed to the rooftop, clambering up the ladder as I stood on the balcony, leaving on my scythe, my hair flowing behind me in the wind. Ah, man have I missed this!

I took a deep breath, smirking as I swung my scythe back up at a carryable height, walking backwards towards the railing, flipping round it as my vision turned upside down, gazing downwards at the maze of houses and dark alleys beneath me-

I let go of the railing.

Man, I always get giddy at this part!

Twirling my scythe in front of me, I press a hidden button near the centre of the pole, causing the tip of my scythe to reveal a smaller, sharper blade, and rip a time rift that I fall into, resulting in me landing on my two feet on a street a few blocks down from my house.

I then casually walk past as if nothing happened, using the bottom spike of the scythe to sew the hole back up like fabric.

Hehehe. Like the fabric of space time. Wait, is that why it was named that???

"Yes, idiot, of course it is. For someone with a scythe that grants you the power to time travel, you sure don't know SHIT about how it works-"

"God dammit K, don't start lecturing me about how-"

We, (or, well, I?) bicker as I go on patrol round the town, wondering if Martin's sudden call out would somehow influence tonight's events. I will say, a couple of my own suspicions were on there...

I then hear a familiar flutter of feathers and the swoosh of fireballs as I lean on my scythe, turnimg around to see the shadows of a familiar person- and a much bigger beast, the wall near me showing these shadows being lit up by a bright purple light akin to fire. Yikes. Looks like Amethyst got to the Menace first. I would intervene...but I feel if I did I'd probably get horribly injured, would horribly injure someone or just ruin the flow of the fight in general. And I know that the Midnight Mage is a strong magic wielder - she could probably take care of the Menace herself, and be pissed at me if I disrupted her concentration.

Right. I, alongside two other vigilantes round here are part of a team? Kind of? It's more so like having a good colleague you can rely on. Like usually we take our own opponents on by ourselves but in cases of emergencies or situations where one person isn't enough, we won't hesitate to work together. I guess it's an alliance of sorts, then?

As part of this team, we've given ourselves codenames. The Midnight Mage is Amethyst, I'm Wisp, and the Celestial Paladin is Astrid. Some of these weird titles can be a mouthful, so we usually just stick to our codenames or nicknames based on our titles, I guess.

Letting out a small sigh of guilt on ditching my colleague, I flip around on hearing sudden yells and loud, fast-paced footsteps, only to see a blue blur leaping across rooftops, something like smoke and flames trailing on from behind it.

And moments later, from right behind me came the source of those footsteps - a nimble, green-robed figure holding what looked like a huge cup filled with and donning a wizard like ha- hey wait, isn't that-

"COME BACK HERE YOU FIEND! I WILL APPREHEND YOU!!" shouted Martin, changing towards Firecracker like his life depended on it.

Will Martin EVER give up his chase after Firecracker?! I know that he despises him for burning shit down that he considers inhumane, but he also hates Amethyst for her disregard for local property during battles! So why chase one far more than the other?! Even worse, of the two, Firecracker's the one that's far more likely to hurt you-

"Goddammit-! move outta the way! Can't you see I'm in pursuit of an arsonist over here?!"

I hear a sudden yell from behind as I was pushed out of the way, the flame in Martin's eyes being one to rival any blaze that Firecracker made. Yeah...on second thought, maybe interfering with this chase is a bad idea as well.

I turn away again, feeling less guilty as no-one knows how that chase'll end. The one guarantee is that Martin'll lose Firecracker again, and that he'll have some kind of injury to prove it.

I kept going round and round my usual patrol route but didn't find any other disturbances - apart from a couple of shadows zipping past and a crash here and there, and even then I couldn't catch whoever the hell they were.

Thus, I decided to call it a night, disappointed, yet unsurprised with the little action the night had. As I changed back into normal clothes and locked my scythe away again, I leapt into bed, ready for another day of similar tasks and a good, long sleep.

Well, that's what the boy told himself, anyways. Little did he know just how quickly his night-time excursions would escalate...

[dysco-lymonade]

Clexa #7

7. Visiting them at their place of work.

It’s like you’re in my head, Anon. I’m thinking of posting on this AU as a series of snippets to ease myself back into the game.

Lexa tugs her jacket tighter around her shoulders as she faces the cool midnight breeze of downtown polis. She has two blocks to figure out what she’s going to talk to Clarke about tonight. She can only small talk about the weather so many times before the blonde thinks she’s got as much depth as a puddle.

Lexa had just barely managed to get her latest assignment submitted before the 11:59pm cut-off time, and her one and only motivation was seeing the corner store clerk on her way home.

She picks up her pace as she sees the neon store sign up ahead. The mantra of ‘don’t fuck this up, be cool, be brave, be suave,’ running through her mind on a loop. She pushes her way through the door, ready to plaster on her most casual grin as she makes eye contact with the cashier, only to falter in her steps.

Instead of seeing Clarke, she holds the gaze of a floppy-haired frat boy, who looks all-too-pleased to see her walking through the door.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Lextra Woods.”

“Bite me, Collins.”

“God, I would love to.” He retorts with a smarmy grin.

Lexa rolls her eyes and moves on to the drink coolers. Of course, Finn fucking Collins works here too. Finn fucking Collins, the bane of her existence. Beta Fish Chi fucking- whatever frat president Finn fucking Collins. The boy had been making her life an absolute living hell for the better part of the semester. Every time she would cozy up in her favorite corner of the student library to work on her assignments, in would walk (read: stampede) Finn fucking Collins and his gaggle of pledges. Lexa wasn’t even convinced he was part of an actual fraternity, but rather, just trying to have every guy at Polis U begging to be his friend.

She scoffs as she yanks a bottle of water from the cooler.

“Rough night?” She hears from behind her, ready to turn on a dime and give Finn fucking Collins what for.

Only she turns around and is met with the cool blue gaze of none other than Clarke Griffin. She damn near drops the water bottle.

“Oh- uh, yeah. You could say that.” She mentally slams her head into the glass door of the drink cooler. “Better now, though!” She pulls what she hopes is a charming smile onto her face. In reality, Lexa is pretty sure she looks like a serial killer.

“So… Lextra, huh? Interesting name.” Clarke flirts, actually goddamn flirts, with that mouthwatering bite of her bottom lip.

“Lexa… actually. Collins is total tool. Thinks everyone deserves a nickname.”

“Don’t I know it; he won’t stop calling me ‘Princess’ and I want to vomit every time he says it.” Clarke rolls her eyes and moves towards a rack of potato chip bags to presumably reorganize them.

“How utterly condescending of him.” Lexa picks at the label of the water bottle for a moment, contemplating asking, but eventually goes for it. “I really haven’t given you my name after all this time?”

Clarke shakes her head in the negative. “Nope.” She pops the ‘p’, of course she does. “I’ve been fiddling with a few possibilities. Heather seemed too uptight, Brittany too lackluster, I knew it had to be something more unique.” She winks. Actually goddamn winks, and Lexa damn near passes out.

“I would say thank you, but I didn’t pick my name.” Way to be suave, Woods, get it together. “I’m glad I ran into you, actually.” There she is. “I wanted to ask you something. I haven’t seen you on campus, but I’m assuming since we seem to be the same age, that you must go to Polis U. Otherwise why would you work so close?” Stop rambling, get to the point! “Anyway. There’s this fundraiser. It’s more of a bar-crawl, honestly, but it’s to support my program. You buy a wrist band, and the proceeds go to the Law department… I know, bar-hopping for the law… kind of silly…” GET TO THE POINT “Anyway, I wanted to see if you might want to come along with me?”

By the time Lexa is finished rambling, Clarke’s eyebrows have pretty much reached her hairline. But the soft smile on her face, and subtle tilt of her head give Lexa pause. Maybe she didn’t totally fuck this up.

“I did go to Polis.” Oh, did she graduate already? “But I had to take a leave of absence.” Interesting… “And I can’t actually go with you.” Clarke bites her lip, but not in a flirty way. Lexa tilts her head, clearing asking the blonde to continue. “Look, Lexa…” Oh god, this isn’t good. Abort. ABORT. “No, no! It’s not you.” Oh god, I’m going to hurl. “Fuck. That sounds terrible but it’s NOT! Listen, come here for a minute?” Clarke starts making her way toward the back room of the store.

“Clarke, it’s fine. Seriously, you don’t have to expl-“

Before Lexa can finish, Clarke has yanked the right leg of her jeans up to expose her ankle.

Her ankle, currently sporting a thick black band with what appears to be a large battery pack attached to it.

“Uh, Clarke I’m not sure I understand.”

“I’m on house arrest. Well, house and work arrest, I guess.”

Lexa blinks once, not fully grasping the situation.

“I got into some trouble, nothing serious. I didn’t hurt anyone or anything. I just. I can’t go anywhere other than my house or work… for now. I have an appeal hearing in a few weeks.”

“Oh my god. I thought you were just feeding me a line.” Lexa chuckles and leans against the wall. “So, I’m crushing on a criminal? That’s what you’re telling me?”

Clarke looks up at her with a devilish smile. “Crushing?”

Oh fuck.

Lexa takes pause. The cats out of the bag. Just go with it Woods.

“Well yeah, hasn’t it been obvious?”

“You mean, like how you’ve never given me your name, or any type of way to contact you?” She lifts an eyebrow in question and Lexa basically falls to her knees.

Lexa takes a moment to scratch the back of her neck, in what she hopes is a cool demeanor. “I wasn’t sure you were interested. You flirt a lot with, you know, everyone.” She shrugs her shoulders and scuffs the toe of her shoe on the floor, breaking eye contact.

“Tips.” Clarke says simply. “They only pay me minimum wage here, you know, being a hardened criminal and all. I gotta pay the bills somehow.” She chuckles and suddenly Lexa feels the other girl’s hand on her bicep. “Lex,” Lexa would normally scowl at the nickname, but it sounds so sweet coming from the blonde’s raspy voice that she’s decidedly changed her outlook on nicknames. She meets Clarke’s eyes and sees sincerity. “I really would love to go out for a drink with you some time. Maybe just give me a few weeks? Or more, depending on the outcome of my hearing? And in the meantime, can I have your number?”

[onlydreamofmysoul]

Wanna Be Kissed (Wolfstar)

Okay! So I’ve decided to start bringing some of my fics from Ao3 over here, mostly because I think it makes it a lil easier for people to find! Here’s the first one anyways! (Side note - any remus/sirius transferred will be wolfstar, not coops)

Sirius Black has never kissed a girl. In fact, Sirius Black has never kissed anyone, ever.

It’s not that the opportunity hadn’t presented itself, because Merlin, it had. Sirius was infamous in Hogwarts, the brooding Black boy, the first to not be sorted into Slytherin. The boy who ran away from home. The leather jacket wearing, wild haired, grey eyed mystery man.

Apparently girls were into that, if Sirius’s friends were to be trusted.

“What about Lucy Lancaster?” Peter whispered as the Marauders sat curled up in a corner, their corner, of the Gryffindor common room.

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, looking across the room to the blonde girl in question. “The fourth year?”

Peter nodded, “Yeah, I mean, she’s only one year younger than us and she’s really pretty and smart.” He gushed.

Sirius looked over at his friend. “I think she sounds more like your kind of girl Wormy.” He said, standing up and moving to sit closer to the fire, grabbing his book off the coffee table as he went. He curled up on the cushy red sofa, but had barely opened the book to the latest page when James Potter himself flopped down next to him.

“I know there’s someone you fancy.”

Sirius didn’t look up from his book. “Do you now?” He didn’t need to look at James to know his friend was flushing a little red.

“Okay well, I don’t know.” He admitted. “But I do suspect.”

Sirius met his eyes, amused. “There’s a fair bit of a difference between knowing and suspecting Prongs. For example, I know that you’re one hundred percent head-over-heels in love with Lily Evans, but I only suspect that you were the one who put itching powder in Lucius Malfoy’s quidditch robes.”

“It wasn’t me.” James grumbled and continued when Sirius looked at him disbelievingly. “Really it wasn’t. That’s not my style… anymore.”

Sirius laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “Yeah I know, Evans wouldn’t approve.”

“Yeah but also I just think we’re a bit too mature for stuff like itching powder when our time could be much more productively dedicated to tasks such as perfecting the map.”

Both boys sighed longingly. The map, their pride and joy. It wasn’t quite perfect yet - they still had a few passages to fill in, but it was getting pretty close.

James shifted in his seat to face Sirius properly, and Sirius mirrored his movements.

“In all seriousness though Pads, you know you can talk to me, right?”

Sirius smiled at his friend in a way that he could only pray was reassuring and nodded. “Of course I know James. I promise if there was anything to know, I would tell you.”

James nodded and stood up. “Good. Okay, I’ll uh, leave you to your reading.”

James retreated back to the others and Sirius watched him go, watched him sit down next to Remus. Watched as Remus offered him a chocolate frog.

Sirius hadn’t been lying to James, unless you counted a lie of omission. There really was nothing to tell - nothing had happened per se. Nothing had happened… recently. Because Sirius Black had been in love with Remus Lupin for a long time.

Remus-motherfucking-Lupin. The bane of Sirius’s existence. The love of Sirius’s life. He had known for years. Known that the love he felt for James and Peter was very, very different to the love he felt for Remus. He didn’t imagine James kissing him. He didn’t take a deep breath whenever Peter hugged him, trying to memorise his scent. So yeah, Sirius has never kissed anyone, simply because it wouldn’t be fair. Not to anyone. Not when Sirius’s heart was no longer his own to give away.

“Pads, we’re playing exploding snap, do you wanna join?” Remus called from where they were all laughing and Sirius sighed, already standing up. He’d never been able to say no to his tawny haired friend.

“Deal me in.”

****

“Fuck!”

Sirius’s head whipped up at the sound of Remus cursing. “Moons?” He called, swinging his legs off the side of his bed and drawing back his curtains, “Are you okay?”

Remus sat on his own bed, a dripping mug in his hand. “Yeah sorry,” he grumbled. “I’m just a twat, I spilled my tea all over myself.”

Sirius but his lip laughing even as he grabbed his wand and spelled away the puddle on the floor. Remus caught the back of his t-shirt and pulled it off over his head in one swift movement that took Sirius’s breath away.

“I cast a cleaning charm.” Sirius stuttered uselessly, his eyes focused on Remus’s lightly tanned skin, the faint whisper of shining scars that moved as Remus stood up.

“I know.” Remus shrugged and Sirius just gazed at those powerful shoulders. “But I still feel it, you know? I just need a new shirt.”

Sirius nodded helplessly as Remus walked to the trunk at the end of his bed and pulled out another shirt. Sirius thanked Merlin that the other boy was faced away from him because there was no way he could disguise his gawking at the dips of Remus’s shoulder blades, the curved run of his spine. Fuck, Sirius would give anything to trace his fingers over that soft skin.

Remus tugged the shirt over his head and crawled back onto his bed leisurely. Sirius’s heart rate was anything but. Everyone assumed that Remus was super scrawny, and they had been right, at least at first. When Remus had arrived at Hogwarts, that’s exactly what he had been - a stick thin little boy with big caramel eyes. But a wonderful combination of a solid three meals a day, a growth spurt and having to stay fit in order to help him recover from his monthly adventures had resulted in Remus Lupin looking like he starred in wet dreams.

(Never mind the fact that he starred in all of Sirius’s dreams).

“G’night guys.” Peter called from behind his curtains, the rest of the Marauders chorused a sleepy response and once again, the dorm room was silent, unlike Sirius’s brain. No, his traitorous thoughts just kept thinking about what it would be like to make Remus shout ‘fuck’ again in a non-tea related incident.

(They were some pretty good thoughts).

****

“Hey Sirius.”

Sirius looked up from his breakfast to see Anna O’ Connell sliding onto the bench next to him.

“Hi?”

“There’s a trip to Hogsmeade today.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Sirius couldn’t quite decipher the look on Anna’s face at his response.

“So… are you going?” She asked, reaching forward and touching Sirius’s wrist lightly. Sirius looked over at the other Marauders who had all stopped eating to listen in.

“Yeah we’re all going.” Sirius said nodding his head at the others. “Aren’t we lads?”

Sirius could see James looking at him with wide eyes and a ‘what the hell are you doing?’ expression and Remus wasn’t looking at him at all. Peter looked nervously between Anna and Sirius for a moment before nodding. “Yeah we are.”

“Oh right, yeah okay.” Anna said, beginning to stand up. “I guess I might see you there so.”

Sirius shrugged. “I guess so.”

Anna walked away and before she was even out of hearing range, James punched his shoulder not-so-lightly. “Mate, what the hell?”

Sirius rubber his throbbing arm. “What was that for?”

“She was obviously asking you out!”

Sirius choked on his pumpkin juice. “Well apparently it wasn’t that obvious, cause I didn't know about it.”

Remus finally met his eyes, wincing slightly. “It was pretty blatant.”

Sirius sighed and slumped forward, resting his head in his hands. “Oh my god I’m so dumb.”

James nodded in agreement. “Yeah you are. But if you went after her now and just explained what happened I’m sure she’ll still go out with you.”

Sirius shook his head. “No I don’t want to go out with her. I just wish I could tell when people are asking me out. I feel like it’s probably something I should be aware of.”

Remus smirked and Sirius’s gut twisted. He loved that little twitch of the other boys lips. “Probably.”

Peter patted Sirius’s shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry about it Pads, I’m sure you’ll get it the next time.”

Sirius just stared down at his now-cold toast. “Yeah.” He mumbled. “Next time.”

Sirius sat down on his bed and fell back dramatically, staring up at the rafters of the dorm. His radar for girls asking him out had not improved, according to his friends a grand total of five girls approached him that week alone. He had only known one of them asked him out on a date.

(That was only because she said “Hey, wanna go on a date with me?”)

He had politely declined.

Sirius sighed and grabbed his little red ball he kept on his locker and threw it up in the air as he lay on the bed, finding the steady rise and fall soothing. Most of Gryffindor, most of the castle really, were all outdoors enjoying the first properly sunny day in a long while. He knew if he looked out the window, he could probably spot James, Peter and Remus all sitting under the oak tree they tended to frequent.

There was a knock on the door. “Sirius?” Remus asked, poking his head in.

Or maybe Sirius wouldn’t find them all outside after all.

“Hey.” Sirius said, stopping throwing the ball but not sitting up.

Remus lay down next to him. On the small bed, their shoulders were pressing together and Sirius could feel the heat radiating off the other boy.

“Why aren’t you outside?”

Sirius shrugged. “Just wanted to think I guess.”

“Will I leave you alone?”

If it had been anyone else asking? Yes, Sirius wanted to be alone. But for Remus?

“No, you can stay.”

Sirius resumed throwing the ball, every so often passing it to Remus to give him a go. They lay side by side in silence for several minutes before Remus spoke again.

“Hey Pads? Could I… ask you something?”

Sirius turned his head slightly just for a second to glance at him. “You can ask me anything.”

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Remus biting his lip for a moment as if choosing his words carefully.

“Why do you… why do you never say yes to any of those girls?”

Sirius’s heart stuttered for a moment but he took a steadying breath. “I just don’t fancy any of them.”

“But isn’t that the point of dating? To see if you could maybe fancy someone?”

Sirius laughed nervously. “I guess I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been on a date.”

Remus fiddled with the fraying cuff of his jumper. “Yeah me neither.”

They were quiet again for a moment before Remus started talking again. “Do you think you’ll ever ask one of them out?”

“The girls?”

“Yeah.”

Sirius shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wouldn’t be fair.”

Remus huffed our a breath. “Come on Pads, that’s a non-answer.”

Sirius rolled his eyes at the typical Remus response, but his lips twitched. “I don’t fancy girls.”

He held his breath, waiting for Remus’s response. He didn’t think it would be bad exactly - he knew his friends! He knew he could trust them, he knew they loved him but sometimes no matter how much logic dictates otherwise, a tiny inkling of doubt can creep in.

“I’m not so sure I do either.”

Sirius wasn’t sure what kind of response he was expecting but it definitely was not that. He turned his head to see Moony already staring at him. They didn’t say anything - they didn’t need to, the look that flashed between them said enough. A quiet understanding. Remus’s lips quirked and Sirius’s eyes followed the movement before they resumed speaking.

“So is there a guy you fancy?”

Fuck this was dangerous territory. But Sirius couldn’t lie, not to Remus.

“Yeah.”

This time it was Remus who rolled his eyes. “Wow that was so descriptive.”

Sirius’s eyebrow arched. “It was a yes or no question.”

Remus huffed. “Fine, fine, don’t tell me.”

Sirius bit his lip. And rolled onto his side to face Remus. The taller boy did the same. “I don’t just fancy him, I’m in love with him.”

Remus’s breathing sounded uneven. “He must be incredible if you feel that way.”

It felt like there was an elephant standing on Sirius’s chest. “Merlin yes. He’s kind and thoughtful and I could get lost in his eyes forever. He runs his fingers through his hair when he’s thinking, when he’s studying I know he bites the top of his quill even though he denies it and when he’s nervous he plays with the cuffs on his jumper and it’s so cute and I -“

Sirius cut off as Remus’s hands stilled. Hands that had been fiddling with the cuff of his jumper.

“-And he’s one of my best friends in the entire world. He’s brave and strong and the best person I know. I would do anything for him.”

Remus stared into his eyes for, Sirius couldn’t even tell how long. It could have been seconds or hours but to be frank, Sirius couldn’t give a fuck either way. Remus’s honey eyes had flecks of dark brown in them and all Sirius wanted to do was map the splash of freckles on his nose. Remus bit his lip so hard Sirius was nearly worried he’d draw blood before his eyes became steadier, more decided. Sirius watched as Remus’s chest rose unsteadily as he took a breath.

“He’d do anything for you too.”

And fuck if Sirius didn’t want to cry. Or jump around laughing. Or shout with delight from the tower. But most of all, he wanted Remus.

Cautiously, so cautiously, he reached his hand out and traced the cheekbones he had so often admired, Remus shivering lightly under his touch. His hand dropped lower as he ran his thumb over Remus’s ever so slightly parted lips, able to feel his hot breath on his skin.

“Are you ever going to kiss me or am I going to have to do it myself?”

“Merlin, I love you.” Sirius breathed before doing exactly that. He leaned down and connected their lips, at first, just a bare brush, Sirius was being so careful, waiting to see if Moony would decide that, actually no, he wouldn’t be making out with one of his best mates today, but that never happened. Instead, Remus tangled one hand in Sirius’s hair and wrapped the other tightly around his waist.

“Kiss me properly you wanker.” Remus demanded and Sirius smirked before pressing his lips against Remus’s and for a moment, that was all he knew. The world could have exploded but all Sirius would have registered was the hot force of Remus’s lips on his own, the fingers curling in his hair and the hand pressing steadily into his waist.

They pulled away gasping, Sirius looking at Remus’s swollen lips with a smug delight. He had always wondered what Remus would look like after a good snog. Now he knew.

“I love you too.” Remus said simply, cupping Sirius’s jaw in his hand and caressing thumb over Sirius’s cheekbone. Sirius’s heart just about exploded and he quickly leaned down to reconnect their lips, gasping as he felt Moony’s leg wrap tightly around his waist and he pressed himself impossibly closer.

“I love you.” He murmured against Remus’s lips. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Sirius has never kissed a girl. But he has kissed someone. The best someone in his opinion. The only someone really. Remus-motherfucking-Lupin; no longer the bane of Sirius’s existence.

(But still the love of his life).

[y0itsbri]

Falling for You

ballet au one-shot for @gallavichthings 's a.u.gust

summary: dance instructor mickey! ian keeps messing up the lifts with the dancers, and mickey cannot have his girls injured because of this himbo, even if he is hot. he makes ian stay after class to practice on him -- and he swears there's no ulterior motives. but they're so close and his hands are all over him and he can feel his breath and it is so unprofessional but fuck it.

words: 2k

Mickey had a new guy in his class that wasn't doing... well... by any standards. Alright, the dude sucked. Mickey had been a ballet instructor for several years and not once has he met a dancer as uncoordinated and unbalanced as Ian fucking Gallagher.

Somehow, Ian had managed to not only rip the ballet barre off of the goddamn wall in his attempt at a grand plie, fallen flat on his face after pas de chat gone wrong, but he also managed to launch his fellow ballerinas onto the floor instead of the air.

He was a disaster.

Mickey had better shit to do with his time at the studio than patch up his dancers, and studio, after Gallagher's classes. Svetlana's father would have his ass if she got injured on his watch. And Ian being the only guy in their class, there was no way for him not to share the front-and-center spotlight with Svetlana.

Yeah, Mickey wasn't letting Ian any-fucking-where near Svet if he could help it. At least in his current state. Dude was a piece of work.

Mickey figured he would be a lot more upset about all this if Ian's apologetic puppy dog eyes weren't so goddamn convincing.

Fucking Gallagher.

--

"Ayo, Mands! Come help me with this!" Mickey called, echoing in the studio, now nearly empty besides the Milkovich siblings and a six-foot-tall ginger man looking both utterly clueless and utterly terrified. Mickey was utterly hopeless.

Mandy popped in the doorframe, sliding her shoes on but leaving them untied.

"Can't! I got actual shit to do! I don't live and breathe the studio like your sorry ass. No offense, Ian, my brother is great, please stay. Full offense, Mickey, get a fucking life!"

Mickey was left speechless and slightly embarrassed by Mandy's outburst and only managed to flip her off before she was out the door.

"Charming sister you got there," Ian let a quiet laugh slip before schooling his expression at Mickey's lack of amusement.

Mickey sighed and rubbed his hands down the length of his face for a moment. Ian and Mickey held eye contact a bit longer before Mickey abruptly straightened up and clapped his hands together. The noise startled Ian from his own amused trance.

"Alright, Clifford, how do you feel about private lessons for a little bit until you're not tripping over your own feet?"

Ian stepped forward to argue, but, proving Mickey's point, stumbled over the shoes on the floor in front of him. He didn't miss the way that Mickey's mouth quirked up on the side.

"Can't afford extra classes," Ian shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"It's on me," Mickey swiped his top lip. He didn't miss the way that Ian's gaze lingered on his mouth,"Kinda need you..." really want you, "to, uh, look good..." as if he doesn't already, fucking red-headed alien-looking motherfucker, "on the floor..." of my bedroom, goddamn it, Mick, get it together! "the, uh, dance floor."

Ian paused, considering the way that Mickey was stumbling over his words in a way that one might call endearing, another might call the-worst-fucking-experience-of-his-life.

"I'll do it."

Do me. Seriously, go drink some water, oh my god.

Mickey literally took a sip from his water bottle, hoping that it would at least calm his nerves. He was a professional!

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You free after class?" A pause, "To work on some skills, I mean."

"It's a date," Ian smirked, leaning down to pick up his shoes from the ground in front of him. By the time he was upright again, Mickey had already started walking away, but the blush on his cheeks and the back of his neck could be spotted from a mile away. He was utterly fucked.

--

Mickey yawned and got up from his stretching position on the floor. He walked over to the stereo, systematically knocking his dancer's feet on his way over until they were all turned out and pointed.

"No Orange Boy today?" Svetlana asked, meeting Mickey's eyes with a challenging stare.

Mickey ignored the chorus of "He's so hot!" "Have you seen his arms?" and "Ian's the nicest!" from the rest of the girls.

Svetlana raised her eyebrow in question and Mickey's defenses flew out the window. This goddamn power dynamic was going to be the death of him.

"I put him on private lessons until he's no longer a disruption to the class," he shrugged.

"Aww," one brunette pouted.

"Disruption to class or disruption to tiny bulge in your pants?" Svetlana smirked, earning some scandalized gasps from the other dancers.

Mickey flipped her off, "The fucker made me take out a greater insurance policy with all his accidents, don't be fucking absurd."

A blonde nodded understandingly from the back of the class, "My ankle is still a little funky from the last lift we tried."

Mickey held his arms out in a display of I-told-you-so and Svetlana rolled her eyes.

"Great!" Mickey clapped his hands together, earning the full attention of his class as they hurried to their feet, "Now that all the hot drama is outta the air, let's do a quick warm up combo across the floor. Chasse step pas de bourree double pirouette step arabesque, in 5, 6, 7, 8..."

--

Ian had been waiting outside the studio for the last ten minutes of class, more-so watching his instructor shift around than paying attention to what the dancers were actually doing. That's probably what got him into his current predicament, and he couldn't decide whether that was a curse or a blessing. Mickey's arms flexed as he pointed across the room to call out someone's weak spot.

Yup, it was a blessing.

Oh shit, Mickey was looking his way. Was this a double sided mirror? No, of course not. Why would there be a double sided mirror? Oh, Mickey was definitely staring at him. Fuck. Wait, did he just wink? No way, he must've just blinked. With one eye. Yeah, totally normal. Nothing to overthink, Ian.

Get it together!

--

Mickey dismissed his class five minutes early and it had nothing to do with the Jolly Ginger Giant standing outside his studio.

While most of his dancers wordlessly accepted the easy out, Svetlana stayed back to taunt. "Have fun with private lessons," she sneered, jerking off an invisible cock.

"Choke on it," Mickey retorted tossing her warm-up jacket at her face, which she swiftly caught.

Svetlana turned and made a show of looking Ian up and down, his cheeks turning pink under her intense gaze. She faced Mickey head on, "You will be vegetable stew by the time this man is done with you."

The fuck does that mean?

Sometimes Mickey thought that Svetlana spoke in riddles just to mess with him. He blamed it on the Russian accent, never mind he was part Ukrainian himself. The languages were similar, but not identical, fuck you very much.

But, damn, forget that, Gallagher looked good. He was wearing his usual white tank top and grey sweatpants, but Mickey never got the opportunity to openly ogle in class. Not that that was what he was doing now.

Ian returned the long look appreciatively before stepping closer and Mickey snapped back into professionalism, well as far as professionalism goes, Milkovich-style.

He turned his back on the bane of his pathetic existence and snapped a quick but polite, "Get your shoes on and we can get started."

"Oh, right."

That seemed to be enough to get the gears in Ian's head going again as he dropped his bag to the floor, echoing in the truly empty studio, and dropping down onto the floor himself to secure his ballet shoes, which may as well be clown shoes for as big as his feet were. Mickey fit into the same brand as the girls, but he had to order special for Gallagher.

"Thanks for doing this, Mickey."

Mickey. The way that this man said his name was making him feel all sorts of flustered that he would most definitely deny.

"Mandy said you don't usually make exceptions."

"Gotta catch you up to speed or you're gonna be dancing with the 5 year-olds, man."

Ian tilted his head considering.

Mickey frowned, "Don't do it."

Ian smirked and Mickey had to look away as a grin and blush creeped up on his own face.

"Alright, so we'll start you off with the basics."

Mickey went through their normal class routine, but broke it down slowly, pausing to explain certain positions in details he couldn't afford to spend time with in class, specifically how not to fall. It should have been fairly obvious in his opinion, but Ian still managed somehow. The first few times, he was on the floor before Mickey even knew he was going down.

But the third, Mickey made a mistake. Mickey instinctively reached out to catch him.

As soon as he realized where his hands were, he pulled them off like he'd been burned, which he may have well been. He pulled his gaze to his feet, studying the floor while he composed himself.

"Mickey," Ian waited until he looked up, and then he spoke so quietly, "You can touch me."

And what made things worse was that Ian's dazzling eyes left little to the imagination. They both knew where this was going, and the moment was too intense too quick. The longer their eyes held, the hotter Mickey felt his neck grow.

"Ya know," Ian stepped closer. "To fix my positions..."

Mickey swallowed, "Uh, I think we're done for today."

He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. He never meant them to begin with. But if Ian stayed any longer, Mickey was going to climb him like a tree and that really wasn't under his personal code of professionalism, no matter how loose those terms may be to begin with. It was getting late anyways, he reasoned with himself.

"What about the lifts? That's the important part, right?" Ian questioned, eyes pleading like he would die without this one skill being taught to him by his oh-so-unprofessional instructor.

Mickey sighed. Ya know what? Fuck it.

Mickey sauntered over to Ian, pressed his back to Ian's front, and grabbed one of Ian's massive hands and placed it on his own waist.

Ian gave an experimental squeeze and Mickey softened in his grip.

Ridiculous.

"We're not doing the lift are we?" Ian murmured breathily, hot air making the hairs on the back of Mickey's neck tingle.

"What do you think, Firecrotch?" Mickey pushed his weight back into Ian's chest, which would be the second mistake of the day.

Ian toppled over backwards, landing with a painful sounding thud and sending Mickey down on top of him before he rolled off the the side with a groan.

Ian started laughing and Mickey was concerned. Was this idiot actually fucking concussed this time? He wasn't sure how he would explain this to his insurance company.

Mickey straddled Ian's lap, gently slapping his face, "Are you good, man? Alive?"

"Never better." Ian was still smiling like an absolute goof.

Mickey raised an eyebrow in concern.

"Seriously, I just can't play things cool," Ian raised his hips to grind against Mickey's ass, "Obviously."

"You're an idiot," Mickey rolled his eyes, and all Ian could do was grin and reach up towards Mickey's neck, pulling his down until their lips almost touched, sharing breaths and excitement.

"Maybe," another breath, "But I still got you to fall for me."

It was Mickey's turn to laugh, more of a raspy exhale than anything. His "fuck you" was almost lost between them as they fell together at last.

(side note: this was the lift that they were going to do, so i feel like the hand on the waist makes sense -- gotta have a visual lmao)

[simmerandwrite]

strangers - steve rogers x reader

Warnings: mentions of sexual harassment and non-consensual touching, swearing.

Word count: 4870

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: When your subway ride home takes a turn for the worst, you hope a stranger in a coffee shop will help you out.

Notes: If you saw a snippet of this the other day, here’s the full thing! I wanted to tackle some ‘in need of saving’ tropes and this just sort of happened. I’ve never posted straight up on Tumblr before but I’m a bit lacking in my experience with reader fics, so I figured this was a good place to share it. no beta, any mistakes are my own! If you like it, let me know - thanks for reading!

—

Steve Rogers liked his days off. Not that he had a set schedule week to week anyway but when things aligned correctly, he could do whatever he wanted. No world saving, no training, no report writing, no meetings.

He had scoped out a small little coffee shop in Brooklyn where he liked to spend these quiet afternoons. Usually with a book in hand (he had so many books to catch up on) or some music loaded to his phone (Nat was currently educating him on 90s punk rock) or a notebook and pencil. People watching served as wonderful inspiration to sketch.

He sipped his cappuccino, eyes tipped downward at the book ahead of him on the table. He was interrupted just moments later as someone dropped into the chair across from him.

Now, Steve wasn’t intentionally hiding out at this hole-in-the-wall cafe. But he did put on his laughable disguise still - a beaten up Yankees cap and his prescription-less thick framed glasses. He liked the anonymity. That didn’t always stop people from recognizing him.

As he opened his mouth to question the person who was suddenly joining him for coffee, she slid her phone across the table to him. Her hand shook. His eyebrows flexed into a curious frown as he looked at the screen displaying a plainly typed note:

‘Do you mind if I sit someone is following me home sorry to disturb you’

—

As if your day hadn’t been absolutely terrible enough, you spotted the gremlin of a man on the subway watching you again. You knew he worked somewhere in the same office building as you because he always trailed a few paces behind you when pushing through the revolving doors in the lobby. It wasn’t uncommon to see the same people on the same subway line at the same time every day, but this man’s presence had become an unwanted downside.

He was always there. Worse than that, he seemed to be always watching you. Today, it was even more obvious that he was following you.

When that thought first occurred to you, it had been really easy to shrug off. He was just a guy taking the subway. But when he happened to be on the later train with you one day, an uncomfortable feeling settled in your stomach.

And now, as the car was filling up even more after the second stop in DUMBO, he had moved to stand and put himself even closer to you.

You had been going through so many Next Steps. God, that phrase was the bane of your existence. Next steps, next steps..

Maybe you could tell him to fuck off. You could make an appointment with Leanna in HR and see if there is a way to figure out the name of this guy - though he didn’t work for your company so that was likely going to be a dead end. You could start taking the bus to the village before grabbing the train. Maybe you could Uber home some days instead of taking the subway. Not that you could afford that but this guy was..

You stiffened immediately.

This guy was touching you. In the midst of the crowded subway car, he was pressed against you entirely. And was he.. His hips were moving against your leg and.. Wait, that was two hands on your hips now.. Hot breath whispered against your neck and -

Fuck.

You threw yourself through the mob as the train came to a stop. With hurried feet you ran onto the platform and up the stairs, doing your best to weave through the flow of people, like a fish trying to make it upstream. You tried not to be obvious but as you snapped your head over your shoulders to look back, you saw him there again.

He was smirking. No, snarling.

Next steps, next steps.

You joined a sea of people crossing the street, taking your first left to try and steer yourself into a particular direction. You were still a far walk from your apartment but with this man on your heels, you didn’t want to lead him anywhere near there.

You grabbed your phone from your jacket pocket, unlocking it quickly and scrolling through the contacts. Surely there had to be someone you could call but even then, what could they do? Offer advice?

It didn’t occur to you until then but would it be valuable to call the cops?

Despite the late day sunlight, you suddenly felt very aware of the emptiness of the sidewalk on that side street. You needed to be around people. It definitely wasn’t logical to be anywhere near alone with this guy and -

It sounded like his footsteps were getting closer. With a panicked gulp, you yanked on the door of a little hole-in-the-wall cafe. Your eyes scanned the space quickly once you were inside. You probably shouldn’t sit alone, you couldn’t run to the bathroom if you aren’t sure where it is or if you needed a key. There were too many variables.

You needed something. Next steps..

You spotted someone sitting at a small table near the window and without thinking, you sent out a silent prayer to whoever might be listening and you rushed over. The man was clearly alone, a half consumed ceramic mug of coffee sitting to the right of his book.

Swallowing hard, you quickly typed on your phone and slid it across the table to him after you sat. You tried your best to stay very calm and hoped that he would play along. God, what if he didn’t play along and -

Behind you, the door chimed once more and you desperately wanted to see if it was that man - if the gremlin had followed you inside. You clasped your hands together in your lap and forced a smile on as you looked at the stranger sitting across from you.

Despite not knowing him, there was a familiarity about his appearance. Behind his thick glasses, soft blue eyes searched you carefully. His eyes flicked to the screen once more, stiffening in his chair as he looked past you towards the rest of the cafe.

With his right hand, he reached into the inside pocket of his coat and took out a small notebook and a pen. He scribbled something quickly and turned the page towards you.

Are you hurt?

You shook your head quickly. He offered you a tight smile and wrote once more.

Buzzcut, grey jacket?

Your eyes blew open wide and you tilted your head into a nod.

I’m Steve

He flipped the notebook closed and extended his hand across the table, palm facing up. He leaned forward just slightly, meeting your eyes with a reassuring smile. “Play along.”

Your eyes flicked to his hand and you slowly unclamped your own, grabbing his on the table instead. He was doing an impressive job splitting his attention between you and his surroundings, eyes scanning the room. He squeezed your hand very gently, brushing his thumb against your knuckles.

“Tell me about your day.”

You sucked in a hard breath. You weren’t entirely sure what his strategy was but something told you this guy was in your corner. Though despite that, you could feel another set of eyes on you.

“Uh,” you started quietly, letting the air escape your lungs. “Surprisingly, I didn’t think it could get worse before I got on the subway after work. I had a review meeting that was not great and we had a free catered lunch that was not vegetarian friendly. Missed an important email and deadline and… well, here I am whining about it and interrupting your day. Listen, I’m going to-

You moved to stand up but Steve shook his head, grasping your hand. “Give it a few more minutes, I think he’ll give up and leave.”

His words were casual but had an authoritative tone. Once more his eyes left you, looking towards the front of the cafe. He raised his free hand and motioned to one of the baristas. You weren’t certain if this was the type of place who served people at their seats but clearly he had a comfortable rapport as the young girl approached with a warm smile on her face.

“Hey Tia, could I get another?”

“Anything for you?” The barista turned her head as she asked, pony tail moving from side to side.

“Uhm.” You paused and thought. You certainly had no desire to even consider a coffee order when you felt someone’s linger gaze boring into you. “A decaf con panna, if that’s possible.” The girl confirmed it was with a nod then left the table side.

“Con panna?” Steve’s lips pulled into a curious smirk. Something about his smile calmed you.

“Espresso with whipped cream on top,” you answered. “Short and sweet.”

“I’ll have to try that next time.”

Steve sure had a soothing smile. When his thumb stopped tracing against your palm - when did that even start? - you felt an empty sadness about the loss. Wow, what did that even say about your standards when a stranger was brushing his thumb against your hand that you were so grateful for? Well, it was a thousand times better than someone rubbing his -

You winced at the memory, biting down as you clutched your bottom lip between your teeth. Though that shameful feeling hadn’t disappeared, you managed to keep it at bay. But now, it seemed to have left an image you were unable to blink away.

The sweet smell of whipped cream and the shuffling of paper cups broke you from your trance. You reached for your bag to fish out a few dollars but when you looked up, Steve was waving a hand to stop you.

It’s not that you didn’t appreciate his kindness. You did. You really, really did. But given the last half hour, you still had a hard time settling your nervous mind.

“Thanks, Tia.” Steve’s eyes were jumping around the place as the barista grabbed the cash he offered. A loud stomp of footsteps drew their attention as the Subway Gremlin saddled up beside the table.

“Sorry to be a bother, darlin’ - any chance I can borrow your phone?”

You couldn’t help but look at him. Though his words were directed at the barista, he made a point to glance over at you.

You felt Steve’s hands grip yours. When you looked towards him, his eyes were very carefully watching the man. How did he manage to -

“Sorry, we don’t have a dedicated line available to customers.” Tia politely shook her head, pointing towards the door. “There’s a CityBank up the street that can help you, I’m sure.” She shrugged and headed back to the coffee counter.

The man stood still, opening his mouth to argue.

Steve sat back, shoulders broad and steady. “Did you need directions there? I think it’s just two blocks. Maybe 500 paces.” His tone was flat. “Just out the door and you’ll be on your way.”

You kept your eyes on Steve. He kept his stare directed at the man. Finally, after what felt like hours of waiting, the man moved his feet. He turned on his heel, though not before stopping to look at you again.

“I will see you tomorrow, dar-

Steve released your hand and pushed his chair back, standing quickly and grasping the man’s shoulder.

Steve towered over him. “You have five seconds.” The man pulled away from Steve’s grip then finally stomped away. You kept your eyes tightly shut until you heard the chime of the bell indicating the movement of the door. Then, you collapsed onto your arms on the edge of the table.

Steve, meanwhile, headed to the door and kept watch for a few more moments to ensure the man actually departed from the area. Then, he stopped at the counter and exchanged a few words with Tia before returning you.

You were still doing your best to encourage the floor to open up and swallow you whole. How had this even escalated? The worst part was your mind seemed clouded with doubt. This man, you hadn’t even interacted with him before. Why was he suddenly so invested in you? To a point where he might follow you home? Were you just another target or had this been intentional?

You considered yourself a fairly observant person and yet..

You twisted your hands together in your lap and tried to consider what was going to happen now. Next steps, next steps..

“Hey.” Steve returned to his chair. Your eyes flicked up towards him, noticing he was sliding a bottle of water towards you. Your sad little espresso and whipped cream treat was deflated next to it. “Are you okay?”

You reached for the water bottle, twisting the cap open and taking a long drink. “I don’t know.” Chewing on your bottom lip, you shook your head. “No, actually. I’m not. It somehow feels like my skin is on fire and my lungs are failing me and I’m sweaty but I’m not and - and -

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Steve spoke so calmly and evenly. “Just take a slow breath with me, okay?” You closed your eyes once more and followed his instructions as he walked you through a few breathing exercises. “That’s great, you’re doing great-

When he stopped speaking so quickly, you opened one eye to look over at him. His cheeks were a warm shade of pink and his mouth was twisted into a frown. “What?”

“It just occurred to me I didn’t get your name.” He paused, as if to consider his next thought. “Although, given what just happened with that man, you are under no obligation to tell me anything about yourself. I just.. I’d like to help.”

His genuine concern for you was surprising. You allowed a small smile to stretch across your face. “You’re very nice, Steve.”

You gave him your name and he smiled back, repeating it to himself. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Your smile turned downwards when you looked towards your phone. “I should probably get going. Again, I’m really sorry for dragging you into this mess but I appreciate the… solace.” You took a deep breath and pushed your chair back, pausing to tip the lukewarm espresso into your mouth. “I owe you one.”

You winced when you heard yourself and sighed. Why did you say that? This stranger, this friendly, broad shouldered, tall, handsome stranger who’s day you interrupted, did not need your weird backhanded flirting. In fact, even though every signal in your brain seemed on edge after, well, everything, the only thing that seemed to ground you now was the kindness of Steve. So you tried to will yourself not to ruin it with any additional commentary.

You weren’t entirely sure what had driven you down this particular street into this particular cafe and towards this particular man. But, you were certainly grateful. “Actually, do they have gift cards here? I’d love to buy you one to say thank you and -

“Are you going to walk? Wherever you’re going right now?” When you looked over, you saw that Steve had stood, too. You saw his eyes move towards the door and the far windows up the street where the man from the subway had gone. “I don’t want to overstep but I hope you’ll let me walk you home. Or far enough away to have cleared his radar.”

“I feel like I’ve already wasted enough of your time, Steve.” You truly felt worse and worse for interrupting his afternoon.

“Please, I insist.” Steve tilted his head, half a smirk on his lips. “You just said you owe me one, so. I’m cashing in the favour.”

“The favour repayment you’re cashing in is.. you doing me another favour? Do you know how favours are supposed to work?” Admittedly, you knew you would feel a lot safer having someone walk home with you. And something about Steve made you feel very secure, his presence like a comforting shield.

“C’mon,” Steve replied with a laugh, nudging his head towards the door.

When you stepped onto the sidewalk, you stopped to think. “Let’s go this way.” You turned to the right and Steve followed, staying on your shoulder closest to the street. You walked in a comfortable silence - which made you nervous at first. Then, as your steps fell into a pattern, the quiet soothed you.

You pushed your hands into the pockets of your jacket as you turned down the next block. You looked over at Steve, who turned his head towards you as you shifted. “You didn’t ask anything else about the man.. Who followed me.”

A quiet hum came from Steve. “I didn’t think I should. You seemed shaken up enough.” He shrugged, peering down at you through his glasses. “If you want to talk about it..”

“I work in this big office building in Midtown. The Clifton building?”

Steve motioned his hand diagonally. “Little bagel place downstairs? That’s right down from The Avengers tower, isn’t it?”

You nodded along. Right. Stark Tower was The Avengers Tower, now. It was the most iconic landmark on that block. “Yes. Actually, I work on the 40th floor, which makes for a great angle to see Iron Man coming in.” Your smile was fleeting when you continued on. “It’s a huge building. I work in human resources for this pharmaceutical company.. But there’s a law firm in there, too. Insurance companies, start ups.. Hundreds of people in and out all day long. Yet, that man on the subway has managed to..” You stopped yourself before your chest got too tight. “Let’s just say I’ve seen him around before.”

“Do you know his name?”

“That’s the thing!” You couldn’t help but laugh now, shaking your head in dumbfounded confusion. “No. I have no idea who he is. But he often gets on the same subway line as me, watches me from across the crowd then today..” You stopped and dragged a hand down your face. “It’s a sad truth but I would say most of my friends have been.. Touched inappropriately on the subway before. I guess it’s a weird right of passage or something..”

“Wait - what?” Steve stopped in his tracks and reached his hand out to grab yours. You stopped and looked up at his eyes, somehow both soft and dark with concern. “He touched you? What do you mean?”

You raised an eyebrow, wondering if his ask was authentic. When you saw the disappointment in his face, eyes flooded with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint, you realized his reaction was genuine. You opened your mouth to explain but suddenly it seemed impossible to find the words.

Steve let go of your hand as he absorbed your lack of response and reached for his phone. “You can file a police report, right?”

“No, no.” You stopped him, placing your hand on his as he held his phone. “Trust me, that’s just paperwork that goes nowhere. Without the guy's name, absolutely nothing would come from it anyway.” You shook your head. “It’s fine, really. I might just adjust my work hours and change my route home for a few weeks. Maybe he’ll give up.”

Steve muttered something to himself, shaking his head. His face shifted from concern to something else, like his brain was working on a different trail of thoughts. He spoke your name quietly, drawing your attention to him again. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Steve’s kindness was a strange contrast to the entire experience on the subway. How one man could have such questionable intentions while another apologizes with sincerity for it was nearly jarring. Although, it did suddenly occur to you that Steve was just as much of a stranger.

“The worst part is.. men like that sever any opportunity for trust in other people. Especially blind trust. Like me telling you, a stranger, where I work and walking you to where I live. Funny enough though - every wire in my brain should be telling me not to and how it was a bad idea but.. I guess there is something about you.”

Steve sucked in a breath, eyes wide as he considered his response. “When you walked into the coffee shop, you could have asked the barista for help or tried to hide out in the bathroom. But you sat next to me instead. How come?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Like I said, there's just something about you, Steve.”

You walked in silence again, feet falling into a pattern once more. The sky was growing darker, the air cooler. After crossing the street again, you looked at him. “How do you feel about Prezio being traded to the Orioles?” You reached out and tipped up the brim of his Yankees hat. “A tragedy, right?”

A quiet laugh escaped him as he tipped his head. “I think it was a huge mistake. Don’t you think we’ve had a hard enough year as it is?” Your silence was filled with baseball talk instead and it seemed to put both of you at ease.

“This is me.” You stopped outside of a short apartment complex, pointing a thumb to the door.

Steve smiled, one hand in the pocket of his jacket as he studied you. Was this it? After the wild rollercoaster of emotions you had spilled onto him in the last hour, parting with nothing else seemed empty. Lacking. He opened his mouth and closed it, once then twice.

Finally, you cut in. “Thanks again, Steve. Really. If you hadn’t played along and scared him away.. well, I’m not sure where I would be right now. It means a lot that you cared enough about a stranger to make sure I was safe.”

Steve sighed out your name. “I’m sorry your barometer for kindness is so low.”

You sighed. “Yeah, me too.” Part of you wanted to do something. Say something else. Linger a tiny bit longer. But your feet shuffled and your hand reached for the door. “Have a good night, Steve.”

—

“I need a favour.”

“Well, good morning to you, sunshine. Did you lock yourself out of your computer again? FRIDAY can help with that.”

“Tony, this is serious.”

“Okay, okay. I recognize that scowl. How can I help you?”

“If I provided you some video footage from a security camera, can we track someone down? Figure out who they are? For full transparency, it’s just a civilian.”

“Sounds like we’re operating outside of the law, Rogers. Can you provide me with more context? I don’t mind the grey area - I just like the drama, too.”

Steve sighed, then reluctantly explained himself. The cafe. Your panicked message. The stalker of a man. The way you dismissed it all as a normal, unfortunate side effect of existing as a woman. His barista friend provided him with camera footage but he wasn’t sure it was enough.

Tony pinched between his eyes. “Men are scum. And I say that as someone in the practice of trying to be better. Recovering scum, if you will. I’ll see what I can do. FRIDAY, how quietly can we get into the security database at the Clifton building?”

—

Although you hadn’t lied to Steve, it occurred to you on your journey home that your guard should remain up. Which is why you had actually allowed him to walk you to your aunt’s apartment, instead of your own. She was happy to see you burst through the door and insisted you stay for dinner. That was a tiny silver lining to the whole mess.

The next day though, the thought of going into work was suffocating. So you opted to spend the day working from home instead, which your boss had been agreeable to, at least. One day rolled into two and you successfully avoided the office building until the following Monday. But then, you needed a plan. Next steps, next steps.

You took an Uber to the office early and left late at the end of the day, leaving out the back stairway and crossing a few blocks to take a different subway line home. It was unfortunate you had to cater your life to the chance you would run into this goon again, but your sense of security was slowly returning. That had to count for something.

Things shifted later that week. There was a sudden new policy sent out to all the staff in your office outlining new building ownership and training about sexual harassment policies.

“It’s a long time coming,” you heard someone mutter out in the elevator as you headed down towards the lobby.

“Guess Tony Stark just wants to own the whole block,” their coworker chirped back, pulling to loosen his tie.

There was even more commotion when you exited the elevator and walked towards the large glass doors. A team of NYPD officers were standing outside, shoving someone in the back of their cruiser. Your eyes narrowed. You couldn’t be certain but from that angle, you certainly recognized the bad buzzcut. Your eyes darted around the lobby anxiously and across the room, a small crowd of suits and officers had formed near..

Tony Stark, himself.

Before you could even try to understand what was going on, you heard someone calling your name. You turned your head and saw someone who looked a lot like -

“Steve?” You took a few steps towards him, pausing to glance from him back at Tony Stark and.. “Oh my god. You’re Steve Rogers. Why didn’t you say something?”

Captain America had walked you home. Hidden behind glasses and a hat. And you always considered yourself observant.

Steve just smirked, shrugging a shoulder. “I didn’t think it was important.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Should I be thanking you for all of this chaos?”

Steve furrowed his brow in mock confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe I’m extrapolating here but the same day my subway stalker gets taken away in cuffs, Stark Industries buys out this building and mandates a new policy and code of conduct.”

Steve pursed his lips, swallowing back a mischievous smirk. “Here’s the thing. It occurred to me that your best choice of action after that day was changing your entire life to avoid that man. And I couldn’t help but think about how broken that system was.”

You sighed. It had occurred to you, too. While you were relieved to shake the man from your trail, your mind considered he would probably turn his attention to someone else. And that wouldn’t be fair.

“Well, Cap. Job well done. That scum of a man had priors in Jersey, too.” Tony Stark himself had walked to where you and Steve stood. His hand clapped on Steve’s shoulder. “You’re at least going to ask her out, right? I mean, I bought an entire building for you - make a move, pal.”

Steve flushed pink and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“I’m getting a bagel. You want a bagel?” Tony raised an eyebrow from you to Steve again, smiling proudly.

“I’m good. I recommend the poppy seed though!” You called as Tony flitted away, narrowly avoiding a proper looking blonde woman who seemed very tired.

You turned your attention back to Steve. “He seems like a lot.”

“He is.” Steve nodded, motioning his hand. “I know it’s only one thing, maybe a ripple in making a difference but.. I’m hoping one less inappropriate person on the subway can give you peace of mind.”

You smiled again. Though you had seen many appearances by Captain America on the news, seeing the man in person was different. It seemed Steve Rogers walked the walk. After parting ways with him before, though he had crossed your mind, you didn’t anticipate your menial issues leading to this.

“Thanks. Really. Even one person makes a difference.” You reached out and touched his arm. “Thank you, Steve.”

“I’m sorry about Tony, though. His comments about asking you out and.. that certainly wasn’t my goal here.”

“I don’t know. You just did me a huge favour getting rid of that gremlin. I think I owe you.”

Steve caught your cheeky smile and stood up a bit straighter. “Well, in that case, the Yankees are playing the Sox tomorrow night. Tony never uses his tickets and the seats aren’t half bad. What do you say?”

“You’re cashing in this favour to take me on a date? Usually people ask for help moving or a ride to the airport or something.” You let out a dramatic sigh. “Sure. I guess you can take me to the game, Steve. If you ask politely, I’ll probably even hold your hand.”

After work the next day, Steve met you outside and you took the subway together to the stadium. You knew this wasn’t the end of it for you or anyone else worried about their personal boundaries being crossed. But, as you gripped the subway pole and your fingers grazed against Steve’s, you could finally breathe again. For the first time in a while, you weren’t anticipating next steps.

It was just you and the kind stranger from the coffee shop.

[justcourttee]

I would love for like Adrien to find a lost 4 year old at one of his photo shoots and after conformting the child and trying to help him find his parents the kid yells mommy! And runs to damian and Marinette

So so sorry for being so inactive. It’s been a crazy semester and I haven’t been able to sit down and write as much as I had hoped. (Side note, If you sent a request, I promise I will get to it. I never overlook them unless they are the same request twice. I will only answer one if it’s the same prompt :))

There were three or four of these requests in my inbox all slightly different but based on this same idea! So I hope you enjoy this :)

Just Like You

Adrien knew one thing was absolute in this world.

Photoshoots always were and always would be the bane of his existence.

He thought that when his father left him in charge of the company so that he and Nathalie could travel the world, he could lay off on the photoshoots, hire some new faces. What a naive wish. He should’ve known that his father would have booked him to wear all of the upcoming designs and deadlines for the next two years.

“Alright guys, let’s call it quits for now and take an hour lunch. Everyone meet back here by 1.”

Adrien sighed as he slipped off the jacket he was wearing, handing it off to the intern before stepping out of their cornered off section of the park. What to eat for lunch was the only question plaguing his mind as he unconsciously stepped toward Andre’s cart conveniently set up a mere 20 feet from their site.  He was so close to his tasty snack when a cry pierced his ears.

His eyes swept the park looking for the culprit only pausing once they landed on a small child collapsed by the water fountain, their face buried in tiny hands.

Nobody seemed to be rushing to their aid, in fact, it was as if all of Paris was trying to ignore the girl’s cries as they scurried to wherever they were in such a hurry to be. Typical. His eyes glanced once more longingly at the ice cream cart before his feet turned on their path. He tried to approach as slowly as possible stopping a couple of feet from the child, careful to not scare her off.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

She didn’t even bother to look up, her wails echoing off the marble of the fountain. Adrien wasn’t sure what to do. He had worked with kids before in photoshoots, but he truly had no personal experience with them.

“Why are you crying?”

There was still no answer. He didn’t know what he was expecting. Just because he changed the question didn’t mean she was going to automatically talk to him. So instead, he remained crouched, hoping he could wait her out before his lunch break ended.

“Mom-Mommy told me not to talk to strangers sir.”

Her french was jagged, much like it was a language in progress. She was definitely from out of town. That concerned Adrien more than anything else. Hawkmoth may have fallen off the face of the Earth, but that didn’t mean every scum followed suit.

“That’s good advice from your mom. Is she with you today?”

Adrien regretted the words the minute they flew from his mouth. Her whole body stiffened as if she suddenly remembered her situation.

“I don’t know. She told me to stay put, but I saw this pretty butterfly and I thought it was one of mommy’s friends. So I tried to chase and after it and when it went bye-bye, I didn’t know where I was.”

Slowly, her head tilted to the side, her watery eyes drilling into his as if she wasn’t sure whether to cry or attack. The look, however, wasn’t what sucked all the air out of his surroundings.

“My God, you look just like her.”

The child turned her whole body, her face morphing from hostile to curious. It was as if some Akuma had hit Marinette Dupain-Cheng shrinking her to the size of one four-year-old girl. She was identical to the girl he had cared for save for her eyes. Instead of the mesmerizing blue he had gotten lost in so many times, they were a striking emerald green.

“Can we get some ice cream?”

Adrien blinked twice as if waking from a strange dream.

“From that cart over there?”

Her little finger nearly poked his eye out as she motioned behind him to where Andre stood.

“I-I-um,” his voice hadn’t cracked in years, was he going to hit puberty again? “I thought I was a stranger. You can’t get ice cream with a stranger.”

Gone were her tears and in their place stood a dazzling smile of tiny peals.

“You’re right, but you’re not gonna hurt me, mister. I can tell by your eyes. Daddy always tells me to check the eyes.”

Without another word, she skipped past Adrien forcing him to chase after her retreating figure. She had just reached the cart when a frantic voice stopped her order in its tracks.

“Amelia Martha Wayne, Where are you?”

“Mommy!”

It was as if she completely had forgotten about her ice cream as she pushed past Adrien’s legs leaving him frozen in place. That voice. He hadn’t heard it in so many months, so many years. It stilled his racing heart.

“Mommy, mommy, do you want some ice cream? This nice man was about to pay for some!”

Instantly Adrien felt his senses heightened. It felt as if he was seconds away from his death bed.

“I promise Marinette, it wasn’t like that!”

Adrien whipped around, his hands straight up in the air only to come face to face with a shorter, very angry face. His fist was already balled, raised in the air as if he was going to clobber Adrien from behind.

“Damian! Wait!” In an instance, a flash of black hair jumped between him and his would-be assailant. “I know him! You remember my partner, right? This is Adrien!”

The words didn’t seem to ebb at his anger, but he slowly lowered his fist, reaching down to scoop up the little girl instead. Adrien released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“That is you, right Marinette?”

He felt like time itself had frozen as she turned, that familiar smile blinding his vision. 

She had matured. Her smile no longer held the naivety and love from when they were younger, but it was just as bright and welcoming. He couldn’t help his own smile that pulled at his lips. She was just as intoxicating as ever. And she was-

His eyes landed on the small bump protruding from her stomach.

“Hey Kitty, it’s been a while.” Her eyes followed his to where they remained glued on her midsection. “Oh yes, a lot has happened the past few years. Please, allow me to introduce my husband Damian and our daughter Amelia.”

His eyes shot back up, the red swallowing his face as he shot his hand out to accept the man’s extended hand in front of him.

“Very nice to meet you Damian, and of course, you as well Amelia,”

The man didn’t utter a word, his face still contorted into the snarl he had upon arriving. Adrien felt as though his voice was stuck in the back of his throat. How could this small man be so intimidating?

“Set call! Ten minutes people, ten minutes!”

Adrien’s eyes widened as he yanked his phone from his back pocket. There was no way that he had wasted his entire break, he hadn’t even had lunch yet!

“I remember that sound, we should be heading out cause I doubt Amelia has given you any time to eat.” Her playful glare earned a giggle from the little girl who mouthed a sorry to him. “But we should catch up before we head back to the States! Just text me when you’re free.”

Her smile was still warm, her eyes still shining with love, but there was one difference from the Marinette he used to know. All of that love was no longer directed at him. He watched as she intertwined her hand with the man beside her, turning to leave the park, the giggle of her and Amelia echoing in his ears. He wanted to reach out, ask them to stay longer, watch the shoot for old time's sake. But as they retreated further away, he couldn’t find it in him to bring her back to the past.

He chuckled quietly to himself, turning to rush to Andre’s cart before he had to return to the life he had chosen.

“I’m happy for you Marinette and that little girl of yours, well,” he spared one last glance over his shoulder, Amelia’s smile just as blinding as the one from his childhood “she looks just like you.”

Permanent Tag List:

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[lynenspray]

joygi 04

prompt: seulgi should know better than to come unprepared, especially when it involves her girlfriend's reputation at work.

---

hold me up (tie me down)

(joygi gp!seulgi frottage overstimulation car sex)

seulgi’s reflection followed as she tilted her head, brow furrowing at how the white collar of her dress shirt didn’t quite shape itself around her neck the way she wanted it to. 

with a sigh, she tugged at the front of her top and tucked it into her slacks haphazardly. the collar gave until the first closed button was right in the middle of her chest, but the action left unsightly creases around her shoulders. goddammit.

she shook her head in mild annoyance. should’ve gotten a new dress shirt for this occasion. she didn’t want to disappoint joy, after all--the younger woman was the one who had bought the sleek black suit seulgi was to wear for the night, demanding that the older woman don it in order for them to match. 

so she did. and now here she was, looking like a child playing grown-up, glaring at the troublesome cotton that was currently the bane of her existence. 

you really ought to stop dressing like a teenager, joy had told her once, bemused at the photographer’s choice of wearing a bucket hat on one of their dinners out. didn’t you say you came from work? the creative field really is something else...

seulgi mistook it as a joke, because joy and her had similarly bold fashion tastes in somewhat opposite directions. her own style was more baggy and fit for walking the streets, while the younger woman was fond of suits and blazers even on her casual days. seulgi was pretty sure joy would be the type to wear an oversized, tailored coat just to walk her dog around the block.

but apparently the comment was not to be taken as a good-humoured quip, and now seulgi was going to seem like an absolute fool at one of the most important fundraisers her girlfriend coordinated herself for the company that she was a division head for. fuck.

“maybe if i just…” she started, trying not to deflate when she discovered that buttoning her shirt up all the way just made her look worse. if that was even possible. 

ding!

seulgi blinked and picked up her phone, biting her lip when she saw her girlfriend’s message, impatience in its tone. probably from the traffic and the fact that seulgi got caught up with the photoshoot she had today, only having enough time for a shower and light make-up before joy fetched her. they were cutting it a bit too close to being exactly on time for the party instead of fifteen minutes early.

jwoyie ♡

i'll be there in ten. be at the driveway when i arrive

[7:21pm]

one of the elevators in her building had been under maintenance since yesterday, leaving only the other available. the wait and ride down would take anywhere between five to twenty minutes, and joy abhorred it when she was late. shit.

her head whipped around as she stared at her reflection once more; the state of her hair and overall demeanour appeared as frazzled as she felt. was there anything else she could do? 

deciding that no she didn’t own any other dress shirts that had any chance of being appropriate for the formal occasion and no she couldn’t possibly back out now and upset joy while she was at it, seulgi heaved a long suffering breath and wore the jacket to complete her outfit. 

she took one last look at her closet and rummaged through the drawers, figuring that she may as well bring a tie if there was any chance joy could salvage her attire. 

"seriously…"

the only ties she had were long printed scarf-like silks in different colours. great. 

she tucked one into her suit jacket anyway and hoped for the best, quickly making her way down to the lobby of her apartment building lest she be late. 

joy's mercedes-benz pulled up on the dot, and seulgi was both unsurprised and terrified to see her girlfriend's blank expression as soon as she slipped into the passenger seat in all her disheveled glory. 

all seulgi could do was sit there in quiet shame as she fiddled with the cloth in her hands.

"you’re gorgeous," seulgi whispered as she settled in. joy was going to turn every head at the fundraiser with the side ruffle black dress she wore; simple but eye-catching. oh god. seulgi was going to embarrass her girlfriend at the very event she worked so hard for. 

"thank you." joy’s reply was simple and quick, smooth as her steering them out of the driveway and onto the main road. the younger woman's hand trailed down seulgi's arm, twining their fingers together as their matching couple rings met. no praises were given about seulgi's own outfit. rightfully so, because she looked pitiful in comparison. 

seulgi sank further into her seat. 

joy didn’t look at seulgi when she spoke next. "are you upset? was it with your photoshoot today?" 

"no," seulgi answered, tightening her grip on joy's hand as she gazed out her window. "i just… know that i don't look good. i'm sorry i didn't just buy an actual dress shirt, or text you asking if i could borrow one."

joy let a few minutes pass by without a single word, the evening traffic’s lights bouncing off her face and making her glow. the few minutes had first turned into several, before several more, and soon enough time had stretched on until almost an hour of silence had passed and the events place underground parking lot was all seulgi could spy outside.

when the taller woman finally spoke, it was an inquiry rather than a response. "what are you doing with that tie?" joy’s tone lacked any accusation, but the steely gaze she flicked towards seulgi as she turned the engine off spoke volumes.

"i…" seulgi swallowed. "thought… maybe i could wear it tonight," she reasoned, every word that slipped out of her mouth softer than the last. though the car was warm, the temperature didn't call for the cold sweat that she felt trickle down the back of her neck. that was caused by something else. 

seulgi held her breath as she watched joy's fingers clench around the steering wheel, her stomach dropping at the sound of leather being stretched. 

"haven't we been over this before?" 

"the…" party? seulgi couldn't recall any such thing. 

joy's hand was almost as quick as her hiss. "this," she indicated, holding seulgi's hand and the tie up between them. "making decisions without me. it's my event."

and you're my girl went unsaid, but seulgi could hear the implication of it with joy's piercing stare. 

seulgi dipped her gaze impulsively, trying to appease the younger woman. she knew far better than to push joy, especially when she was in business-mode and concerned about her reputation at work. “i know… i’m sorry.” 

"you want to use this?"

she crumpled into herself, not knowing the answer joy wanted to hear.

the older woman let out a squeak of surprise when joy's other hand moved to grab her chin, forcing her to lock their gazes. "backseat," joy commanded. 

seulgi blinked, bewildered for only a moment before gathering her wits and scrambling to do joy's bidding. she squeezed herself between the front seats, waddled her way over the console, and caught her breath as she settled into a sitting position.

joy only looked at her with an expression of amusement, lips tilted mockingly. the older girl watched wide-eyed as her lover reached out to open the glove compartment and pulled out what looked like sleek black cloth. 

before seulgi could make sense of what was going on, the taller swiftly exited and reentered the vehicle through the back with a smirk, pushing her against the opposite door as soon as she got in.

seulgi gulped when joy languidly approached, maneuvering the former's legs until she could fit snugly between them. the position was awkward, but seulgi wasn’t thinking about that right now. the rough manipulation of her limbs had her trembling, and if she looked down now, she was sure the tent in her pants would be more than obvious. 

joy’s smirk only widened as she brushed fingers against seulgi’s trousers, right where her slowly hardening dick was. “sit tight, big girl,” she whispered. seulgi gulped as joy leaned forward, lips right by her ear and causing goosebumps to spring forth on her skin. “using this was your idea, after all. i wouldn’t want to disappoint you now.”

the older woman did nothing but watch and let her lover leave kisses on her wrists before wrapping the tie around them, tugging them up, up, above seulgi until they were level with the car handle over her head. 

a gasp escaped her lips when joy tethered her arms to the handle, leaving no room for her to resist or move from her place. 

she wanted to ask her lover what was going on, but just as she was about to, the black fabric was folded into a ball and stuffed in her mouth. 

the only thing she could muster was a confused grunt, her tongue pinned as joy placed another cloth between her teeth and tied the ends behind her head, pulling at the edges of her lips and preventing her from closing them. 

seulgi tugged on her bonds questioningly, letting the squeak of satin against leather ask everything she couldn’t manage to voice out. 

“you want to look good for me, right?”

she nodded, hips unconsciously bucking against the hand that ground down against it.

“i know just the thing to help, then.” 

joy’s smirk turned vicious, from what seulgi could see in the dim light. she felt more than saw her lover’s hands trail their way up her shirt, swiftly unbuttoning the white cotton. then those long fingers brushed against her ribs, coming between her breasts to unclasp her bra, letting her tan skin meet the still air of the car they were in. 

seulgi suppressed a weak whimper as joy's breath ghosted over her body, lips poised to kiss along her collarbone and doing so slowly, reverently. 

joy's kisses would normally range from deep and sensual to light and playful, but seulgi noticed her pecks now had intention behind them; firm and final, no sign of her tongue peeking out as she grazed against the older woman's peaks. 

"hnmf," seulgi groaned through the cloth as the ends of joy's hair tickled her waist, bucking her hips up to show her want, her need. if joy wanted to have her, she was all hers for the taking; would always be. she just needed to touch her. 

instead of following through with her lover's obvious request, however, joy ignored her restless hips in favour of grabbing her lipstick from her bag and reapplying some as she stared down at her unnie with a smirk. 

joy's hand found its way to seulgi's thigh, pressing her fingers harshly against the muscle and smirking wider at seulgi's whine in reaction. 

"you know when you look best, baby?" she questioned, rubbing along the underside of seulgi's leg and pushing it up to have seulgi blossom open for her, slacks pulling tight against her crotch, hugging her bulge. "when you're mine."

seulgi's head rolled back as joy started leaving firm kisses all over her torso once more, steady and insistent. she was so distracted by the sensation that she hadn't noticed when joy started writing on her chest; only blinked back to reality once the lipstick was recapped and joy sat back to gaze at her with a pleased expression. 

"if only you could see yourself," joy said, chin tilted upwards as she directed a lazy smile at seulgi. her grin was quickly replaced by a sneer. "but the view isn't for you anyway, is it?" 

seulgi shook her head with a squeak, knowing that was what joy wanted. she closed her eyes when joy still paid her swollen cock no mind, frustration building. 

"look at me."

please. seulgi planted her ankles on top of the car seats so she could inch herself closer and grind on joy's knee. please just touch me. 

a muffled yelp escaped her as joy abruptly pressed her thighs back against her own chest, holding her so firmly she could feel the shape of the car door digging into her spine. 

seulgi's eyes shot open. something in joy’s expression told her it was best if she stopped struggling; that if she knew what was good for her, she would sit still, listen carefully, and–

"look at me."

look at her. 

the older woman would bite her lip if she could. she spied the shadow of muscles moving as joy let out a breath and clenched her jaw. the sight had seulgi trembling; she couldn't tell what was about to happen.

she'd been disobedient before, pushed joy to the limit, tested her patience repeatedly to the point that she'd had no choice but to teach seulgi a lesson about her manners. 

but it had never happened in the cramped space of a car, right as they had to show up at an event. 

would joy drag her out of the vehicle, disheveled and so obviously wrecked, and leash her to her person as they got to the party? would she then push her into a cubicle in the restroom, make her cum all over herself, and watch as seulgi would try to hide the evidence? would they leave early, with joy stripping her naked and tied in the backseat as she drove the long way home? 

seulgi let out a shaky breath at the thought, gaze locked on joy and her barely withheld annoyance. she could do those things. joy would do all of those things if she felt like treating seulgi that way tonight. 

"good girl," joy practically purred. her hands were back on seulgi's legs, rubbing the material of her own slacks against her. "see? it's not that hard to do what i say."

the older woman let out a whimper as joy loomed over her. 

"isn't that right?" 

seulgi nodded before joy could even finish, breathing heavily as she felt her dick leak, aroused at the sight. she groaned when joy's hands travelled to cup her groin, massaging her bulge and causing her to jerk up in response. 

she tugged on her bindings and lifted her hips, rolling against joy's palms as the younger woman curiously left seulgi clothed. no movements towards unbuckling her pants were made. what…? 

joy answered her unspoken question. "you're keeping them on." she cupped the head of seulgi's dick through the fabric and rubbed against the junction between the crown and the rest of her shaft. 

seulgi moaned at the harsh touch, titillated beyond comprehension. joy's always did this to her, sent her reeling, desperate and yearning for more of what she would be given. 

and it was obvious that it turned joy on too. the younger growled as she buried her face into seulgi's neck, ignoring the sweat and licking her skin. "bought them for you, y'know." she nipped and sucked almost feverishly, marking seulgi with love bites. "wanna see you in them. cum in them."

the older woman squirmed, the thought of being jerked off while clothed sending tingles down her spine. on her new clothes, too. 

"mmffh," seulgi groaned, eyes rolling back as joy continued fondling her, mercilessly pressing on her most sensitive buttons. 

fuck fuck fuck– it was a sick sort of satisfaction to finally receive all the touch she had been craving for, tenfold. the line between pleasure and pain was one seulgi was familiar with as joy's shadow formed over and on her. 

her lover knew all the spots to get her aching; she ground a thumb against seulgi's crown and cupped around the outline of her swollen cock with one hand, while the other massaged her tightening balls.

an eye pinched closed as seulgi gasped, feeling the telltale sign of her reaching the edge. her gut clenched, hips stirring as she felt her muscles constrict in the moments leading up to ecstasy. 

oh god oh god ohgod–i'm going to–

seulgi whimpered through the cloth between her teeth, tugged on the ties around her wrists, and unceremoniously creamed in her slacks and underwear. 

"just like that, baby. had a lot pent up in you, hm?" 

she grunted as joy cooed, caressing her through her orgasm. each spurt slowly emptied her gut but also filled her panties up, making for a sweaty, almost oppressive feeling right where her crotch was. 

the older woman shivered as she gushed the last drops of her cum, the sticky, full feeling in her underwear making her blush crimson. it was really hot–both temperature-wise and just the act of her cumming in her pants. she felt so dirty. 

seulgi let out a squeak when joy's hands continued, spreading the accumulated seed in her pants all over her slowly softening cock, cruel smirk in place. 

"give me some more," joy purred, pressing harder when the older woman jerked back. "be a good girl."

seulgi whimpered when she could no longer move further, backside practically molding into the door's interior.

what was touch that expertly balanced itself on the tightrope between pleasure and pain terrifyingly morphed into torture; joy's hands were unyielding, fluttering over seulgi's flaccid shaft and grating the material of her clothes onto her sensitive skin. 

"more?" 

seulgi shook her head frantically, legs trembling but curiously remaining wide open at the mercy of her lover. 

"i see," joy hummed, ministrations abating. seulgi let out a sound between disappointment and relief. 

joy was a good lover and an even better listener; it was just that sometimes seulgi wasn't sure of her own wants and desires. she knew it hurt, a little bit, to be fervently stimulated seconds after cumming, but–she still wanted it somehow. 

seulgi whined through the cloth, gyrating her hips once again. she wanted–she didn't know. hopefully joy could figure it out for her. 

"shhh, i know, sweetheart." 

joy continued to coo as she quickly unbuckled seulgi's pants and pulled her soiled underwear down. seulgi saw her bite her lip before readjusting herself, comfortably fitting in the rest of the backseat that seulgi wasn't occupying. 

then she curled forward, mouth hovering seulgi's cock. "gonna clean you up 'til you're good as new, baby." 

the first lick sent seulgi reeling, knocking the back of her head against the window behind her. her lower body was past the point of quivering, now shaking to the core as joy lapped her up dutifully, slurping down her seed. 

the texture of her tongue didn't change, but somehow the press of it felt rough, chafing against her oversensitive skin. there was no more room for seulgi to shy away from joy's mouth. the long minutes it took for her to be clean from all her spunk allowed her dick to stir back to life in joy's loving hands, aching once again, as if the pleasure she’d received until that point was negligible. 

when joy started pumping her again, slowly, all seulgi could do was take what she was being given. her sense of self melted away under joy's expertise, forgetting all about the overstimulation, her ruined clothes, and even the fundraiser. instead, the world was made of only her and joy; her lover's mouth, her warmth, the sound of their breathing. 

it felt like time both moved at a glacial and erratic pace for seulgi, as joy gently unbound her arms and released the hold of the cloth on her jaw. instead of retreating from the overbearing touch, however, seulgi let her limbs melt around joy's body and lazily pulled her closer.

now that seulgi's mouth and arms were free, she sang praises into joy's ear and slithered her own hand up the woman's dress. 

"so wet," seulgi managed to hum, rubbing circles onto the taller woman's swollen nub, mixing both of their groans and gasps. 

she dipped her fingers in her lover, causing a long moan to be yanked out of joy that seulgi answered with a deep, sensual kiss. 

"joy," seulgi sobbed, rutting against the pace the taller woman set as she pumped her slick cock, twisting each time she reached her mushroomed head. her member was aching, craving for joy's familiar velvet heat. "joy."

"c-come closer, baby. i can help," joy gasped as seulgi's fingers slipped out of her, stripping off her own panties and pulling her skirt up. she widened her legs so seulgi's narrow hips could slot between them, and when she aligned the woman's shaft at her entrance, steadily inching down to swallow seulgi's dick–

"oh christ, seul, seul you're so fucking good to me–"

"–joy, haah, joy pleaseplease–" 

the older woman cried out with a throaty scream the moment joy's ass met her pelvis, her girlfriend's pussy made just for her. she jerked up into the taller woman, setting an unforgiving and brutal tempo that her lover took in stride, understanding her desperation. she asked for this, after all. 

seulgi felt the churning in her gut make its presence known once more, liquid heat pooling in her balls. "i'm–hgck, ffffuck, joy!" 

her lover only ground her hips down harder, stoking the fire that was burning in the smaller woman. "g-give it to me, seul, give m-me everything," joy hissed out, bouncing atop her as she trembled and showed signs of reaching her own peak.

only the sound of flesh slapping against flesh cut through their rhythmic cries. it took three more harsh thrusts until seulgi came again–an even bigger load this time, painting the walls of joy's fluttering, clenching pussy with her hot seed. 

the lovers rode their highs for several long seconds together, mixing their body heat fluids as they came back down to reality. 

seulgi blinked out of her post coital stupor only to get lost in thought again, because holy fuck. that was amazing–and so much better than how seulgi thought her dedicated stress relief session would go. 

when she said she wanted to be dominated both mentally and physically by her lover, seulgi thought joy would resort to power play involving names and other verbally demeaning acts triggered by her fake wardrobe malfunction in the event of the made-up important fundraiser. she was not expecting all of this.

usually, their sessions would go with both taking charge–unless it was explicitly stated beforehand that one would dominate. this time, seulgi requested for joy to be in control. she wanted the chance to loosen her figuratively coiled body and mindset that were caused by the high-stress, fast-paced work environment she was constantly exposed to. 

… and if this was how it was going to go, leaving her a sloppy mess at the mercy of her partner looming above her–well. she should really ask for joy to dom more often. maybe even beg outside the bedroom. 

seulgi's mind was so clouded by bliss, she could barely tell when joy finished cleaning them both up. she only realised so when she heard the zipper of her slacks close. 

"you feeling better?" joy asked, expression of cruelty replaced by one of fondness as she caressed seulgi's sweaty hair from her face. 

"mhm." seulgi's voice was raw with adoration. the form and presence of her lover were large and reassuring; seulgi felt like she was so small in comparison. "take me home?"

"whatever my girl wants."

the trip back to their apartment passed by in a blur. seulgi tucked her hands in her lap and directed her gaze from the road to the roadside to what she could make out as joy's silhouette from her backseat view.

only when they arrived at their own car park did seulgi realise that they were previously at friend's apartment complex, making use of her dedicated tenant parking slot. 

trust in joy to plan so thoroughly. public sex wasn't exactly a crime either of them wanted to go to jail for, after all. she probably bribed irene for it. 

joy carefully guided seulgi every step of the way as they returned home, pulling her out of the car and holding her in her arms during the lift ride. 

seulgi sighed as joy closed the bathroom door behind her, dazedly watching her lover strip her in the mirror. she smiled when she saw what joy wrote on her chest. 

"easy, now." joy's voice cut through seulgi's floating thoughts. the older woman blinked as her lover sat her down in the warm bath, eventually sighing as the chill of the night air was chased away. "i've got you," joy assured her, her own naked form slipping in between seulgi's back and the end of the tub. 

the older woman could only lean back against joy and hum, quietly observing and feeling the way the other woman's hands ran over her flesh. 

she watched the lipstick wash away from her chest. the word 'mine' that had been written melted away, replaced by joy's strong fingers massaging her muscles and joy's plump lips pressing against the junction between her neck and shoulder, whispering sweet nothings. yours. 

[theweasleysredhair]

The Way You Look At Her [S.B.]

Character: Sirius Black

Word Count: 3674

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Maybe there really is a fine line between hate and love.

Disclaimer: Gif isn’t mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: Guess who’s backk! And with a cheesy, probably all-over-the-place Sirius fic. Enjoy!

+ + + + +

It was nearing 4pm; The Three Broomsticks was as busy as you’d ever seen it. But then, it was a Hogsmeade weekend and cold outside - of course everyone would want cover from the snow. You pulled your half full butterbeer to you and hoped no one would remember it was your turn to battle your way through the swarms of Hogwarts students and Hogsmeade residents just to get to the bar to buy more drinks.

A pretty bar maid passed by the table you were sat at, taking the empty glasses that had piled up in the middle, leaning forward to grab the last glass before weaving back through the people standing and laughing around.

“I just can’t believe that in a few months time, we’ll be leaving Hogwarts for good!” Lily said, shaking her head and frowning a bit. You glanced over at your red-headed best friend and nodded, “I know, it’s gonna be so sad knowing we’re not going back in September.” If you were being truly honest, none of you knew if you’d actually even be alive come September, due to the impending war and rise of Voldemort and his death eaters.

Sat beside Lily, James wrapped his arm around her shoulders. You’d never known them to be so happy, and you were so glad they had found each other. There were a few bumps in the road, but the couple had finally gotten together a few months back and had been the cutest couple at Hogwarts.

Which should make you happy. In fact, this whole afternoon would’ve been amazing, if not for the man sat two seats away from you, between Remus and Marlene.

He sat there, wearing his worn leather jacket, fingers curled around his butterbeer glass as he smirked at something James said, looking like a goddamn snack. Arsehole.

You scowled, looking down at your drink. Sirius Black was the bane of your existence, a plague in your otherwise half-decent world. A handsome, god-like plague, but a plague all the same.

“Another round?” You heard him announce as he looked around the table. “We better get going soon actually,” Remus noted, checking the time, “We’re due to head back to school soon.”

“C’mon, live a little, Moony! We all know we could just sneak back whenever we want. Let’s have another and wait for the snow to pass,” Sirius said as he stood up. Remus grumbled something inaudible under his breath, before replying, “Fine, suit yourself.”

Sirius smirked, looking around at everyone - all seven of you (James, Remus, Peter, Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, and yourself) - before standing up, “I’ll be right back.”

You watched his retreating figure, glaring holes into the back of his head as he leant casually against the bar.

Merlin, you hated him.

“We all know that’s a lie.”

Your head whipped over to the source of the voice, your eyes fixating on James as you narrowed them slightly, “What’s a lie?”

“That you hate our Pads, we all know you don’t,” he shrugged matter-of-factly. You hadn’t realised you’d said anything out loud but...

“I do. He’s arrogant, he’s conceited, not to mention the most annoying and loathsome toad I have ever had the displeasure to come across in my life.”

“Now now, L/n! No need to be so feisty,” Sirius drawled.

You fought the need to roll your eyes. He passed around the butterbeers, everyone thanking him before you realised he’d missed you out.

“Think you bought one less than we need, Sirius,” Marlene said, looking over at him. He glanced at her before staring over at you. “Whoops, my bad, guess you’ll have to go without, L/n,” he said, feigning an apology.

You glared at him, clenching your fists under the table, before smiling sweetly and replying sarcastically, “No no, it’s fine, we all know how hard it can be to count to eight.”

Sirius sat, looking at you for a moment, tongue darting out across his bottom lip, before scoffing at you and shaking his head. He then shot you a cheeky smile as he pushed his own glass towards you, nodding towards it. He then turned away, starting up a conversation with Remus, Marlene and Dorcas instead.

You were silent, reluctantly taking the drink and running your finger around the rim of the glass.

James tried to hide his smirk by taking a sip of his butterbeer, before answering, “Just tell him.” Raising an eyebrow, feigning your confusion, you tap your fingers on the table next to your glass, “Tell him what?”

“That you like him.”

You nearly choked on air, “Well, you know, I would, but I don’t like him, so yeah I’m not gonna do that. But thanks for your suggestion.”

“You’re the one who always complains about him being with other girls. In fact, you can’t seem to stop talking about him, ergo, you like him!” James continued, Lily humming in agreement next to him.

You glanced over at the boy in question to find him deep in conversation - thankfully he wasn’t hearing what James was saying.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Look Potter, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but I will spell it out in plain English so then maybe you’ll understand. I... do not... like... Sirius... Black. In a platonic or non-platonic way. I merely put up with him as I am quite fond of our friendship, though right now I am unsure as to why. Just as I am unsure as to why you’re friends with that asshat in the first place.”

James laughs, shaking his head, “You’re just saying that because you know deep down I’m right. If it’s any consolation, he likes you too.”

“Highly debatable,” you replied, pushing your glass away from you.

____________________

Monday mornings were the worst. Particularly this morning. You stumbled from your dorm room and into your common room, trying to do your tie on the move. You were already late, which meant that you’d have to miss out on breakfast, which means you’d have to sit through Slughorn droning on about potions whilst your stomach rumbled.

You grumbled to yourself as you shoved your bag onto your shoulder and ran towards your potions classroom. You’d be late regardless, but better to be five minutes late than half an hour.

“You’re late, Ms L/n. 10 points from Y/h,” Slughorn states as you enter the classroom in a hurry. You cheeks turn red as you realise everyone is staring at you. “Sorry Professor,” you ducked your head down, taking your usual seat next to Lily.

“As I was saying, today we will be starting a project where you will choose a potion and create it outside of classroom hours. You will be finding the ingredients and preparing the potions yourself, and you will be working in pairs for this-“ you looked over at Lily who grinned back at you, “- assigned by myself.”

There were hushed murmurs across the class at the revelation, getting louder as Slughorn read out names. Your heart beat faster. Please don’t put me with Black, please don’t put me with Black, please don’t-

“L/n and Black...”

You groaned, your head dropping to the table as you muttered out a string of curses.

“Why hello there L/n!”

”Oh for fuck’s sake,” you groaned, siting up and tilting your head back in annoyance, “Could this day actually get any worse?!” “Tsk tsk, language,” Sirius chastised with a smirk, leaning towards you and thoroughly enjoying the fact that you were less than impressed with the general goings on in your life at this moment in time.

He was so close to you that all it would take was you to turn your head and you’d be practically kissing him.

Stop thinking about kissing him! ____________________

You were sat in the library, waiting for Sirius to show up - that is, if he was actually going to show - flipping through a book on advanced potions and making notes on your favourites. You’d agreed to meet here as you had a free afternoon, however he was late - something you’d foreseen happening anyway but it didn’t make it any less annoying.

You’d been there a couple of hours before the library door finally swung open and Sirius strolled in, shirt untucked, collar up and him redoing up his buttons.

“Busy day?” You asked him sarcastically as you looked up at him, eyeing the lipstick stain on his neck. Your heart clenched, but you refused to think about why this was. He chose to ignore you, “I lost track of time.” “Clearly,” you commented, raising your eyebrows.

He scoffed, pulling his collar down, “Let’s just get this work done. What potion are we doing?”

“The Calming Draught. It’s one the easiest to collect the ingredients for, but just complicated enough to earn a high grade on,” you explained, looking back down at your textbook.

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Sirius commenter as he sat down across from you. “Yes well I’ve been here for nearly three hours now, whilst you were off with some girl in a broom cupboard somewhere,” you offered him a sarcastic smile.

“Stop being so jealous L/n, it’s not a good colour on you,” he teased, offering you a lazy smirk, “Besides, you could be one of those girls in the broom cupboard if that’s what you want.”

You pushed your potions textbook over to him and gestured at him to read it. Looking at his handsome face, his chiselled jawline and the way he ran his tongue across his bottom lip as he started reading, you couldn’t blame the girls. In fact, you weren’t entirely sure you’d be able to say no yourself.

Over your dead body would you ever admit that to him.

“I can assure you that is the last place I’d ever want to be,” you lied.

____________________

About a week later, you were sat with Lily eating dinner when you noticed Sirius entering the Great Hall.

Lily noticed the change in your demeanour and tilted her head to one side, silently asking if you were okay. You gave her a nod and a fake smile, one you were glad she didn’t look too much into.

The black haired boy sat beside his friends at the end of the table you were sat on; you could hear them laughing and joking around. Allowing yourself a glance over as you took a sip of your drink, you saw Sirius was already looking your way, so you quickly turned back to Lily.

You were so focused on not staring in his direction that you didn’t notice that he’d moved to sit beside you, until you felt an arm brush against your own. You looked up at him, your heart jolting as you tried to keep a blush from forming.

“Sirius, to what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked carefully. “Can’t a guy sit next to one of his friends now?” He asked with a smile, grabbing some food and putting it onto his plate. You barely noticed Lily sliding down the bench towards James as you turned fully towards him, “I feel like you want something.

“I want a lot of things. Right now though, all I was gonna ask is if you got all the ingredients for that potion or if you need me to get anything.”

“Oh! I um... I managed to get everything already, I just need to start actually preparing it. I’m planning on using one of the potions classrooms after dinner, you’re welcome to join me.”

“Gladly.”

____________________

Sirius followed you into the empty potions classroom, watching as you brought out your textbook from your bag.

“Would you mind grabbing a cauldron from the cupboard please?” You asked as you set out the ingredients.

The black haired boy opened the cupboard at the back and grabbed a cauldron out for you, placing it on your table.

“I’ve got all the ingredients here, including lavender, peppermint and crocodile heart. It says if we do this correctly, the potion should be a blue colour,” you explained to him, turning and nearly jumping out of your skin when you realised how close he was standing behind you.

“Just let me know what you need me to do L/n and I’ll do it,” Sirius said, the corner of his mouth lifting up into a small smirk. You nodded, getting started on the potion.

You were just about to add the peppermint when you glanced over at Sirius, who was sat at the table, resting his chin on his hands and staring at you with an odd look in his eye.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” You said nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear and looking away from his gaze.

”Like what? ‘M not looking at you in any kind of way,” he shrugged innocently.

You raised an eyebrow at him before shaking your head and letting out a soft laugh, “Never mind.”

____________________

The morning after, you, Lily, James, Remus and Sirius were eating breakfast.

“Anyone got any plans for the summer?” Remus asked as he flipped through the morning newspaper.

“Well, I’m going to spend it with my Lilyflower here,” James spoke dreamily as he leant his head onto her shoulder. She raked her hand through his head before saying casually, “We’re thinking of getting married.”

Sirius choked on his pumpkin juice and Remus leant over to pat his back, “You’re getting married?!”

“We’re thinking about it. What with the war rising and all, we don’t want to wait in case heaven forbid something happens to us,” Lily explained. “We know we want to spend the rest of our lives together, so why not make it official,” James added.

“You’ll need a wedding dress! Oh there’s been some really lovely designs come out recently, we’ll have to take a look once we get back home,” You grinned at Lily.

“I want something simple I reckon, nothing extravagant, maybe a bit of lace,” she mused.

“That would suit you so well. There’s so many pretty designs, I saw a few when I was shopping with my cousin for hers - I think I’d want one of the ball gown ones, or maybe a mermaid cut.”

“That’s if you can trick some poor sod into marrying you,” Sirius muttered, though it was loud enough for the table to hear and you knew he knew it.

“You’re insufferable,” you scowled, “Why are you being such a git?” This earned a half-assed shrug from him. If Sirius was honest with himself, he didn’t really know why he was himself, all he knew was that as soon as he said it, he regretted it.

That, and he realised he kinda wanted to be that poor sod he spoke about.

“One thing for sure, I don’t think I ever went to get married,” he covered smoothly.

“Oh?” Lily asked, subconsciously running her hand through James’ hair, “You don’t?”

You looked up at him in curiosity too.

“Nah. It’s... it’s not for me. I couldn’t stick to one girl,” he shook his head. He was lying, he just didn’t want to admit the girl he would settle down with probably wouldn’t settle down with him.

“Oh right... I forgot who we were talking to,” you said, shaking your head. “What do you mean?” Sirius asked with a frown.

“Sirius Black: a new girl every night, no strings, no feelings. Never taking anything further. Leave them before they leave you right?”

That hurt him. Somehow, despite everything he’d been through with his parents, you sharing that you thought about him like that hurt more. He glared down at his plate. “Yeah, I’d prefer that than being like you. At least I know I’m wanted,” Sirius retaliated, not thinking about what he was saying until the words had left his mouth. He froze - why did he say that?

You gave a fake smile, and let out a humourless laugh, “I don’t have to deal with this.” Standing up, you grab your a few bits of food and bid goodbye to James, Lily and Remus - “I’ll see you guys in class.” - before heading out of the Great Hall.

“Y/n, wait!” Lily jumped up, running after you.

“Padfoot...” Remus shook his head at him. Sirius clenched his jaw, “What.” Sighing, James took a bite of his toast, “Just, sometimes you don’t know you’ve got a good thing when you’ve got it.”

“What are you talking about,” Sirius frowned. James nodded in the direction you had just ran off in. “Y/n?” Sirius said in surprise.

“I see the way you look at her Pads.”

Sirius scoffed, shaking his head.

”You look at her like she holds all the answers to the universe, like she’s your moon and stars, like you can’t bear to be without her. You like her. You do, don’t lie to me Pads, I can see right through you.”

Sighing, Sirius looked down at his drink, “So what if I do, she doesn’t like me like that.”

“You don’t see it, do you?” Remus let out a small smile as he turned the page of his newspaper. “See what?”

“You’re fucking oblivious mate.”

____________________

“I don’t know why I let him get to me,” You shook your head as you stood outside the bar. “It’s because you care about him,” Lily said gently, squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Yeah? Well I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t care about him, or his stupid face or his stupid suits or his stupid... jawline,” you sighed.

“I... I think I love him, Lily. I didn’t think I did before, but I’ve realised I do. And he’s an asshole. An utter and complete asshole and I... I fancy the fucking pants off of him. And I didn’t even realise. He came into the library after clearly being with someone the other week, his shirt and shirt a mess and-and I got annoyed. I thought it was just because he as a person annoys me but I’ve realised... well it’s because I wanted to be her. Whoever she was.”

Lily wrapped her arms around you and pulled you into a hug. “I think I’m just going to go to my dorm and skip class,” you whispered, hugging her back, “You head back to James and enjoy the rest of the day, okay?”

You pulled away, smiling encouragingly at Lily, who looked reluctant to let you go.

“I’ll come to check on you later,,” she finally said helplessly.

”I’m counting on it.”

____________________

“She likes you,” James said bluntly, shaking his head at his best friend. “What are you talking about?”

“She likes you. And you sleeping with other girls all the time hurts her,” James said as Lily rejoined the table.

“What? No it doesn’t,” Sirius shook his head, though he didn’t sound certain.

“Are you sure about that?” Lily asked. “Of course I’m sure, why would she care who I sleep with?”

”Why would anyone?” Lily posed the question pointedly. Sirius shrugged, staring down at his drink.

“For Merlin’s sake, she likes you Pads. Fuck, for someone so smart you sure can be stupid,” Remus said.

“Y/n doesn’t like me. Don’t be ridiculous,” Sirius shook his head. He paused for a moment as the news sunk in, “Y/n likes me?”

At the nods from Lily and James, Sirius jumped up and ran out of the hall.

He sprinted towards your common room, dashing around a corner as he saw a glimpse of your h/c hair.

“Y/n! Y/n wait!”

“Y/n!” you heard your name being called out. You turned around to see Sirius chasing after you.

“What could you possibly want now? You’ve been nothing but a dick to me! I thought maybe we’d become friends through bloody working together but clearly I was wrong! So what is it? What do you want?”

“I want to tell you I’ve decided that maybe I might want to get married some day.”

“What? Why would I need to know that?”

“Because I’ve found someone I want to marry.”

Your heart clenched - that hurt more than you expected.

“I thought you ‘couldn’t stick to one girl’,” you pointed out bitterly, raising an eyebrow in surprise. He gave a small shrug, “Yeah well, maybe I’ve decided I want to.” “Why the change of mind?”

“Someone changed it for me,” he smiled.

You nodded, swallowing as you tried to keep the smile from falling off your face, “Why are you telling me this?”

He leaned forward and it was only then that you realised how close he was to you. Your breath caught in your throat as you found yourself getting lost in the darkness of his eyes. He leant down slowly, nudging his nose against yours as he brushed his lips across your own gently. You smiled sadly, pulling away from him slowly, patting him on his chest.

“I er... I should go...” you said softly, moving out of his arms and trying to walk away. Sirius’ heart clenched, “Wait!”

He followed you down the hallway, reaching out to grab your waist and pull you back to him, “Why are you running away?”

“I’m panicking!” You looked into his grey eyes and tried to step back, but he held you close.

“Why?” He whispered, as if his voice would break if he spoke any louder.

“Because you’re Sirius Black, you-you sleep with girls and leave them soon after. I-I don’t want to be just another one of them,” you stuttered softly, closing your eyes and tilting your head down.

You felt him brush his fingers under your chin and slowing move your head up to face his as your eyes opened to meet his. He leant forward, his lips just about brushing yours again, “You’re not just another one of them sweetheart.”

“Then what am I?”

Sirius let out a breathy laugh and shook his head fondly. “You’re mine,” he murmured, before his lips were on yours.

[luvknow]

parasitic | bang chan

genre: bang chan x fem!reader | college au ; roommates au ; enemies-to-lovers ; alcohol mention summary: your roommate is going abroad for the semester and now you’re forced to share your apartment with bang chan, who you basically lived with for the past semester except he didn’t pay rent, he ate all of your food, and crashed on your couch after a long night out. you were going to do everything in your power to avoid him until your roommate comes back. that doesn’t work out so well. wc: 11.8k a/n: omg a month late, but merry christmas to @channiechanchan!! did you know it was me?? LMAO I’M SO SORRY LKJDSLKFJ IT’S ALSO NOT EVEN XMAS RELATED BUT....... I HOPE IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT, ILY SLKJDSL

The sun rays peeked through the gaps of the curtains letting you know that a beautiful Sunday was upon you. You would spend the morning making breakfast for you and your roommate, clean your room of all the bad vibes, knock out some homework, and light an overpriced candle to conclude a stress-free day.

A long morning stretch in bed was the start to your day, and you had the widest smile on your lips upon exiting your room as if there was nothing that could ruin your energy. That dropped quickly once you were greeted with a loud, snoring, almost-naked man face down and passed out on your couch.

“Sorry about him,” roomie Yeri said out of habit while practically crawling out of her room. “Again.”

She looked like a hot mess, with her hair frazzled in all directions and last night’s make-up still smeared around her eyes. Her timing was impeccable - it was like she could sense your annoyance through her walls. 

“Why?” you whined childishly. This had to be the tenth weekend by now!

“You know why! Lucas had his birthday party last night, remember? Which you were invited to but totally flaked last minute.”

“I have an exam this week.”

“We have an exam this week and it’s not until Thursday!”

“So? I like to be prepared!”

“Can you two shut up?” the bane of your existence interrupted. The newly brunette (who had dyed his hair in your living room, thanks to Yeri) ran a hand through his wild hair, hoping it’d alleviate some of the pain from his hangover. “I have a pounding headache.”

“And whose fault is that?” you scolded bitterly before yanking your blanket off of him. The poor man below you shriveled up and buried his musty legs under your beautiful couch pillows for some sense of warmth. “Not like you pay rent here for you to have the right to complain, or anything.”

“Lighten up, buttercup. You’re so uptight.”

“Gotta do my job around here and exterminate the parasites.”

“Suck my dick.”

“Too many STDs.”

Yeri chucked a pillow each at the both of you so you’d shut up and avoid waking up any grumpy neighbors. “Please, for the love of God, can you guys chill out for once so we can have a relaxing Sunday together?”

“Together?” you and Chan groaned simultaneously.

Yeri was not having it and shot a glare like an angry mother, to which you and Chan mumbled some sort of noise of confirmation and went about your separate ways. You inhabited the kitchen and Chan dragged himself to wash away the sticky shame and Hennessey in the shower. Yeri hopped over to help you make pancakes as if her two best friends weren’t just itching to pull each other’s hair out. She liked to think of herself as the glue of the group, like the quirky friend in the middle who was delusion to the tension in between. Neither of you had the heart to ruin her sitcom fantasy.

“Morning ~” she sang cutely.

“I hate him.”

“He’s not that bad!”

“You’ve been saying that the entire fall semester, but almost every weekend of mine has been ruined by his presence!”

Yeri winced and took a step back as she watched you vigorously mix the pancake batter faster than an electronic stand mixer. Another step back was taken while you violently dumped in the blueberries. Cooking and baking was one of your favorite hobbies and she knew you could be quite passionate about it, but she never saw you angry-cook before. It was a scary site to see, as if you being angry wasn’t scary enough.

“He’s only the way he is because you never gave him a chance.”

“What does that even mean?”

“He’s the type of person who likes to be liked, you know?”

“So? Don’t we all?”

“Of course, but it’s different with people like him. When those types of people meet someone who doesn’t like them, they can get a little… How do I say this? Defense mechanism-y?”

“Wouldn’t you think that would motivate him to, I don’t know, be nice to me and not inhabit my space and eat my food every weekend? Perhaps he’d kiss my ass a little?”

“Like I said, defense mechanism-y…”

“More like melodramatic.”

No matter how Yeri tried to explain to you how Chan was ‘different’, you weren’t buying it nor did you care to argue any longer. Why should you have to like him just because he was your best friend’s other best friend? This wasn’t some algebra problem that could be easily solved by the transitive property - this was a matter of respecting each others’ personal spaces and each other in general, and Chan had been the one to cross both of those lines first, that dick. While Yeri lectured like your math professor, you mindlessly hummed here and there pretending to understand, just as you would in actual math class.

The bathroom door opening prompted you and Yeri to shut up immediately. Then, a moist Chan walked out of the steam with nothing but a familiar lavender towel wrapped around his disgustingly chiseled waist.

“Is that my towel!?” you shrieked in fear.

“Yeah. Hope that’s ok with you!” The fake honey sweetness in his tone made your skin crawl like there were bees under the dermis. “By the way, you’re out of shampoo. I love this scent! What is it, tea tree and mint?”

Yeri had to hold you back from hitting him with a hot spatula and Chan managed to escape back into the bathroom with a change of clothes that he kept here ‘for emergencies’, of course. They hung on the open clothes rack in the living room that was meant to show off yours and Yeri’s tasteful jackets, but the aesthetic was ruined early fall and even your jackets began to smell of Chan’s sophisticated cologne.

“I’m gonna kill him in his sleep,” you seethed.

Yeri patted your head like you were an angry kitten. “Killing the captain of the basketball team isn’t exactly kosher, love.”

“I’ll show you kosher.”

“Can’t keep on threatening me, babe,” Chan tisked while throwing on a t-shirt upon entering the A and B conversation.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m just trying to make our friendship better. You know, since we’ll be roommates soon.”

Excuse me, what? “What are you talking about…”

“Oh, you don’t know?” a sly Chan smirked.

When you turned to interrogate Yeri, she quickly stopped the sign language that clearly meant ‘shut your GODDAMN MOUTH, Christopher’ and gave you that sweet, innocent smile that let her get away with practically anything because who could say no to her rosy cheeks and rainbow-shaped eyes?

“Yeri, what is he talking about…?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, about that… I got accepted into the study abroad program!”

“That’s amazing and I am very proud of you and I love you, but what does this cockroach mean when he says we’ll be roommates soon!?”

“Hey!” he pouted.

“Oh, shut it!”

“Ah, well, I figured to lessen the burden of paying double the rent, I thought it’d, you know, take it upon myself to save you the stress of finding a subletter and Chan was the only one available…”

“Really? Of the entire cheerleading team, the pottery club, the damn pilates and cycling club, hell even the other players on the basketball team, Chan was the only one free to sublet? The only one?”

“Um... yes?”

“You know, I don’t really consent to this -”

“Please, _____, it will only be for the semester, I promise! I leave next week and I can’t take much with me, and Chan is the only person I trust to stay in my room and not ruin anything and steal my underwear!”

“How can you say that when he’s probably going to bring girls home and do them on your bed!?”

“I would never do that!” Chan interjected.

“Yeah, ok.”

“No, really! Why would I ruin her bed when I can just ruin yours while you’re gone?”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Christopher -!”

“See!” Yeri brought the two of you into a esophagus-crushing headlock so you two would shut up. “You two are already getting along so well!!”

Chan managed to slip away and steal you from Yeri, giving you a rough knuckle sandwich. “We’ll get along swimmingly, Yer-bear, I promise. Isn’t that right, _____?”

Yeri couldn’t help but look at you both with sparkly eyes, thinking that yes, maybe there’s a chance that a beautiful friendship could blossom from this! Jabbing an elbow to his ribs with a fake smile of your own, you wordless agree with a nod.

As long as Chan stayed in his room and you stayed in yours, maybe there wouldn’t be much to worry about, right?

--

The first week with Chan was exactly how you expected it - seeing his bare ass because he never closed the bathroom door, stealing your snacks, taking up the living room space, and blasting his loud soundcloud music that you could hear through your paper-thin walls. Still, even through all the frustration and the annoyance, you thought it would be best if you two just lived your lives separately and didn’t bother making nice with each other. Rather than fighting and yelling, ignoring each other for the sake of everyone’s sanity was for the best.

What pushed you to the edge was when he took the last pack of fruit snacks you were really looking forward to after a long week of classes.

“Oh, come on!” you groaned into the cupboard. “Chan!”

“Yes, darling?” he called from his - Yeri’s - bedroom, to which you stomped over to confront him. Seeing a grown man on Yeri’s white desk on a pink gaming chair playing some PC game was truly a sight to see.

“Did you eat the last of my fruit snacks!?”

The sly boy swiveled the desk chair to face you. “Ooh, was that the last one? I swear there was one left…”

“Come on, dude!”

“I’m sorry, ok, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal! That’s not cool!”

“No, what’s not cool is that you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

You were taken aback by his bold, although correct, assumption. You really didn’t expect him to call you out on this so early. “I… have not…!”

“You’re such a liar!” He pointed accusingly. Although you seemed heated in the argument, Chan was grinning because of course he was right, that dick.

“You don’t think I have anything better to do, like do my homework or-or hang out with friends outside of this apartment?”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean every time you come home and see me in the living room, you go straight to your room.”

“That’s normal!”

“Ah yes, but then you wait until I go into my room -”

“Yeri’s room.”

“- to cook dinner or grab a snack.”

“That’s just a coincidence -”

“How about the opposite, when I come home and you’re chilling in the living room and then you go to your room and shut the door? No ‘hi, how was your day’, or anything.”

“Well -”

“Or how about the mornings, when you’re sitting at the kitchen table relaxing and drinking something warm and sweet-smelling with a tired smile on your face because this is the only time in your day where you get to truly relax, but the second I leave my room to go to the bathroom or grab some water, you chug whatever’s barely boiling in your cup, dump it in the sink, and head out.”

“... I’m that obvious, huh?”

“Wow, look at that smug look on your face,” he pointed again. You didn’t even feel that proud smile on your lips. But Chan didn’t think it was amusing. His lips formed a frown, like he was insulted or even hurt at how cold you could be towards him. “What have I done to make you hate me this much?”

Your eyes bulged incredulously. “Let’s go down memory lane, shall we? Almost every weekend of the fall semester you; crashed on our couch, ate all of our ramen and eggs and sriraicha the morning after to recover from your massive hangover, used our laundry detergent, and used our bath products just to name a few! All without a simple thank you or even asking beforehand!”

Chan couldn’t deny that yes, maybe he’d been a little, um, unceremonious with his intrusion on your life, but come on, everyone deserves a second chance! The very prideful man in front of you rolled Yeri’s pink chair to the threshold only to clasp your hands together in his and now you were sweating.

“Ok, I’ll admit that I was a terrible guest this past semester.” Does an apology count if the guilty party rolls his eyes? “So, out of the goodness of my heart, I am very, very sorry.”

“My ass.”

“What!? Does this not look sincere to you?” he asked, pointing to his fake pouty face.

“Ok, I’m leaving.”

“No no no, c’mon!” Chan whined as he chased you into the living room. He grabbed your trailing hand to stop you. “Look, I’m truly sorry that I sometimes use your things -”

“Always use my things.”

“Most of the time use your things. I am sorry, really. Please believe me, ok? Aren’t you tired of avoiding me all the time?”

A tired sigh escaped you because you were absolutely exhausted from it. “I accept your semi-sincere apology. But why, for the love of God, why don’t you ever use Yeri’s things!? Why mine? She’s the one that’s your friend!”

“Honestly? I wanted to get your attention.”

“Oh, my God, what are you, five?”

“Hey, you’re the one who ignored me like a rude hostess from the get-go! You never gave me a chance!”

“My first impression of you was all I needed to not give you one.”

“I couldn’t have been that bad.”

“You puked in my backpack with some of my textbooks in it and poor Yeri had to clean up your mess!”

“Oh yeah, I remember that… That was on Sunwoo’s birthday.” You tried walking away again, but Chan’s grip was too strong. “Ok, fine, I’ll admit my first impression was horrendous, but you never let me redeem myself after that, so I kept annoying you so you’d confront me about it! That’s not fair that you judged me so quickly!”

“Yeah, and look how annoying me turned out! It went from my first impression to my thousandth impression.”

“I mean, it eventually worked, right?”

Another tired sigh. “Chan, is there a purpose to this?”

“Yes. I want to start over.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Start over? Like, erase all the shit that happened between us?”

“Exactly. A clean slate. Clean plates, I’ll even do your dishes tonight.”

You did hate doing the dishes… And you were so tired of stressing out over avoiding him, even if it had only been a week. After a long, painful pause, you held out your hand for him to shake. “Fine, a clean slate it is.”

A prideful and grinning roommate gladly shook your hand. “I pledge to not be an asshole anymore.”

“And I promise not to have a stick up my ass.”

“Wow, look how far we’ve come, huh? Cheers to a new friendship?”

“After you do my dishes.”

“... Fair enough.”

To commemorate this new and fresh friendship, you joined Chan in the kitchen. You didn’t do anything as he hand-washed your handmade dishes made in pottery class, but in return for eating your last fruit snack pack, he offered you some cookies he’d been hiding to which you gladly obliged. It was a peaceful silence in the kitchen other than the clinking of dishes and running water that offered some white noise while you read one of your books (after Chan called you a nerd). This had to be the most stress-free thirty minutes of your life.

“So,” your new ‘friend’, if you’d generously call him, began after finishing the dishes. He took a seat next to you and grabbed a cookie of his own. “Now that we’re cool and all, I would like to formally invite you to our basketball game tomorrow.”

"First of all, we're not totally cool just yet. Think of this as like a trial. Gotta pay your premium subscription fees before getting the premium benefits.”

“Yeah, yeah, so do you wanna go or not?"

"Hm, a basketball game? Like you're playing in it?"

"As the captain, I sure hope so."

You thought about it for a second - what terrible things could possibly come about if you went to one of Chan's basketball games? Well, it's set in a crowded and sweaty arena, whose crowd and players are also sweaty, it was loud, the food and drinks were expensive, and you literally could not care less about basketball. But, out of the goodness of your heart, which was now willing to give people a second chance for some reason, maybe you could tolerate sitting through a quarter or two.

"Sure, I'll go."

"Really? I wasn't expecting that."

"Then why'd you bother asking?"

"I'm tryna be homies, and that's what homies do! Invite homies to their basketball games."

"Please don't call me homie."

"Ok, home skillet."

"I'm gonna be honest, I don't know anything about basketball."

"Like, at all?"

"I know the cool far shots are worth like three points, right?"

"Oh, darling, you have a lot to learn. Here, lemme do a spark notes run down."

Professor Chan, PhD in sports and partying, took however many hours to explain. You lost track after two. At the end of the night, all of the cookies and milk were gone and you both went to bed at two in the morning.

--

"You, at a basketball game!?" Yeri snorted from the other side of the world. "And you and Chan being civilized!? Lord, how long have I been gone?"

"I have many regrets…"

"Don't say that! I think it's cute that you guys are finally getting along. Who would've thought that locking you two in the same apartment for one week was all that it took?"

"It might have been sooner if he'd just apologized right away instead of stealing all of my stuff to get my attention."

"Yup, sounds like Christopher."

"So you're coming back soon, right…?"

"If soon means a couple of months, yes."

"Yeri ~!" you whined, hopelessly missing your Sunday night partner watching crime documentaries.

"Chill, you big baby, just hang out with Chan if you're so lonely."

"Ugh, gross." Ironically enough, you stepped on a freshly-spat wad of gum upon entering the half-filled gymnasium.

"But not too often cuz, you know, you might fall in love ~"

You hoped no one saw the way your face twisted in disgust. "Are you delusional!?"

"Or even worse, you two might get drunk and make out and then fu -"

"OH-KAY, bye, Yer-bear love you!" You hung up immediately, traumatized at the thought she planted in your head. You hated how your face heated up so brightly. Don’t sweat it, _____! There’s no way that something like that could blossom from something that was nothing!

"Hey, you actually made it -" Chan had burst into your bubble without a warning, causing you to jump and drop your phone. After wiping off another fresh glob of gum from your phone screen this time, you bucked up the courage to stand face-to-face with a confused Chan wearing his basketball uniform. "Jeez, you good? You're all blushy. Ah, you saw Jaehyun's nudes, didn't you?"

"No, idiot! You just startled me, although I should be used to you invading my space by now."

“Ha ha. Stop being weird and take a seat. We’re still warming up, but hopefully we’ll start soon.”

“Uh, is there like, designated seating, or?”

Chan’s dimply smile accompanied a rough hair ruffle. “How cute, you’ve never been to a game before, huh?”

“I would rather die than willingly pay to go here on my leisure.”

A strong, sweaty arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Sit right over there,” he said, pointing to a single spot in the middle of the one hundred level that allowed for the best view of the entire court. “You’ll see me in action the whole time.”

“Next to the dude eating a chili dog and the chick with a cut-out of Woojin’s face?”

“The superfan section truly is not of this world.”

“If I came all the way here just to watch you lose, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“Don’t worry, baby, we never lose!”

The coach called Chan back to warm up some more which left you no choice but to enter the germ-infested purgatory and sit in between the superfans. Glancing at the other team, it was clear that they had the intimidation factor of being the taller and bigger players, so you weren’t sure how this was going to turn out. But your team, although smaller, had an enormous amount of unwavering energy. Perhaps it was because they were playing at home and had the entire half of this court filled to the brim cheering their names.

Chan was busy next to the couch, watching the form of his teammates as they were shooting three pointers. There was no doubt to anyone, even if no one had ever seen him before, that he was the captain. Who knew the barf-filled, void for a stomach, almost always naked asshole had the mindset of a lion? Every now and again, he’d pull one of his teammates to the side, probably a newbie to the varsity team, and help him with his form or give pointers or remind him of what play they were going to execute once the buzzer rang.

At some point, you realized you were watching him for far too long because he caught you right where he placed you. By the smirk on his lips, you’ll never hear the end of it if you see each other back at the apartment, and you would have looked away almost immediately if he hadn’t grabbed a ball not a second later. What was he doing?

Chan dribbled the ball to the free throw line (at least you think that’s what it’s called). He looked at you again, but this time he was pointing, like he was challenging you. Every pair of eyes in the gymnasium managed to pinpoint his target to you and if he thought you were blushy before, he should really see you up close now. After the very dramatic scene, Chan focused on dribbling the ball a few times which brought everyone’s attention back to him, thankfully. He dribbled a bit more, stopped to set up his shot, followed through and swoosh, there it went, right into the basket like a mathematician's perfect parabola.

“That was for you,” he mouthed silently with a sense of tease dripping from every word.

Normally, you might have flicked him off, but who were you to ruin the vibe just before the game started? Out of the goodness of your heart, you lightly clapped at his performance like this was the opera.

And so the game began! Mingyu, since he was the tallest member, did that thing where they toss the ball up in the air and they try to get it on their side, and since he was like 6’5”, it was easy for Chan’s team to start with the ball. There was a lot of back and forth head movements and eye scanning and you felt like your brain was being shaken up. To be honest, before you stepped into the stadium, you thought that none of this was going to excite you in the least. The idea of sweaty boys running around with a ball was completely barbaric, didn’t you think? But when someone, especially Chan, shot the ball or blocked it or did some weird dancey footwork, you gasped and cheered with the rest of the gym, the spirit of the game blooming in your soul much to your resistance.

The game ended almost too quickly and thankfully your team won. All of the superfans and the cheerleaders ran towards the team, congratulating them with cheers and hugs and mounting their beloved captain on their shoulders. Chan had his bright and dimply smile you’ve been seeing too often this week. You considered waiting until the crowd died down so you could congratulate him right then, but being the captain meant he was the center of everyone’s attention, not just yours. You shrugged off the impatience and headed for home. You could always congratulate him tomorrow, so long as he hasn’t puked anywhere.

Just before exiting the gym, you heard your name being called.

“_____, wait!” Chan yelled, sprinting to you as soon as his people made a walkway.

“I guess a congratulations is in order,” you said. “Congrats on winning. You looked super cool out there.”

“Hold on, can you say that one more time?” he teased, whipping out his phone to record you.

“Congrats, asshole!” you greeted the camera with double birdies.

“Thank you, m’lady. Where are you going now -”

“Channie!” a cute voice cried. Channie?

“Miyeonie!” he parroted back at the pretty cheerleader.

“Are you coming with us to Mingyu’s or what?”

You almost forgot it was the weekend already. It was time for drunk Chan shenanigans to ensue and that meant locking yourself up in your room and hiding the newly-bought fruit snacks.

“Oh, uh…”

Chan looked back at you like he was about to ditch his little sibling who had asked to play with him. Before any embarrassing pity invites were thrown out, you quickly bid your farewell.

“I’ll see you later, Channie ~” you waved off playfully.

“_____, hold on,” he said in urgency. Oh no, please don’t do what you think he’s doing… “Uh, I think I’m going to skip out on tonight, Miyeon.”

Both of you looked at him like he had three heads and two tails. Miyeon’s the only one brave enough to speak up on it. “Party Boy Channie is ditching us tonight? Why?”

“I’m super tired.” You’re full of shit, Chan! Why are you ruining my quiet night in!? “I’ll catch you guys next week, though.”

“Fine. Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Ok ~” She then quickly kissed him on his lips and he welcomed it fully like they’ve been doing that for some time now. Could it be that Party Boy Channie has finally settled down, despite all of his sloppy stories he used to slur about every weekend? How was it that he, of all scumbags, was able to have a significant other and you couldn’t even get a tinder date! “I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t get too wild tonight.”

“No promises!”

Chan sighed helplessly and turned to face a disgusted? Shocked? No, a very uncomfortable you who had watched a corny teen drama movie unfold right in your face.

“Sorry about that,” he said sincerely for once.

“Oh please, I absolutely love watching true love express itself right in front of me, Channie.”

He rolled his eyes. “First of all, it’s not love.”

“Really? You’re telling me kissing pretty cheerleaders isn’t your love language?”

“Not when they cling to me like mothballs.”

“You’re so cruel, Channie.”

“Stop calling me that,” he warned. “Secondly, what are we doing tonight?”

“We? I don’t know who this we is, but I’m going home.”

“Aw, c’mon, really? I just ditched a Kim Mingyu party and perhaps some ass for some quality roommate bonding time!”

“I did not ask you to do that.”

“Don’t you wanna go out to eat or something? I’ll even pay for you.”

“No, because there’s food at home.”

“There isn’t food at home, you liar!”

“Well ok, not yet, I still have to go to the market first and then I’ll cook.”

“Oh?” You can cook? He certainly didn’t know that. “You’re cooking us dinner?”

“I’m cooking me dinner.” Chan folded his hands and gave you a poor excuse for puppy eyes. But he did just win the game, and you bet doing all that sporty stuff made him starving. “But I guess I can make you a plate... I guess you and I can… eat together…”

“Don’t sound too excited.”

“I’m clearly holding back my excitement.”

Usually in movies or tv, they have the head chefs of famous local restaurants come to the markets between four and five in the morning. The amateur chefs like yourself prefer to pick off what was left for much cheaper at night time. It’s not that the stuff left over was any bad, it was just the important people managed to pick out all the perfect prawns and symmetrical vegetables and what have you. It was much less stressful in the evenings anyways, when everyone was already home cooking and you were left to wander as you pleased before the vendors packed up for the day.

“Do you come here all the time to grocery shop?” a freshly-washed Chan asked beside you. When he went grocery shopping, as long as the produce didn’t have any bruises and the meat was red, that’s all he needed. He never inspected the peaches for its plumpness or asked what time the fish was caught today, unlike you, though now and again he’ll slap a watermelon to test its juiciness.

“Goodness, no, am I made of money?”

“How expensive can this place be, they’re not even in a store.”

“Oh, Chan the naivete. Think of the most expensive piece of produce you’ve ever bought. It’s probably organic, right? Free of pesticides and the like?”

“I think it was an avocado.”

“Right, completely ridiculous that you’re paying $2.50 per avocado. The avocadoes here? Double that.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I really wish I was. Those are the morning price avocadoes though. Nighttime shoppers like us are lucky to snag them for $3.50.”

“Why bother paying so much when you can go to the local store across the street from your house?”

“Even though I can get much more for the price I’m paying here,” you paused and handed Chan the brightest and quite possibly the smallest strawberry he’d ever seen. “You can taste the difference.”

Snipping off the green stem and leaves, the clueless boy popped the berry in his mouth and you watch the flavor brighten his eyes.

“Quality over quantity,” you bragged.

The rest of your time there, you had to stop Chan from eating a single grape from every little basket at every single vendor.

“You are a child.”

“Baby me, baby.”

Coming back to the apartment with your’s and Chan’s arms full of groceries, anxiousness rushed in the second you stepped beyond the threshold. It occurred to you that you’ve never actually cooked for anyone before besides Yeri. This will be the second time you’ll see someone’s first reaction to your cooking, and it’ll be from your worst enemy.

“Need me to sous chef, head chef?” he asked while unpacking.

“Actually, that would help me a lot. Could you wash the vegetables?”

“Sure. While we’re at it, can I get your opinion on something?”

You raised your brow in confusion. “Do I have the knowledge for it?”

“You have ears, so yes.”

From that point moving forward, you decided not to question Chan because he was going to do whatever he wanted anyways. As you prepped the kitchen, you ignored the loud rustling in the living room with the occasional ‘ow, fuck’ following a stubbed toe. Out of curiosity and right before yelling at him to hurry up, Chan had finally pressed the play button and an unfamiliar song played through his massive speakers that he brought outside.

“Is this your new song?” you asked.

He did the ‘hand-sexily-but-also-shyly-running-through-my-hair’ thing before answering. “Yeah, and I’m not sure if I like it that much. The guys say it sounds good, but they’re my homies so they have to say that, y’know?”

“At least you know I won’t bullshit you.”

“Be gentle at least, please.”

“I will once you help me with dinner finally.”

“Right, right.”

Of course one song didn’t cover the entirety of the dinner preparation. After the one, which you honest to God liked a lot (“Stop lying.” “I’m not! You asked me to be honest, dick!”), Chan shyly but happily showed you more of his work. Some of it was already posted to his Soundcloud and some weren’t uploaded because he either hated them or he was stuck and left unfinished.

“Like, how is it possible that I can’t finish a project whose finished product is less than three minutes long!?” By now, Chan gave up trying to help after he cut his finger several times and sat at the table munching on his expensive basket of berries as he explained his creative block to you as if you were his therapist. “It makes me seem lazy, doesn’t it?”

“People hit creative walls all the time,” you reassured. “Don’t get yourself down about it.”

“Have you ever even hit a wall before?” he challenged.

“I do in the kitchen all the time, you ass.”

“How is that even possible? What walls can you even hit in the kitchen?”

“The difference between baking and cooking is that baking has less room for error, but tons of room for visual creativity, which is why I think baking is much harder. Cooking measurements for a meal, on the other hand, are meant to be adjusted with freedom which is nice, but how many times can someone change the presentation of a bowl of rice, meat, and vegetables?”

A bowl of said food was placed in front of a drooling Chan who had to sit through the tortuous cooking process smelling the aromatics and satiate his rumbling tummy with sour fruit. He hadn’t even taken a bite yet and his eyes were already sparkling with anticipation. It was reactions like his that made you the most embarrassed because what if he tasted it and hated it!?

“Whoa, this looks delicious!” he beamed.

“You didn’t think I could cook, did you.”

“No, I thought you were joking and when you weren’t I was like, ‘I HAVE to taste her cooking’. I'm a little disappointed that it doesn’t look inedible.”

“Ha ha, just eat your food, parasite.”

With anticipation, you watched Chan take a huge bite with all the fixins on the spoon. You could sense the awkwardness when he turned away.

“Stop staring at me,” he mumbled with cheeks full of rice.

“Not until you tell me what you think.”

“Well, of course it tastes good.”

“Really?”

“Yes, now stop looking at me, I’m not your zoo animal.”

A huge sigh of relief escaped you and a heavy weight off your chest was relieved. Something about cooking for new people always made you want to pass out, but if both your best friend and your best enemy admit to how good it is, maybe you’ll become more open to the idea of cooking for others more often. You DID like that huge sense of pride that rushed in.

Chan finished the bowl in two minutes. He held it up for you to take. “More, please.”

“Wow, ok.”

You were lucky enough to get a bowl yourself with Chan practically inhaling everything, and even then he still had room for dessert. It was atrocious how much a college man could eat.

“They say someone’s cooking says a lot about them,” Chan proposed while washing down his food with soda.

“They who?”

“I don’t know, the internet?” he shrugged.

“Oh, yeah? What does the internet say about a bowl of rice for dinner?”

“That you’re uptight and don’t like to have fun.”

“Hey!”

“And probably a virgin.”

Your cheeks burned an embarrassingly bright red at the proclamation. “Wh-What makes you say that!?”

“It’s a safe meal to make. You know, hard to mess up and a little simple so it’ll always taste good?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Where’s the excitement, _____? The improvisation!?”

“There’s not much room to improv in cooking, Christopher.”

“Don’t you want to live a little? Have some spontaneity?”

“Are we still talking about my cooking or…?”

“No, dumbass, I mean your life, too!” Chan hopped up from his chair and took your hand to twirl you around the kitchen like the scene in Beauty and the Beast. Oh God, you hoped you didn’t accidentally poison him or that he was having a weird allergic reaction to sesame, or something. “Have some fun for once!”

You somehow broke away from the hypnotic dance and stood as far away from that crazy man as possible. “Don’t act like you know me all of a sudden because you read some corny Buzzfeed article about a fucking bowl of rice and meat, Bang Chan!”

“What do you mean, I’ve come to know you for a whole semester.”

“A whole semester of being blacked out.”

“Hey, that means nothing!”

“Ok. Tell me one thing you know about me from a whole semester of being unconscious on my couch.”

“You have an in-depth skin care routine.”

“Anyone can guess that.”

“From the books you have lying around and a few paintings on the wall, you dabble in that horoscope bull shit.”

“So do a lot of girls, next.”

“You like heart and star-shaped marshmallows in your hot cocoa.”

You’ll admit that one had you silent for a moment. Only Yeri knew about that, but that was because those were the only marshmallows you bought specifically for hot cocoa. They add a little pizazz to your drink, especially with the edible glitter. “That doesn’t count, there’s no other marshmallow in the apartment.”

“True,” he began, pointing an accusing finger at you. “But you like a whole handful of marshmallows in your mug.”

“... S-So -”

“Ah ha, got one!” 

“So what, a ton of people like marshmallows!”

“Yeah, but not pink hearts and purple stars ones!”

“How do you even know that?”

“Hm. I think it was the night of Hongjoong’s birthday. Yeah, I passed out, woke up, whined to Yeri, and she made me hot cocoa and said, ‘Do you care if the marshmallows are shaped like hearts and stars?’ And I said, ‘I ONLY want hearts and stars’.”

A shy smile spread across your lips. It’s moments like these when you weren’t chewing his ear off that he finds you a little cute. Just a little.

“Is there a reason for those specific marshmallows?” he asked.

“They’re cute,” you pouted.

“Well, do I get a prize for knowing one thing about you?”

“Yeah, doing the dishes.”

“What!?”

“I cooked now you clean!” you said before running off to your room.

A tired, but willing Chan dragged his feet to the sink. He could just throw all of the dishes in the dishwasher, but somehow hand-washing while reminiscing about all the Fridays he’s crashed here with you barking like a chihuahua the next morning was much more fun.

His cheeks hurt from smiling too much by the end of that night.

--

A virgin… How the hell does cooking a bowl of rice for your roommate somehow make you a virgin!?

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t the most outstanding meal you’ve ever made or could have cooked for him, but that ungrateful man who couldn’t even fry an egg shouldn’t be so picky!

But why, of all the insults and swears he’s ever thrown at you, was virgin the one that hit you the most?

Who cares if you were or weren’t one! What difference did that make you as a person, right!? At first glance, of course no one would be able to tell whether you were or weren’t one, but what did that say about people who did know you, like Chan and Yeri? Was that the kind of vibe you gave off? Were you too goody-goody, too play-by-the-rules? Was Chan right when he said your life lacked that spark, that spontaneity he seemed to so-crave?

Now that you thought about it, you haven’t gone out on a date or even found someone remotely interesting in a very long time… Since your first year of college at the very least.

Maybe you should show him how spontaneous you could get.

“That’s another thing I noticed last semester,” Chan’s charming accent shook you from your thoughts. You looked to the boy intruding in your room who leaned against the door frame, once again in only his pajama pants and a wet towel slung over his neck to barely cover his torso. He was built like he was carved from the finest slab of marble - how was his skin so white and smooth? “You tend to space out a lot, especially when you’re working on something.”

“How can you tell?”

“You get that dumb look on your face.”

“You mean the same one you have on all the time?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“Thank you. What are you getting all dressed up for on a Tuesday night?”

“Miyeon said she was coming over like, ten minutes ago and I felt musty, so here I am, half naked in front of your door like this is the greatest dream you’ve ever had.”

“Is that the cheerleader from your game last weekend?” Chan hummed as a response, drying his hair with the towel around his neck and a toothbrush in his mouth. “Is she your girlfriend?”

You heard him choke on the toothpaste. “God, no, why do you think that?”

“I mean she kissed you… ?”

“Eh, it’s kind of an on-again-off-again thing, but nothing was ever official between us.” A sudden realization hit Chan and then that sly smirk that loved to tease you came back to haunt you. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“Jealous of some cheerleader who’s clearly in love with a man who has no interest in her while he lives with another woman?” you scoffed. “Green with envy.”

“At least I have someone in my life!” he called from the bathroom.

That, too, hit a little too close to your heart. He was right - at least he had someone who kept him company, who adored him, who he could go out on dates with… And what did you have? A lousy roommate who uses your body wash.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked after coming back fully clothed. Your bed was much softer than Yeri’s, who had a rock hard firm mattress. Perhaps Chan should take his naps here instead.

“Nothing. What is there to do on a Tuesday night?”

“Lots of things! It’s Taco Tuesday at that food truck on campus, it’s Tteokbokki Tuesday at that Auntie’s restaurant by the bookstore, ooh and the record store down the street gives out free seltzer water for the hipsters.”

“Is that what you and Miyeon are doing tonight?”

“No, she just wanted to make-out I think.”

“How romantic…”

Chan laid on your bed and kept his thoughts to himself for a while. Somehow after only a few weeks of living together did you tolerate his presence enough to not nag him to get out of your room, let alone off your bed. While you studied the infinite pages of words in your textbook, Chan was able to steal a few glances. The way your brows furrowed in frustration, the messiness of your hair, the slight pout in your lips, it was all quite cute for someone as grouchy as yourself. Although he supposed he’d be an asshole, too, if he was studying seven days a week. You must be tired and frustrated.

Without you paying attention, he whipped out his phone and texted his date.

“Darn,” he sighed convincingly. “Miyeon just cancelled on me.”

“Good for her.”

“Well, now that I’m free, it looks like it’s just you and me tonight.”

“Sike, I have some homework to do.”

“Oh, yeah?” Chan hopped off the bed and peaked over your shoulder at your homework. He was so close that you could smell his woodsy cologne. You kind of liked it. Kind of. “Homework that’s due on Friday? God, _____, at least try to be cool, you nerd.”

“Hey!”

“Get dressed, those tacos and tteokbokki won’t be piping hot forever ~”

“I’m not going!” you tried to argue, but that annoying boy was already out of your room and putting his shoes on. Evil chuckling could be heard from the living room - what a weirdo. As your stomach violently growled, it was really hard to resist such a tempting offer of food, even if it meant going with Chan.

An impatient roommate danced his way to exit. “I’m walking out the door ~”

“Chill, will you?” you mumbled while throwing on your coat. “How are you going to invite me and then abandon me?”

“Then move faster.”

“You move faster…”

“Ah ~” Chan pinched your cheek lightly. “You’re kinda cute like this.”

“Shut up.”

“You know, with trying to kick up the spontaneity in your life and what-not.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

It’s a cold Tuesday night and you almost heavily regret wanting to be spontaneous and cute and uncaring, all because a soundcloud rapper called you a virgin. But the thought of a hot cup of spicy rice cakes was enough for you to travel through the polar vortex. It helped that you weren’t the only one suffering.

“All those nights I crashed on your couch, I’d always buy a cup of this gold before heading over,” Chan admitted. “It was a shame for the days I threw it up.”

“Ah, no wonder your puke is red! I thought you were always almost dying.”

“Sometimes I wished I was.”

Of course the auntie knew Chan by the amount of times he’s stumbled upon the place drunk off his ass (“Wow, you’re walking straight and talking in sentences today!” “Ha ha, auntie…”). The fiery cup of rice cake was the perfect hand-warmer.

“Do I not give off the virgin vibe yet?” you half-joked.

A charming burst of laughter came from your annoying roommate. How could he forget that he called you that! “You’re not hung up on that, are you?”

“I just… I mean, do you think that’s the reason why…” you struggled to speak your insecurities into existence because once you did, that meant they were real and totally holding you back.

“Why what?”

“Tell me something - am I really that uptight? Does it make me seem… I don’t know, unapproachable? Unlikable, even?”

“Please, you are totally uptight.” A loud, unladylike groan echoed throughout the crowded streets of campus. “Unapproachable, yes. Unlikable? I mean, not necessarily? Some guys think that’s hot.”

“So what you’re saying is I’ll be single forever or marry some pushover.”

“Hey, don’t put words into my mouth! Look, if you really want to change how your aura appears to people, you already have! You’re out on a Tuesday night eating rice cakes with the sexiest guy you know. That’s progress in my book, all thanks to me.”

“Somehow you’ve turned my insecurities into praising yourself.” It was impressive, honestly. “You’re something else, Christopher.”

“Thank you!”

“What’s next on our impromptu tour of the town?”

“Ya like vinyl?”

“Huh?”

Chan said nothing else as he cut you off and walked right into the record shop and low and behold, potential buyers were holding skinny cans of flavored seltzer.

“C’mon, princess, there’s not enough seltzer for everyone!” Chan urged.

The vastness and number of collections of the record shop rivaled the local book shop down the street. Although much noisier and haphazard, the concept was still the same and the neon signs and signed posters gave the shop quite the personality. Actually, it was almost as if it was Chan personified. 

In front of you was a basketball-loving ear-pierced punk-ass roommate who wore leather jackets in sub-freezing temperatures and didn’t know how to fold his laundry flipping through the Wu-Tang Clan basket. And there was you, the personified small local bookstore, watching him longingly and wishing you could be like him, who was cool enough to attract other cool people and be someone so approachable and likable. He was the complete opposite of you, and yet somehow you’re both here together, acting like you never had to kick his ass for using your toothbrush four too many times.

How was it possible to think that one day, someone could be in love with a plain and boring bookstore like yourself? Could someone like Chan love someone like you one day?

You hoped so.

Chan wondered where you were and found you looking at him with tired eyes. Of all the things to look at, you somehow could only look at him. With his dimply smile, he said, “Falling in love with me?”

Something made you want to say yes. “Did you find something you like?”

He silently gestured to you to come over with a lazy hand. As expected, he pulled out one of the Wu-Tang Clan records and played it on one of the modern record players that had one set of headphones at the station.

“Here, put these on,” he instructed while putting the over-ear headphones on. A smooth and unique rap style voiced over the equally-smooth instrumentals. It was unlike anything you’ve heard before. Perhaps Chan’s intellectual layers lied within his knowledge in music.

A slight pressure pressed against your right ear. You couldn’t see from your peripherals, but you could smell Chan’s rustic cologne again, and that itself already made you blush deeper shades of red than you could ever imagine. Since there was only one set of headphones, Chan obviously had no other choice but to listen to this track with you like this - invading your space bubble and making you weak in the knees.

“Do you like it?” you could barely hear.

“I do,” you replied. The song wouldn’t be over for another two minutes and Chan refused to move. “Is this what you like?”

“It’s inspirational to me.” The vibrations of his voice almost sent you into shock because wow, was he close to you or what.

He knew you were nervous. He could tell simply by how your shoulders squared the moment his ear pressed on the outside of the headphones. That’s yet another detail he’s come to notice while crashing on your couch and living with you. Whether you were nervous because he was shirtless after coming out of the shower or you were annoyed because he’d eaten all of the ice cream you were saving in the back corner of the freezer, you always straightened your posture upon seeing him because God forgive you ever show any emotion. Why were you like those stuck-up librarians at the hipster bookstores down the street who turned a blind eye to anyone who didn’t look like they read books?

Or maybe, just maybe, you were liking this. You liked being in close proximity to the sexiest guy you’ve ever laid eyes on. You liked the almost-but-not-really skinship you almost-but-not-really shared. You were nervous, not annoyed, weren’t you? Or were you annoyed that you’re nervous around your most hated enemy?

Either way, Chan wins, and that’s all that mattered to him.

You spent most of the spontaneous night in the record store listening to soul, trot, pop punk, underground hip-hop, and everything in between. Quite literally in-between, as Chan would not stop pressing his face to yours because he refused to find a second pair of headphones for him to borrow.

“Stop doing that!” you whined for the fifth time.

“I wanna listen, too ~”

“Then go steal another set of headphones!”

“But I like this. It’s way more fun. And your cheeks are so hot that the radiated heat is warming my face up.”

You’re silent at that point forward because your cheeks thought their purpose in life was to burn as hot as the sun and serve as a radiator to intrusive boys who wanted nothing more than to listen to good music with you.

Honestly, what’s there to complain about?

The record store didn’t close until midnight and you practically stayed until then. At that point, Chan with his black hole for a stomach was hungry again and led you to the taco truck he talked about earlier.

“Is it Taco Tuesday still if it’s past midnight?” you wondered.

“It’s still Tuesday until the sun comes up in my books.”

Tacos weren’t exactly an easy-to-eat street food, so you used the tin foiled rolls as hand warmers until you were back in the comfort of your kitchen where you could happily eat greasy tacos with your sworn enemy.

“What do midnight tacos say about me now?” you questioned the food and vibe expert across the table.

“They say you like cliches and you care a little too much about what people think of you.”

“How the hell did you come up with that?”

“Please, Taco Tuesday is so cliche! And you conformed to it because you want to seem more playful and less of a stick-up-your-ass, am I right?”

The pout on your lips was enough of an answer. “Now I feel like a virgin in sheep’s clothing.”

“Hey, we all have to start somewhere.”

“Do you think I’m more likable this way?”

Perhaps Chan was a little harsh with his words the one night you cooked for him. He thought he would be able to know you front and back after nearly a month of living together, but it seemed that he was farther away from that than he thought. After all this time, he thought you didn’t care one bit about how people perceived your feisty self. Maybe instead you cared too much and you had built a wall to prevent others like Chan from knowing.

“You were always likable,” he admitted honestly.

“Please stop lying,” you groaned.

“I mean it! Even when you were yelling at me or trying to kick me off the couch or stealing back the food I was trying to eat, I never hated you. It was so much fun messing with you because you were not afraid to cuss me out.”

“And that makes me likable how?”

Chan shrugged. “I have fun when I’m around you. Do you think I would have kept coming back to crash here if I hated you?”

“Yeah, to torture me.”

“Well, to clear things up, I don’t hate you. And I bet my bottom dollar that you don’t hate me, either.”

“Sike.”

“You’re telling me you still hate me after the fun we had tonight? Or the night you watched me play and cooked for me? Or even the one night after Lucas’s Halloween party when I passed out here even though your heater was broken and you wrapped me up in your fuzzy blanket?”

Another blush spread across your cheeks. “You remember that?”

“How could I forget the first night you showed me any compassion?”

“Fine, you’re right, I don’t hate you… You’re, in fact, quite tolerable.”

Who knew Chan’s eyes could light up so brightly at such a mediocre compliment, if you’d even call it one. “You like me ~”

“Stop.”

“You’re gonna fall in love with me ~”

“Chan -”

“I bet you already have ~”

“Ok, I’m going to bed.”

“No, you aren’t!”

You tried to run out of the kitchen and into your room to lock the door, but Chan got to you just as you reached the living room. He entrapped you with his big, strong arms and held you in a suffocating hug, drowning out his giggles with your screaming. Your resistance was strong, but you were smiling brighter than he’d ever seen before. Today was a long day for both of you and the moment Chan rested his chin on your shoulder was when you stopped struggling to break free. His tufts of chestnut hair and slow breathing tickled your cheeks.

“Oi, wake up,” you demanded, hitting his forearms.

That only made him hold you tighter. “No.”

You stopped fighting him and let the poor boy rest on your shoulder. “You don’t think this is weird?”

“No. We’re just two roommates fighting, right?” he teased, shaking you in his arms.

“Yeah, fighting.”

“Do you think it’s weird?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Please.”

His giggle rang in your ear and made goosebumps travel throughout your skin. Then Chan did what spontaneous Chan does and surprised you by kissing your cheek with a loud, moist, audible smooch.

“A-Ah, Chan!!” you gasped.

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

Before you could scold him further, he had already let go and went to his room. How long was he holding you? Because now you’re left stunned in the living room feeling the cold from the draft of your windows. Your cheek felt like it had been branded by his soft rose petal lips. It burned so much that you ended your night lying in bed staring at the ceiling cupping the tainted cheek.

“I hate him,” you mumbled to no one. Your words hold zero weight the moment you screamed into your pillow.

--

The first couple of days after the incident were a little weird, to put it simply. You circled back to your old habits of avoiding him and keeping conversations short and that didn’t slip past Chan for even a couple of hours. At first, he thought he might have ruined whatever weird friendship you had together, but the way you avoided him was not how it used to be.

You were embarrassed - dare he say even shy. Your avoidance held no malice and didn’t feel icy as it did last semester. Rather, you fled because you felt vulnerable. Your words were no longer full of insults, but instead were soft and sprinkled with stutters. It was like a scene from a drama set in high school where the cute shy nerd has a massive crush on the super sexy jock and won’t admit her feelings because she doesn’t think she has a chance. And knowing you, you would never admit to having feelings, so how was Chan supposed to get a confession out of you?

Cornering you was the only option he thought could work, but sadly that didn’t.

“Chan, c’mon, I have to use the bathroom,” you whined on the other side of the door.

He didn’t say a word when the door opened and steam spilled out into the halls. Yet again was he dressed only in his pajama bottoms and a towel around his neck, hair still damp and hanging loosely over his eyes. He took a step forward and you’re given no choice but to back up.

“What are you -”

You cut yourself off when your back hit the wall and Chan had you in the palm of his hands. Proximity was close to nothing as your toes touched and you could smell your body wash from his freshly-washed chest. Seriously, he still used your body wash!?

“C-Can I use the bathroom or what…” you stuttered.

He stared right in your eyes, then admired your cute nose, and finally down to your lips. He was teasing you! Like, actually teasing! He’s making you think that he wanted to kiss you! All of the possibilities of him making a move on you were just as equal as him not going through with it and your mind was racing like crazy and it was really starting to stress you out! Why, why was it stressing you out!?

Then he took a huge step back to let you through.

“All yours,” he whispered.

Well, that sort of worked… You didn’t say a verbal confession, but your face sure showed it. But no, that wasn’t enough. He needed to hear you say it. He had to do more, and he knew exactly what to do to push your limits.

For the whole week, whenever you did something for him whether it was answering a simple question or giving him a plate of whatever you cooked for dinner, Chan would kiss your cheek. That’s right, those soft rose petal lips would every-so slightly graze your cheeks almost everyday and even when you tried to scold him or fight back, you didn’t, as if you were stunned frozen every single time. This of course scared Chan - no emotion meant uncertainty on his end. Well, did you like it, or not!?

At some point, after a whole week of cheek kisses, you kind of… got used to it. Got used to the damn kisses, his flirtatious winks, the invasion of your space bubble, eating all of your food, using all of your bath products, taking unsolicited naps on your bed while you studied, all of it! You’ve gotten used to being around the man that is Bang Chan and you would almost admit that you liked being around him… almost.

And neither of you spoke up about it.

So… what were you two…? That’s right, you’re asking yourself the infamous ‘so what are we’ question - it’s really reached that point. No longer were you enemies or just plain roommates living separate lives, and of course you two weren’t dating, either. So did you consider him a friend? Sure, I mean you wouldn’t cook dinner for just anyone, right? But everything Chan did was not what normal friends do. At least in your experience - who knows if he’s doing this type of stuff to his other ‘friends’, like Miyeon.

Speaking of which, you hadn’t heard about her in a while, and you were almost convinced whatever relationship they had was over when she called off their date that one Tuesday - until Friday night.

The night was still young when you arrived home to your roommate mixing and playing with some beats over those impossibly loud speakers. It’s been a long week dealing with school work on top of figuring out your conflicting feelings of the boy in the next room and a quiet night without any games from Chan would be ideal, but life never worked out for you in that way, did it?

“Welcome home, darling ~!” he greeted playfully over the blasting bass before turning it down. “Cookin’ anything for dinner?”

The tiredness in your sigh didn’t go unnoticed. “Nah, I don’t feel like cooking tonight. I might do delivery if you’re up for that?”

The charming man came out of the room all dressed up like he was planning on going out and not coming back for the night. “That’s ok, I actually have plans tonight.”

“Oh? Where are you going?”

“Miyeon’s taking me out to one of her friend’s birthday bash, or whatever rich girls like to do, before we all go out tonight.”

Miyeon, the gorgeous cheerleader. Somehow, you’ve completely forgotten her existence. Of course they were still talking, idiot! How could you even think that you could compete with someone like her?

“Are you her date?” you asked hesitantly, not wanting to know the answer.

“If that’s what she’s callin’ it, I guess so.” Chan adjusted his shirt collar and unbuttoned the top. “Do I look good?”

“Do you not consider her your date?”

“Not really. All I have to do is sit and look pretty.”

“You don’t think she’s asking you because she likes you?”

“Please, she probably only asked me because Mingyu said no.”

“Chan, you don’t know that for sure.”

You began to feel his frustration when he threw his hands in the air in disbelief. The truth hurts, doesn’t it? “Why are you so hung up about this? Why does it matter to you?”

“It doesn’t!” you said a little too defensively. “I just don’t think you’re being fair.”

“How?”

“What if she really likes you? What if she’s asking you out to this thing because she wants you to know that? If she does like you, can you even say that you like her back?”

“Tch, no.”

“Then why even bother going and leading her on!?”

“Who said I’m leading her on? I’m just keeping her company!”

“What, so you’re going to have your arm around her waist, look into each others’ eyes and kiss and it’s going to mean nothing!?” At this point, you were screaming before you knew it. “Because that’s what you two normally do, right? Kiss each other like it means nothing?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it means, nothing! I -” Chan sighed heavily. “Ok, it does sound a little ridiculous when I say it out loud, but I promise it doesn’t mean anything! Wait a minute, why am I even explaining myself to you? Are you jealous, or something?”

No, you’re not jealous. You’re angry that Chan was that kind of guy who played with women like they were toys or little pawns on a cheap chess set. You’re angry that you were one of them.

“Have fun tonight,” you said flatly, retrieving to your room.

“_____, wait.” You didn’t wait and instead locked your bedroom door. “Fuck.”

Well, Chan’s End Game plan to get you to confess out of jealousy backfired badly. The party wasn’t even real! Dammit, now where was he supposed to go looking like this!?

A small lightbulb went off in his head. Off to the grocery store!

Maybe going to your room was a terrible idea because now you were left to reflect on how you poorly reacted. You had your strong points about how Chan didn’t know how Miyeon truly felt about him, but the flipside was that she could have felt the same - that she was just using Chan as some accessory and he was totally ok with that. Who were you to judge the weird mutualistic relationship that they had as head cheerleader and captain of the basketball team? The concept seemed corny and straight out of a teen movie, but perhaps those movies weren’t too far off base as you thought.

You’re also left to reflect on what he said before you stormed off into your room - were you jealous? At first, your anger could easily be mistaken for jealousy, but what was the truth? Of course you’re furious that Chan played these stupid fucking games with you! But you’d be less mad if you were the only one he cared to fool around with. 

You finally left the room around an hour after your sulking to bump into Chan’s rock-hard chest.

“Jesus Christ!” you screamed. “Chan, what the hell!” 

“Sorry, I was about to knock!”

“What are you doing right in front of my room, you werido!?”

The cheeky, dimply boy held up a paper bag. “Buzzfeed said people who like desserts are emotionally-driven and a little cold-hearted, but sweet as sugar once they get their fix.”

“Buzzfeed said that or YOU said that?”

“Both.”

You shook your head tiredly. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I lied. I don’t have some extravagant party to go to tonight. I haven’t texted Miyeon in weeks.”

“What? Then why did you…?”

“I had this dumb idea that you would confess your undying love for me if I somehow made you jealous. Clearly that didn’t work.”

“You’re right, you’re dumb ideas never work.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that! Fine, let me try Plan B. Let me know it it’s also dumb.”

“Gladly.”

“_____, I like you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Y-You what?”

“I like you. A lot. Since you threw that blanket over me that one night last semester and I knew you didn’t truly hate my guts after all. And then I got to live with you - to witness your multi-faceted personality, to talk with you, and to get you to laugh at my dumb jokes and cheek kisses. Tell me, _____, am I dumb for falling for you like this?”

“Well… I’d say yes, but that would admit I’m stupid, too.”

“Oh?” He smirked playfully, taking a step forward. “And that’s because…?”

You mumbled something incoherent. Then, Chan dropped the bag of desserts and scooped you in his arms again, nuzzling his nose in all the ticklish places on your neck.

“Chan, stop!” you giggled.

“Hm? What was that?” he asked. “I can’t hear you ~”

“I like you!”

Finally, he stopped, lifting his head to look at you but keeping you safe in his arms. “Do you? I mean, really, do you?”

“I like you. Surprisingly a lot. And I hate it.”

“Music to my ears, baby,” he grinned. He buried his face once more to flower you with cheek kisses. “Say it again.”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“Please ~” his kisses trickled down to your neck.

“It tickles!” you giggled some more. “If I say it, you gotta stop.”

“As much as that burdens me, fine.”

“I like you, Bang Chan.”

“See? Doesn’t that confession feel great? Like a huge weight lifted off your chest?” He pulled you in closer, to which you oblige and it only made his ego bigger and his heart beat faster. “I could get used to this.”

“Me too,” you sighed dreamily.

“Would you like dessert to commemorate this beautiful union, my love?”

“Sounds delightful.”

“Will you kiss me first?”

You pulled on his shirt collar to bring him down for a long, deep kiss that Chan thought he could only ever dream about. It left him dizzy and a little light headed and the way you break the kiss to let your sweet lips linger so closely was torturous and almost had him begging for more. Almost. Bang Chan did not beg.

“Whoa,” he sighed breathily.

“That’s what you get for the past couple of weeks.”

“Ah yeah, I suppose I deserve that…”

You left the stunned Chan to go ahead into the kitchen. “Let’s go, lover boy. I want some ice cream, please.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

--

EPILOGUE

“You two are what!?”

You and Chan looked at each other with fear written on both of your faces. Yeri was on the other end on speakerphone screaming curse words and ‘are you kidding me’s and ‘I fucking knew this would happen’s.

“Yeah, we’re uh, kind of dating now,” Chan repeated bravly.

“I cannot believe what I’m hearing! This is disgusting!! _____, what do you have to say for yourself, you hypocritical piece of poo!”

“I have nothing to say, I am just as ashamed as you are.”

Chan nudged you playfully. “Hey, we’re in this together, you know!”

“Ugh, I hate how I have to support this!” Yeri whined and cried and sobbed. “Just… Just don’t do it on my bed!”

“Don’t worry, apparently to Chan I’m a huge virgin because I know how to cook.”

“I was kidding!! And that’s gonna change now that I’m here -”

“Oh, gross! Stop! Please stop!” Yeri groaned. “I hate you both, I’m gonna kick your asses when I come back!”

“Love you too, Yer-bear,” you and Chan said in unison.

[chaoticminhos]

chapped lips

pairing: lee felix x reader

genre: angst. fluff?? bad boy!felix au

warnings: felix gets into fights like a dummy

a/n: requested by anon💞 i’m not super proud of this but i spent like a week trying to get it to a point i’m proud of and i couldn’t, i’m sorry if it isn’t the best, i hope you enjoy it anyway😊 also the title is gross i know i just can’t think of anything else to title it dhdjsksj im sOrRy

~~~~~

lee felix. lee fucking felix, a.k.a the bane of your fucking existence. who did he think he was, sauntering into your school the first day of junior year, wearing a leather jacket and a loose white shirt acting like he owned the place, despite it being his first day at his new school?

the answer is the fucking king, apparently.

disregarding that no one had ever seen him in school, let alone in town before, every girl was throwing themselves at him by the time the first bell even rang. they were babbling about how mysterious and hot he was, practically drooling. you, on the other hand, opted for keeping your saliva in your mouth and dignity in tact, rolling your eyes and telling yourself that he was just another flirt, an unfairly hot and charming fuckboy. as the year progressed, you proved yourself correct.

~

about a month after classes began, felix took an interest in you. you had been practically invisible to him before, making a point to stay away from him and his already bad reputation, but you could only keep it up for so long.

you were in your 3rd hour history class, one of the (unfortunately) many classes you shared with felix when he first noticed you. generally, you were pretty well behaved, but this teacher always got on your nerves.

your friend raised her hand, “Mr. Kim, may i use the restroom?”

“you had a chance to go before class started, sit down.”

“sir, it’s an emergency-“

“i said no.”

he obviously had no regard for basic female hygiene, and it was pissing you off. you tried to speak under your breath, but your seat was right in front of his desk.

“oh my god, you’re acting like you want her to bleed all over your seats.”

when the words left your mouth, you thought nothing of it. that was, until the students in the seats surrounding you, which included felix, and the teachers eyes snapped towards you.

“excuse me, ms. y/n?” your teacher asked you in a warning tone.

you looked up at him with wide eyes upon realizing he had heard you, and you felt your stomach drop. you rarely got in trouble. you spoke quickly.

“i-i’m sorry sir.”

“i’ll let it go, since you’re always so well behaved, but i don’t want to hear another comment like that coming from your mouth, got it?”

you nodded hastily. you hated being in trouble, which is why you always listened to what teachers said and followed rules.

when the bell rang, you quickly packed your things and made your way to the door, eager to get out of the classroom and away from your least favorite teacher, but right when you were out the door, you were stopped by your least favorite student. lee felix.

his hand darted out to your wrist, nearly making you drop your books.

“didn’t know you could be so feisty, darling.”

your eyes snapped to his, knowing who was speaking before even seeing him, his voice was unmistakable. you tried to pull your wrist from his grip, but he didn’t budge.

“get your hands off me, felix.”

his eyebrows raised and a small smirk appeared on his face, “oh, so you know who i am?”

“kinda hard not to when teachers are yelling at you every 5 minutes and your name is called over the loud speaker every other day for getting into a fight.”

“woah, good girl, where was this attitude when Kim was scolding you?”

your felt your stomach flip at the name he chose. you knew he meant it to be teasing, but it made your face flush red, and felix noticed. using his grip on your wrist, he pulled you closer to him, so your faces were only inches apart.

“oh, you got a thing for being praised?”

he chuckled as your face turned even more red, an amused smirk on his lips the entire time. satisfied with flustering you, he released your wrist from his hand and stepped away, immediately being greeted by a hoard of girls as well as a few of his 8 friends, the other resident bad boys of your school.

“i’ll see you around, princess.”

you felt butterflies in your tummy again at his choice of words, and you cursed yourself for being flustered.

there way no way you had a crush on lee felix.

~

okay, maybe you had a little crush on lee felix.

throughout the next few months, interactions like this continued to occur, him bothering you and you pretending you didn’t love the way he touched you or the pet names he called you.

don’t get it wrong, you still thought he was a stuck up asshole, but you couldn’t deny that he was charming, and he wasn’t bad to look at either. in fact, he was very, very nice to look at.

you felt a tap on your shoulder in the middle of class, the same class that he had first noticed you in. you shrugged his hand off of you, only for it to return a few seconds later. when you went to shove his hand off of you again, he whined.

“y/n~”

you continued to ignore him.

“princess?”

again, no response.

“baby, why are you ignoring me?”

you took a deep breath, turning towards him, “felix, i’m trying to learn, what do you want?”

he smiled upon getting your attention, folding his hands in his lap. you couldn’t help but notice his busted knuckles, hadn’t they just healed from his last fight?

“you.”

you cursed your cheeks for turning red and you turned back towards the board.

“stop it.”

“what?” the smile was evident in his voice, you didn’t even have to look at him to know he had a stupid grin on his face, “we both know you like it when i talk to you like this.”

your head snapped back towards him, “says who, lee felix? if it were up to me, you’d shut your mouth and keep it closed.”

your snappy remarks didn’t faze him anymore, he had gotten used to it after months of pestering you. he snapped right back.

“why don’t you make me shut up, then?”

you clenched your jaw, turning towards the board again, but you tightly crossed your legs, and it did not go unnoticed.

~

the last bell had rang and you were packing your bag and waiting for the crowd to die down before you left. as you finished and made your way out the front door, you bumped into somebody, causing you to be shoved into the door frame and drop the books that you were carrying, the ones you couldn’t fit in your bag. you winced, hand moving to massage where your shoulder had collided with the metal door frame.

“oh my gosh, i’m so sorry.”

you looked up to the source of the voice with a small smile.

“it’s no problem, seonghwa, really.”

seonghwa was on student council with you, so you knew each other well enough to make encounters like this not awkward, but you didn’t really know him.

he knelt down to help pick up your books at the same time you did, causing your heads to collide.

you both stumbled back, holding your heads. he gave you an apologetic look and began to say sorry yet again, but you burst into laughter.

“jeez seonghwa, maybe you should have caution tape surrounding you.”

he laughed along with you, moving to pick up your books before offering a hand to help you up.

you gave him a small ‘thanks’ before heading to leave, but he stopped you.

“hey, y/n, actually, are you doing anything? maybe i could take you for coffee or something.” he paused. “you know, to say sorry.”

you smiled at him, “it’s really alright, you don’t have to-“

he chuckled, “i want to, come on. let’s go.”

he led you to his car, opening the trunk and helping you put your things in it. as he went to open the passenger side door for you, a deep voice interrupted the action.

“hey princess!”

you rolled your eyes, turning towards the source of the noise, which happened to be felix and about half of the crowd of friends he usually hung around.

“what, felix?” you sighed.

“aw, come on, baby! aren’t you excited to see me?”

he and his crew walked up to you and seonghwa, so you were no longer shouting across the parking lot.

felix reached out to ruffle your hair before looking seonghwa up and down and asking you, “who’s this?”

“none of your business, felix.”

“someone’s grumpy today, why-“ felix began, only to be interrupted by seonghwa. he stuck his hand out to felix.

“i’m park seonghwa, nice to meet you.”

felix took his hand with the raise of an eyebrow, not bothering to introduce himself in reply, only going back to focus on you.

“he giving you a ride home?”

before you could reply, seonghwa spoke up.

“we actually have a date, so if you don’t mind, we’re gonna get going.”

felix’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. a date? he quickly composed himself.

“in that case,” he leaned in close to you, “have fun on your date, good girl.”

you pushed him away from you, hurrying into seonghwa’s car and pulling the door shut. you looked out the window just in time to see felix say something to seonghwa with a glare before his friends ushered him away with one last glance at you, but you couldn’t hear what he said from inside the car.

“i’m sorry for him.” you apologized to seonghwa on your way to the café.

“no need, it’s not your fault. and hey, i’m sorry for saying it was a date, i thought it would make him back off. just seemed to make him more adamant, though.” he said with a chuckle.

you sighed, “it’s fine. and yeah, he’s pretty persistent.”

the rest of the ride to the cafe was quiet.

you ordered your drink and went to pull out your wallet, but seonghwa placed a hand over yours, handing the cashier his wallet.

“i’ve got both.”

you pouted, “you didn’t have to pay.”

he laughed at your pout, “i asked you to come, of course i have to pay.”

you two chatted while you drank your coffee, and you had a good time. you were surprised you two hadn’t hung out before, your personalities really clicked.

he dropped you off at your house when you finished, going as far as to comment on how close your house was to the school, and offering to give you rides to and from for the rest of the year.

“oh no, i really enjoy walking, actually, but thank you!”

he nodded, “just know you’ve always got a ride if it’s raining or anything.”

~

the next day at school, felix didn’t come to his morning classes, not that you were checking or anything. by lunch period, everyone knew that the boy wasn’t there. it wasn’t uncommon for felix to skip classes, but he didn’t usually skip more than a few a day, which is why it was odd that he had missed the entire morning. adding onto that, the 8 other boys he hung around were all at school, which meant no one was skipping with him.

lunch period was louder than usual, everyone trying to figure out where felix was. god forbid his fan girls go a full day without seeing him, right?

you left lunch early, the extra noise in the room was giving you a headache, and headed to your 5th hour class. despite felix missing the morning classes you had with him, you walked to your class (which he was also in) hoping he would show up. to your surprise, he was already there.

more to your surprise, he didn’t greet you when you entered the room. it would have been the perfect opportunity to mess with you; the teacher wasn’t in the room yet, but still he chose to keep silent.

it oddly bugged you that he didn’t say hi to you, even if he would have said it in some annoying way. he barely even looked at you. deciding he wasn’t going to talk, you spoke first.

it surprised you, you had never initiated a conversation with the boy, partly because he was annoying and partly because your heart sped up whenever you two interacted. you felt the need to speak up this time though.

the first thing you noticed was that his knuckles were busted more than usual, and for once, it looked like he might have lost a fight. he had a big purple bruise on one side of his face and a busted lip. while looking at the cut on his lip, obviously inspecting the wound and not just looking at his lips because they were pretty, you noticed that they were really chapped. you hoped he was drinking enough water.

you sat in one of the seats beside him in the very back row.

“felix?” you began softly.

no reply.

you sighed and began to dig through your bag. you knew you had a chapstick somewhere in there. when you found it, you put your hand on his shoulder. he still hadn’t even looked at you again, or at least, he hadn’t looked at you when you were also looking at him.

“felix, your lips are chapped, take this.”

you held the chapstick in front of his face, right above his hands, which were crossed on top of his desk.

without turning his head, his eyes snapped to meet yours quickly before reaching to take the chapstick and leaning back in his chair. he seemed more relaxed than when you had first walked into the room.

instead of applying the chapstick, he fiddled with it in his hands, eyes focused on it with a blank look on his face.

you frowned.

“felix, what happened?”

finally, you got a reply. just not the sort of reply you wanted.

“like you care.”

you were taken aback. he never spoke to you like this.

“i do care! i wouldn’t be sitting here trying to help you if i didn’t care.”

he scoffed.

“felix, i’m serious!” you didn’t know why him denying that you cared about him upset you so much, but you felt your eyes started to well up. “you were gone all morning and when you finally come back you’re all busted up, and you’re not even letting me try to help you!”

“i wasn’t gone this morning, y/n.”

“what?”

“i was here, in the office. didn’t you notice someone else missing, too?”

you furrowed your eyebrows.

he stared at you for a while before a small smile appeared on his face.

“you didn’t even notice seonghwa wasn’t here, did you?”

you cocked your head to the side, shaking your head. now that he mentioned it, you hadn’t seen seonghwa all day either.

“no, i guess not.”

“yeah, well he was in the office with me.”

“why?”

“you’re dense, you know that?”

for some reason, your mood was lifted now that he was smiling and teasing you again.

“we got into a fight, y/n.”

“you and seonghwa? but why, you don’t even know each other?”

“we both know you.”

and with that, the bell rang and the teacher walked into the classroom, followed by students a few minutes later.

felix didn’t even once try to get your attention for the rest of that period

school ended, and you were still thinking of felix. any time you passed him in the hallway or saw him in class, he didn’t seem like himself. beyond that, his words kept replaying in your head, “like you care,” “we both know you.”

it bothered you that he didn’t think you cared about him, and it bothered you that he and seonghwa had gotten into a fight, by the sound of it, because of you.

you hadn’t had a chance to ask seonghwa about it, since you didn’t have any afternoon classes with him.

you exited your last classroom and headed towards your locker. before you could reach it, from across the hallway, you saw felix leaned up against it. you smiled, glad he wasn’t ignoring you, but your smile dropped when seonghwa joined him with an angry look on his face.

the hallways were still crowded, so you couldn’t hear what was being said, but it looked like there was about to be another fight. not wanting any more drama, you rushed to your locker and stepped between the two.

as you rushed up, you heard part of the conversation before they stopped talking when you showed up.

“seriously, lee. can’t you see you’re not good for her?”

“i’m trying to be!”

“that’s not good enough!”

you carefully placed your bag and books down on the floor, stepping out from in between them. you finally got a good look as seonghwa, and oh boy, had you been wrong. felix definitely won this fight, too. he had a black eye one one side and a bruised cheek on the other, along with a bandage across his nose.

“what’s going on?”

seonghwa spoke first, “y/n, please tell felix-“

you interrupted him in a panicked voice, eyes on felix.

“oh my god, felix, your lip is bleeding again, i told you to use my chapstick!” you reached your hand up to his lip, running your finger over the rough skin. he brought his hand up and lightly grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand from his face, his eyes moving from yours to seonghwa’s.

seonghwa was looking at you with frustration, “jesus christ, y/n, really? you’re taking care of him?”

you gave him a confused look, “why shouldn’t i be? he’s bleeding and-“

“no,” felix released your wrist and took a step back, “he’s right, y/n.”

seonghwa raised his eyebrows at you, as if to say, “see? even he admits he’s bad for you!” but you turned back to felix, about to speak when seonghwa picked up your things and grabbed your arm to lead you away.

you pulled against his grip, “seonghwa, stop it.”

he had grabbed the same arm that you had banged into the door frame the night before, and him pulling on your arm made the bruise hurt even worst than it already did.

“y/n.” he spoke sternly, “let’s go.”

you pulled against him again, “seonghwa, please stop, you’re hurting me.”

his grip only tightened, “i said let’s go.”

your free hand went up to grab your hurt shoulder, “seonghwa, my arm still hurts from yesterday-“

with one last rough pull from seonghwa, you stumbled away from felix with a yelp. that’s when felix decided it was too much, and his hand found its way around seonghwa’s wrist, the one that was holding onto you.

“she said you’re hurting her, stop.”

seonghwa released your arm and immediately swung at felix with that same hand, knocking him straight in the jaw. felix stumbled backwards, but he quickly regained composure, swinging back and hitting seonghwa in the nose, which from the bandage he had on, you assumed to be broken. his nose started streaming with blood, and before anyone could throw another hit, the principle came rushing over, yelling at both boys and you to follow him to his office.

seonghwa, who was still holding your bag, no longer your books, as he had dropped them when he first went to hit felix, swung your bag off of his shoulder and dropped it roughly on the ground with a glare towards you.

you went to pick up your bag and collect your books, but felix got to it before you, swinging both your bag and his over his shoulders. you tried to argue with him, say that he was hurt and you could carry your own bag, but he wouldn’t listen.

the principle made all three of you sit in front of his desk, you in between the two boys.

“two fights in one day? really, boys? you know bet-“

“sir, i don’t know about the first fight, but felix did not start this fight, he was only defending me.”

“ms. y/n, do not interrupt me again or-“

without realizing it, your hand found it’s way to felix’s.

“no, sir, really, it’s not fair for felix to get into trouble!” you started to tear up, “check the cameras or ask anyone around us, really! he didn’t start it!”

seonghwa scoffed beside you.

“you’re still defending him?”

“she’s defending me because i’m not the one who put hands on her, park!” felix answered for you.

“i wouldn’t have had to if-“

“boys!” your principles voice echoed through his office.

“i’ll review the footage and we’ll talk again tomorrow. as of now, the two of you need to get cleaned up. y/n, you’ve had a long afternoon, go get some rest.”

seonghwa left immediately, storming out the door without saying goodbye to anyone. you, however, decided to stay back and help felix clean up.

he sat on the counter in one of the school bathrooms with you in between his legs, focused on cleaning him up. he said he could clean his wounds himself, but you insisted. as you were wiping the blood of your cheek, you softly spoke.

“felix, why did you two fight in the first place?”

he took a deep breath, shifting his eyes to lock with yours.

“i saw him this morning and i asked how serious you two were, with you going on a date and all. when he said not very, i asked him to stay away from you as anything more than friends. i told him you already had someone going after you and... he hit me. said i wasn’t good enough for you, said you deserve more than me.”

your face flushed at felix’s words, was he confessing to you?

“he told me to stay away from you all together, even as friends. at first i thought he was right, that you’re too good for me, but if i need to be better to be good enough for you, i will.”

“what do you mean, felix?”

“i like you, y/n. a lot. and i know i have a really shitty way of showing it, but i promise i’ll try my best to be what you deserve, if you’ll give me a chance.”

“felix, you saved me from him when he was hurting me, that’s not a shitty way of showing you care.”

a small smiled played at his lips, “who knew the good girl could swear?”

you hit his shoulder, “shut up or i’ll reject you.”

he laughed, a big smile on his face, but it quickly fell. he reached a hand up and gently pulled your jacket off of your shoulder, turning you slightly to see the bruise.

“y/n?” he began, “did he do this to you?”

your eyebrows furrowed, “yeah, he bumped into me and i fell.”

“but it wasn’t on purpose?”

“no.”

felix let out a breath you hadn’t realized he had been holding in, and he suddenly pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you.

“i won’t let anyone hurt you anymore.”

~

the next day, you walked into first hour to see felix sitting in his usual spot, and for the first time, you smiled and made your way over to him. he greeted you with a big smile.

halfway through class, your names along with seonghwa’s were announced over the loud speaker to come to the office. felix stood first, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the room. neither of you missed the whispers that began when he took your hand.

the principle called the three of you into his office once again.

“as promised, i have your consequences ready. firstly, i rewatched the camera footage of both fights, and in both, seonghwa, you threw the first hit. because of this, i have to give you 2 weeks of suspension, beginning right after this meeting. for you, felix, despite your record, it’s clear you didn’t intend for either of these fights to happen, and it’s clear that the second one was in defense of someone else. however, you did hit back. detention every day after school for a week. and you, ms. y/n, this is your first incident and you weren’t involved with the violence, so i’ll let you off with a warning. you two,” he gestured to you and felix, “back to class. and you,” he pointed at seonghwa, “your parents will be here to pick you up soon.”

you and felix stood and headed back to class, but about halfway there, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into a corner of the hallway where he knew there were no cameras.

you giggled, “what are you doing.”

one arm on your waist, he pulled the same chapstick you’d given to him earlier out of his pocket and applied it, a big smile on his face.

“i cant have chapped lips for out first kiss, now can i, good girl?”

[angloie]

Dark Skies

"Its cold. Just take my jacket, will you?"

in which two people definitely hate each other. even though they feel something between them- something other than plain dislike- Percy refuses to admit it. Nuh uh.

Add in a rainy day, a umbrella-less Annabeth, and a grumbling Percy to the mix.

warnings: swearing, thunder/rain storm.

The weather seemed to reflect Annabeth's mood.

As she sniffed under the tree, her tears became more rapid sliding down her flushed cheeks. Cold, leaving her shivering in the slightest.

Stupid classmates, being total jerks. When she had one of the older students ask her out- and when she rejected him, lightly- he had the audacity to insult her when he didn't get what he wanted.

"I-It was just a dare, anyways!" The boy had stammered before. "Not like anyone would actually want to date you, ugly."

Wow. What a way to handle a rejection. Even if it were a dare, was the insult really necessary?

If Annabeth knew this was awaiting her at the end of the day, then maybe she wouldn't have gone to school. Even after a rough day like that.

Rain. More rain, and even more. The local forecast didn't say anything about the horrible weather, (the forecast was always messed up, somehow, that was probably her mistake,) so why was she here; finding refuge under a branchy tree? It was just so peachy that she didn't bring her umbrella.

It was cold. Too cold for Annabeth's liking.

She wrings her hair in her hands, squeezing out every droplet she can manage. They run down her arms, hands, fingers, only adding to her shivering. Yup- her hair would be one frizzy mess later. And a pain to comb.

Great.

Her bag was soaked, along with her notebook. Oh, and her sweater was damp at the edges, sleeves a dark color from the once light grey. If Annabeth wasn't sick now, she definitely would be later.

"Oh? What're you doing here?"

Annabeth sighed and leaned on the somewhat dry trunk. Her phone wasn't doing much in the situation. Well; it was dead. So that wasn't very fun.

Was she being too sensitive? The insult hurt, no matter if it a as said in spite. I mean, if Annabeth wanted to get insulted in her appearance, she would've just gone back ho-

"What do you want, Percy?" Wiping her tears on her sleeve, Annabeth turns around to face the one and only. Even through the grayish blur she could manage his figure.

As if things couldn't get any worse.

Why him?

Percy Jackson.

"I couldn't help but notice you," Her smirks tauntingly. "Looking all down in the dumps, crying like that. What, not a fan of rain?"

Her number enemy number one. Both academic and athletic rival. The bane of her very existence. Her cocky and sarcastic rival ever since-

CRACKA-BOOM!

"I seriously despise you." Annabeth grumbles. "For your information, im dealing with something right now!"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" If she knew any better, Annabeth would've thought there was a little concern in his words. But concern? And Percy? Not two words meant to be paired together.

"J-just," She wipes her eyes clear now. By the way hes looking at her, mascara must be running down her eyes by now, and her skin must be red and puffy. How humiliating.

"Go away. Please. " Her voice cracks.

And how pathetic.

"No, I don't think I will."

"Just fuck off, then!"

"Oh shit."

There was thunder now?

"Yeah?"

"Shit indeed." Percy eyes Annabeth.

"You don't have an umbrella." He says, as if noticing only recently.

"And theres one heck of a storm we're in."

"Uh huh."

"If only you had someone to walk you home," He taunts, waving his dark blue umbrella in the blondes face. "How sad."

Annabeth knows that trees are a target of lighting strikes. She also knows that standing under one during a storm is, well, dangerous. So if Percy doesn't get to the point fast, she might have to do a full on sprint to her house.

"I get it, geez. Don't rub it in."

He stays silent for a second as he watches the droplets land on his shoes. They slide off painfully slow.

"Oh, fine. C'mere." Percy ushers her over, over to under his-

Under his umbrella?

"What?" Annabeth mouth slightly parts in surprise.

"Do you have a death wish or something?" He rolls his eyes. "I might hate you, but im not an asshole. Let me walk you home."

"Why should I?" She crosses her arms, frowning and turning away because head.

Another strike of lightning.

"You know what?” She pauses, staring at the charred peice of ground a few meters away. “Fine."

Its quiet as they walk.

Well, as quiet as you can get when there's a while thunderstorm going on. Percy nearly trips over Annabeth's feet as they speed walk through it all. Annabeth almost slips when they go downhill.

And, God, as she looked at a puddle, her appearance wasn't something to be proud of. All Annabeth is willing to disclose is a few words consisting of Mascara, a mess of hair, and red eyes.

Why Percy offered her to walk home? She didn't know. Maybe to torment her further. Or maybe to tease her.

"Im sorry." He says randomly.

Annabeth side eyes him. "For what?"

"I saw that douche back there," Percy sighs and shakes his head, "He's just insecure about himself. Don't let him get to you." After a beat of silence, he speaks up again. "Im sorry for not saying something. I should have. So I'm sorry."

"A-ah. Thanks, I guess." The corner of her lips twitch upwards.

"I dont.." He takes a sharp inhale. "I-I don't think you're ugly."

Is that...

pink on his face?

Is the Percy Jackson blushing?

Holy crap- he is. He totally is.

"Where's this all coming from?" Annabeth guffaws, fully grinning now. "You? Not being a total ass? What is it, is today doomsday or someth-"

"Shut up! I just don't want to see you crying again!" Percy falters as he hold the umbrella up.

"Aww, you're worried about me!"

"...You're impossible, you know that?"

"Bleh. Whatever."

Annabeth misses way Percy looks at her as she turns away. Tender, as she snickers to herself, its something straight out of a cheesy romance rom-com.

But she'll get to see it another day, anyways. For now Percy can settle with a soft smile.

[anywhozits]

A Christmas Announcement

Rating: T Words: 5172

Verse: Canonverse Pairing: Kristanna

Summary: Kristoff and Anna are excited to finally share the news of their heir-on-the-way with the Kingdom of Arendelle.

Notes: I wrote this last year and forgot to post it, but this is somewhat related to the Christmas fic I’m writing for this year so wanted to get this out before that one! (at least it’s in the same verse and has similar themes, hah) Anyway hope you enjoy and happy holidays!! Thanks for reading :)

READ ON AO3 HERE

The day was Christmas Eve, 1843. A couple years ago, the whole kingdom of Arendelle began celebrating together at the castle’s now officially annual Christmas ball. Something that Anna had begged Elsa to start since the great freeze ended and the doors to the castle became permanently open. It had taken awhile, but finally Elsa caved to her sister’s wishes, likely only partially due to years of internalized guilt for pushing her away, and the ball quickly became one of Anna’s most anticipated nights of the year. Now with Anna as Queen, the tradition continued.

The entire ballroom was filled with glittering decorations, tinsel adorning the sturdy wood beams. Buffet tables sat lining almost the entire left side of the room, filled bountifully with food to feed the whole town and then some. Lefse, lutefisk (the bane of child and teen Anna’s existence), farikal, pickled herring, kjottkaker, salmon, whale steak, sheep, all the traditional favorites. And that, of course, didn’t even including the two tables of desserts and pastries or the sprawling drink selection. A massive 12-foot Christmas tree stood proudly in the right corner of the space, decorated with great care by Anna and Kristoff themselves. Year after year, Anna always insisted she didn’t need any help from the castle attendants, only a few ladders and a few hours of time alone. She always pulled through. The tree—her pride and joy. This Christmas, Anna had also taken the time to pick out hundreds of presents for the Arendellian children and children-at-heart. Kristoff even did some woodworking for the occasion. Highlights included hand carved rocking horses, rolling reindeer on a string, and building blocks. They couldn’t wait for those presents to be torn open by frantic hands, truly cherishing the visual of children playing for hours on the sweeping ballroom floor, both King and Queen watching misty eyed as they imagined their own child playing along next year. A new tradition.

They had hired both a 5-piece band and a choir to make sure that the ball was not lacking in festive music and thus not lacking in dancing. The choir had kicked off the party singing Christmas songs in perfect harmony, the music floating through the castle, making the previously cold stone walls feel more comforting and protective. Guests had started arriving, smiles plastered on each of their faces as they ran through the open castle gates, eyes wide in childlike awe when they entered the ballroom to see the most elaborate Christmas ball yet.

But two people were thus far missing from the party.

Kristoff knocked softly on his and Anna’s chamber door before letting himself in. He saw Anna, dressed to the nines in a green velvet gown topped with white ruffles that hugged her shoulders. Her upper chest was left bare save for a three-layered pearl necklace, an early Christmas gift from Mattias. The sleeves gaped open, lined by white fur that Kristoff knew felt as soft as it looked. Her hair laid atop her head in an intricately braided bun, her gold and emerald crown placed perfectly in the middle, always bringing out the brilliant green that usually hid within her typically cerulean eyes. Kristoff could only think one word. Radiant. Anna was radiant. Sincerely, Anna sparkled. She always sparkled. But something about walking in on her like this, dressed for the ball, so majestic in every single way… made Kristoff feel as if he might cry for the love that grew and blossomed within his heart. A love so permanent… a love so unyielding that he felt it with both a fiery passion and a patient comfort. He took in a breath. Regarding her magnificence for a second time. Her gold shoes sparkled in the candlelight, heels subtle enough to allow her to dance for hours but tall enough to allow her to kiss him without getting on her tip toes. His eyes floated up to her dress yet again. Even though the gown cinched at her waist, Kristoff swore he could make out a little bit of the swell that was their growing child. He took in another breath. She looked ravishing. How could he be so lucky to call her his wife?

But Anna paid no mind to Kristoff, not then. She was looking in the mirror. Frowning. Frustrated.

But still so beautiful.

“Anna, honey, are you ready to go downstairs? The doors are open, and people are flooding in… I think even Elsa and Honeymaren are already here.” Elsa was finishing up the ice sculptures. Her only task this year, something that made her beyond thankful.

“I’m almost ready! I’m just… I don’t know. I don’t feel right. But I can’t put my finger on why.” Anna twirled around in front of the mirror. “The only thing keeping me chugging along is the promise of lots of food. I’m starving.”

“Yes—that was the journal entry for this week. Ravenously hungry. Insatiable I think was the word I used.” For Anna, eighteen-ish weeks pregnant meant the constant desire to stuff her face with literally everything she laid her eyes on. It was like she had this itch that could never be scratched. A deep hole in her stomach that could not ever be fully filled. But the most unfortunate part was that she somehow had recently begun to crave lutefisk. Lutefisk. The food she would have to plug her nose to eat as a kid. Clearly pregnancy made her leave logic at the door. Kristoff sauntered up to her and brought her in close, wrapping his strong arms around her frame, resting them gently on her mid-section, hooking his chin over her right shoulder and kissing her softly on first her shoulder and then her neck and then her cheek before settling back into the crook of her neck. He smiled. This was pure bliss.

Anna entangled her fingers with his own, both resting on her belly. She sighed. “I swear I could eat literally all of Sven right now and only feel a little bit guilty.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Kristoff laughed into her shoulder.

“I’m starving!” Anna pouted, but then Kristoff kissed her neck again softly and she shivered. Too distracting.

“Well, I know for a fact there’s a lot of food in the ballroom if you want to get a move on…”

“I want to, I really do… but. Still. I’m … you know what? I think I know what it is,” Anna said, pulling away from Kristoff suddenly. “You know how a few weeks ago I had to switch to the maternity corset? Because I really uh—popped out that one morning and couldn’t fit into my old one anymore even with the laces practically undone?” One midwife had even said that Anna looked much bigger than what women usually did at this point in pregnancy. Something that she said could mean there was more than one baby on the way…Anna and Kristoff were far too thrilled with that possibility but had mutually decided they didn’t want to get their hopes up if it didn’t come to fruition. Their baby coming into the world already with a friend… already decidedly not alone. It felt almost serendipitous to Anna, but she still refused to think of it more than fleetingly. So for now—one baby. Singular baby.

“I remember,” he said.

“Well, I hate this thing. It’s so … constricting and it hurts and I can hardly breathe let alone gorge myself with disgusting and foul and gross but somehow still super satisfying lutefisk. Like do you really think this is good for the baby?”

Kristoff shook his head. “Probably not—”

But Anna was on a roll. She bulldozed through the answer he gave to her likely rhetorical question. “I know it’s not breathing or anything right? But … it kind of feels like I’m squishing the baby or something and knowing it’s yours and everything it’ll probably be massive so needs lots of room to… get that way. Oh wait no I can’t think about that. Oh God. Massive. Get that image out of my head please. Too big to come out of me and the pain and owwwww.”

Kristoff stepped closer to Anna and hugged her close, stroking comforting circles on her back. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said. She whimpered. “For the record, I don’t think I was too big as a baby. Although, you know… I don’t remember.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Very helpful.”

“I do have some chocolate to tide you over, though. That’s helpful, right?”

Her eyes lit up instantly, nodding her head in ferocious fervor. “Yes, yes, yes. Super, super helpful. Very helpful. The most helpful of all helpful!” Kristoff reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out maybe six truffles. Anna ate them in a flash. “God, these are so good.” Then she frowned again. “But I can already feel my corset getting tighter! And, you know what? What’s it all for, hmm? So I can better hide I’m pregnant? Yeah that’s right I said the word. So, what? You know, it’s really grating to me that something that really deserves to celebrated is instead something that needs to be … hidden away. Like the expectation for a queen is to be prim and proper and ladylike and pure or—whatever…while also producing heirs upon heirs. So, what happens when the very thought of being ‘with child’ comes with this implication that you’re not pure? Even though obviously I mean it’s way more concerning if you’re married and still pure, right? And I know I’m saying this about royalty and everything but that’s just my situation. Generally it’s definitely not just for queens. This is any woman. The expectation of any woman.  Nobody cares if men are pure. So they’re just producing heirs or kids or namesakes? … left and right and it’s all fine and dandy. It’s just ... really frustrating. And this stupid corset is like the physical proof of this horrible thing and it’s really making me…so—angry.” Anna let out a long breath. It felt good to get all that out. It truly had been building upon itself in this storm of emotions for the last couple weeks. Constantly growing until this moment.

“You know you’re the Queen, right?”

“Uh—yeah. Pretty sure I just talked a lot about that in my little speech.”

“Yes, right. Yes. But I mean… you’re the Queen.”

“Yes, I know. What’s your point?”

“Well, you’ve got the power, baby,” Kristoff said. “Show them how it’s done. You can … make a decree or—or something. Or you can just lead by example. I’ll support you, Anna. You know I’ll support you. And I agree with you, too. The whole thing’s pretty ridiculous. And definitely not healthy for our massive baby.”

Anna crossed her arms over her chest. “Not funny.”

“Take it off, baby. Off with the maternity corset.”

“I want to … but then people will be able to tell, right?”

“You really think they don’t know? Let me ask you this. Truly—how many people do you think are actually in the dark?”

“Uh—I don’t know. Maybe … four?”

“Exactly! Don’t feel like you need to still hide it. The whole castle has known for a long time. You were wearing the maternity corsets! Someone had to make that for you and you know your maids knew right away. Word is out, Anna. We just can’t be open open about it yet. Soon … but you don’t need to hide it. You shouldn’t hide it.”

She contemplated his words for a minute or so before planting a chaste kiss on his lips. “Thanks, husband. You’re the best listener.” He grabbed her hand and gave her a quick twirl, already preparing for the dancing he knew would take up most of his night.

“Always, my sweet love.”

“Now help me get this thing off. Right now. Please.” Anna turned so her back was to him. His large hands wrapped around the velvet buttons of her dress, undoing them at an unparalleled pace. Soon, the dress dropped to the floor and Anna stepped out of it, only standing in her off-white corset and bloomers. The maternity corset had a slightly different shape, dipping lower to cover her entire stomach, and had two extra sets of laces, one on each side that supposedly allowed for more breathing room and expansion along with a growing belly, but Anna disagreed. It felt just as constricting as her usual corset. She jumped in front of Kristoff again. “Off, off, off!”

He obeyed again, large hands undoing the laces but moving closer as he did this, planting periodic kisses on her shoulders. His mind instantly shot back to the first time he unlaced her corset. Years ago.

The beginning of their … exploration was too hurried. They so rarely got time alone and took it whenever they could … wherever they could … as fast as they could. There was never time to take off any clothes. Dress scrunched up her waist, drawers and breeches pushed down to their ankles was the name of their game. But eventually they got bolder. They snuck around in the middle of the night… and in those stolen moments in the moonlight, they had more time. Kristoff remembered ripping off her dress, throwing it into the corner of her room. Turning his attention to her undergarments, working his hands around the laces, trying to figure out how to make this as swift as possible. He smirked. “Is this appropriate?”

“Of course not,” Anna giggled. Kristoff planted kisses on her bare shoulders and then her collarbones. “But when have I ever been concerned with what’s appropriate?”

Kristoff smiled again at the memory. When he finally shot back to reality, he saw that he was almost done with the laces. He pulled the last few and threw the corset far away from them. It landed with an air of dramatics on her dressing partition.

Anna sighed in relief. “God, you’re so much faster at this than my maids.”

“Years of practice paired with years of … urgency.” Kristoff said, smirking.

It had taken him much longer than he felt comfortable admitting to take that corset off that first night, but since then he’d figured out a foolproof strategy.

She turned around to give him a deep kiss. “I’m free. Thank you.”

Kristoff inhaled sharply. She was even more magnificent like this, ballgown tossed to the side.  He brought a hand up to cup her chin and his other drifted down to her stomach. He gave it a rub and she kissed him in response, giggling slightly. “You’re radiant, baby. So beautiful.”

“You really think so?”

“You take my breath away,” Kristoff said, meaning it truly and genuinely from the bottom of his heart. Anna beamed at him, feeling both unparalleled awe and unparalleled respect boiling deep within her soul. She regarded him now. The way the left side of his smile cocked up more than his right, sending him into an eternal mischievous smirk. The way his brown eyes always somehow teemed with an unusual mixture of curiosity and warmth. He was her rock. Her ocean. Her world. And she knew that the same was true for him. She was his rock. His ocean. His world.

Anna tried to put all of those feelings into words. “You—I need you to know that you’re—uh—perfect, Kristoff. Really perfect.” She used this word a lot. He doesn’t like it, he said. It’s not true, he said. He has his flaws, he said. But to Anna, even his flaws were perfect. So, he was perfect.

Kristoff smiled again. Mischievous still. But happy. Pleased. Tonight, he wouldn’t argue with her. He placed his hand on Anna’s swollen belly, rubbing gently. “I like this. Baby is free to be massive now.”

“Oh, shut up and help me put my dress back on,” Anna said through a laugh. “Might be a tough task since my waistline has expanded probably five sizes.”

“I’m up for the challenge.” Kristoff said, pulling desperately hard on either side of her dress before he could button them together. Eventually, he managed. Sure, the button stretched a bit and it threatened to pop off, but he thought maybe it would hold. At least for that evening.

“How do I look?” She gave him a twirl, settling in closer to him and cupping her belly slightly. She loved showing it off. The exciting proof of their future. Of what would come in May. “Ugh. I don’t wanna keep this a secret anymore. This is awful. How I lasted this long—it’s torture! Kristoff! Encourage our little one to make its presence known. Please, please, please.”

He smiled at his wife, dropping to his knees. Rubbing circles on her belly and planting gentle kisses all over before pulling away slightly, both hands still resting on the swell. Kristoff leaned in closer again and whispered, “Hey, little one…your mama and papa love you so much and want to tell the whole world how much we love you so we can celebrate you and love you publicly and—can you stretch out for us or move your little arms and legs or something? Mama and Papa are here for you, watching you grow… loving you…” He kissed her belly again. “We love you, little one.”

“Aww, Kris. You’re so cute.”

He stood up slowly. Waiting to see if it worked. Not that it had in the past… but still hopeful. Nothing. “You ready to go?”

“I’m ready to eat if that’s what you mean.”

They walked hand in hand through the castle hallways, still bursting with the beautiful harmonies of the choir, and finally through the doors of the ballroom. Each and every Arendellian guest turned to watch the Queen and King, or Prince—whatever—consort’s grand entrance. Some even started clapping. Clearly the party was already considered a hit.

Anna noticed out of the corner of her eye that a few of the women had started whispering to each other, their eyes glued to Anna’s midsection. Maybe even saying four people didn’t know was an overestimation.

Come on, little one. Move.

But still nothing.

Instead, Anna’s stomach growled, and she knew she needed to get to the food tables. Pronto. She saw Elsa there, too, finishing up the last of the ice sculptures. A reindeer looking much like Sven perched excitedly by the pickled herring. Perfect. Two birds, one stone.

Anna bounded up to her sister first, skipping in an unbridled excitement. Unfortunately, this excitement was almost purely due to the promise of stuffing lutefisk into her belly which made her mind want to stage a rebellion against her stomach at the very idea. But she paid no mind.

Her fabulous sister, first.

“Elsa, I’m so glad you came!”

Elsa laughed. Remaining calm, of course. As usual. She stood tall as Anna collapsed into her arms. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss your favorite night of the year.”

“Thanks for doing the sculptures, too. Everybody loves them,” Anna said, eyes drifting to the series of sculptures that adorned the space, catching a glimpse of a replica of her favorite snowman and smiling widely. “Especially giant Olaf at the dessert table.”

“That one’s my favorite to make.” Elsa took a step back, away from her sister by a couple paces. She took a moment to gaze intently at Anna, something that apparently had become the theme for the day, pursing her lips while deep in some train of thought. And then, suddenly, the corners of her mouth curled into a giddy grin. She closed the gap between them and whispered in Anna’s ear, “You’re glowing.”

Anna laughed. Elsa’s breath kind of tickled her ear. “I know, right?!”

“Is it weird if I say that I think pregnancy suits you?”

“Whoa, Elsa. That is way out of line. And you said the word pregnant? Shame on you!” Anna’s voice got dramatically low when she uttered the taboo word she didn’t actually think needed to be taboo.

Elsa blushed. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“I’m kidding, Elsa! I agree with you. Will come in handy—you know—because we want lots of babies and everything,” Anna said. “I love the word pregnant, too. It’s so much easier and less awkward than the whole with child or in the family way nonsense. Like talk about beating around the bush. Jesus.”

“You hungry?”

“Oh, God yes. Thanks for reminding me.” Anna turned, reading to make a beeline for the lutefisk. But then she chuckled slightly and spun back to face her sister. “You’ll never guess what I want to eat, though.”

“Uh—herring?”

“Lutefisk.”

“Lutefisk? You—Anna—want to eat lutefisk?”

“I legitimately want to stuff twenty-five pounds of lutefisk into my mouth right now.”

Elsa laughed in pure shock. “You’re right. I never would’ve guessed.”

“I don’t know if it’s the salt or the disgustingly chewy yet soft consistency that’s getting me going, but it’s doing it. I’m feeling all tingly thinking about it.” Anna shuddered involuntarily How did that sound so good? Truly how? Repulsive. Lutefisk was nothing short of repulsive. “Can you help me fill some plates full?”

“I think your King already has you covered.”

Kristoff, goofy grin plastered on his face, approached the sisters with three plates full of lutefisk and potatoes precariously perched on top of each other. Somehow his left hand held two full glasses of mulled wine.

He passed her a glass of wine and one plate of lutefisk to start. “For you, my love.” He handed the other glass of wine to Elsa who graciously accepted.

Anna attacked the plate. Slurping down the fish in record time. Her face twisted in to some kind of combination of a gag and a smile. “Oh God this is truly horrendous.” Gulp. “Horrid. No…disgusting.” Gulp. “And so grossly…slimy?” Gulp. One plate down. Kristoff handed her the next one. “But also… man oh man does it really hit the spot.”

“I always liked lutefisk,” Kristoff said, taking a piece for himself.

Anna stopped what she was doing and shot daggers at him. “So this is your fault? Lutefisk and a massive … I swear we’re gonna find a way for the trolls to make you go through this next time.”

“You know you love it.” Kristoff smiled mischievously yet again. Taking another satisfied bite of the lutefisk.

Anna pouted playfully and grabbed one handful of lutefisk, flinging it directly into Kristoff’s face. “Trolls.” Another piece. “You.” And another. Kristoff had started opening his mouth to catch the pieces, swallowing in bliss with each successful catch and each delicious bite. “Next.” Anna tried to remain serious, but a smile was toying on her lips. Another toss. “Time.” The grand finale. Anna tricked Kristoff with a fake throw and tossed it into her own mouth instead. He furrowed her eyebrows and looked around, confused. Not having any inkling as to what actually happened. Elsa had started cracking up. Those two. Always getting up to some kind of ridiculous antics.

Anna couldn’t contain her laughter anymore and it came spilling out quickly to the point where she could barely catch her breath. She felt something like gas bubbling in her stomach and tried to calm herself, worried she had upset the whole peace of her body by gorging herself with food and then laughing too hard. But she didn’t have any burp in her… curious. Gassy without gas. Once she had successfully quelled her laughter, she started feeling it again. Gas … or bubbles … or butterflies teeming in her stomach?

Or…

OR…

OR!

Anna outwardly gasped. One hand immediately shot to her abdomen and the other covered her mouth.

Elsa and Kristoff both looked at her curiously, both cocking their head in the exact same way.

“Oh my God it’s happening!” Anna squealed, bouncing up and down so frantically that her mulled wine kept spilling over the cup.

They continued to look at her, confused as ever.

Both her hands rested on her stomach now. “It feels like… all of Elsa’s ice fireworks are going off in here!”

Now Kristoff and Elsa understood. Their eyes widened, they audibly gasped.

Still bouncing, Anna giggled. “Oooh tickly!”

“Anna?!” Kristoff ventured. She beamed at him and motioned him closer. He wrapped one strong arm around her and pulled her in for a hug, other hand staying low, secretly stroking her stomach.

She whispered in his ear. “Can you feel it? Can you feel our little one? At least…I think that’s what’s happening. I’ve never felt anything like this before. I mean gassy but—not gassy…” Plus, mother’s intuition? She just knew this was it. The Quickening. Finally!

He shook his head. “I don’t feel anything. But—I think that’s normal? I can…imagine it takes a while to feel it on the—outside,” Kristoff said, still close to her, hand still firmly on her belly. “But you feel it. Anna, it’s—wow. It’s real. This is happening. I’m so—I’ve never been more—this is the happiest I’ve ever felt.” He kissed her, passionately, on the lips.

“Me too,” Anna said as she pulled away, looking longingly into his fiery brown eyes. Another little flutter resonated through her and she giggled. Pressing her hand and thus Kristoff’s hand deeper into her stomach. “I wish you could feel it.”

“Someday.” He kissed her again.

“Screw the troll idea. You were right. This is so cool. Totally worth the lutefisk cravings.” Their laughter was interrupted by Elsa’s hands looping over both of their shoulders, hugging them tightly. Excitedly.

“Kristoff, Anna! Congratulations. Both of you.”

“Aww, thanks, sister,” Anna said, chuckling into her smile. Noting that Elsa’s cheeks seemed markedly more flushed and she wondered if the mulled wine had already gotten to her. “Wait.” Anna started bouncing again. So enthusiastically that neither Elsa nor Kristoff could keep holding onto her. “This means we can tell people! Oh my gosh can we tell them tonight? Can we, can we, can we?”

“How about right now?”

“Right now?” Anna’s voice cracked. “Right now right now?”

“Let’s go.” Kristoff held out his hand and Anna grabbed it quickly, forcefully. With all the intent in the whole world.

They raced to the small stage where the choir and the band performed. Their royal presence was enough to stop the singing mid-phrase, choir members bowing at attention.

“You don’t need to do that,” Anna said. “Your singing is beautiful, by the way. Thank you for being here. Uh—we just wanted to make an announcement. If that’s okay, of course. We can wait!” Somehow, Anna’s extreme giddiness was still manifesting as a constant and consistent bounce.

The choir singers looked at each other with what Anna perceived as knowing glances, and then nodded for the King and Queen to proceed.

They took center stage, Anna still bouncing, hand-in-hand. “Uh—hello, Arendelle! We wanted to take the time to thank you all for coming to the annual Christmas Ball. We hope you’re enjoying the food and the music and the holiday merriment! We are so happy this has become a tradition, and if I do say so myself, this might be the best ball yet. And not only because of—well, the ball… as of well—tonight, actually, Kristoff and I can finally announce that …” Anna took a moment to scan the crowd of eager faces. Maybe there were more than four who had no idea. “We’re having a baby!” Anna squealed and then screamed, raising her arm and thus also Kristoff’s arm into the air. Kristoff had also let out a few cheers. The crowd applauded, reaching a steady crescendo just as Kristoff picked Anna up and spun her around, giddily laughing, before bringing her face into his hands for a tender kiss. He then dropped to his knees in front of his wife, leaning in slightly, large hands now cupping her belly. Showing off her belly. Celebrating her belly. No more hiding. Just like Anna had wanted. He planted a tender kiss on the curve and the crowd cheered once again. Anna’s hands found their way into his hair and she ruffled it a bit, messing it up in a way she found exceedingly adorable. She turned back to the crowd, Kristoff still rubbing her belly in elation. “Baby Bjorgman is coming at the end of May!” Now Anna noticed a small corner of the crowd exchanging pieces of gold. Of course there had been some bets going on. She wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Kristoff stood up, kissed Anna once more, and then grabbed her hand, interlacing her fingers with his own. Anna took her other hand and cupped her belly, showing the crowd in more detail exactly how far along she was. Exactly. No mind games from any extra clothing. The buttons on her dress were still close to breaking loose. “Oh, and another thing! Maternity corsets are for the birds. It can’t be healthy to wear them all… tight and constricting and—” Without knowing how to control it, Anna shuddered a bit. So happy to be free. And safe. “Besides—let it all hang out, baby!” She did a little dance right then, shaking her rump and rubbing her belly. Laughter echoed throughout the crowd and then a whole conversation stirred. Anna hoped it wasn’t too judgmental… she didn’t want them to think she had taken anything too far.

But no matter. Kristoff was right. As Queen, she could make some rules. She could set some expectations. Even if not well received in the beginning, they could still hold weight.

Kristoff leaned in to whisper in Anna’s ear. “No more secrets.”

She smiled. Thank God. “Shall we celebrate?”

He nodded. “Let’s dance.”

The choir started singing again. The band joined in. The Holly and The Ivy, a Christmas classic. Merriment abound. Merriment all around. Although Kristoff and Anna took the lead, dancing alone for a few minutes, eventually more and more guests joined in. A little bit of Hallingdansen, a lot bit of pols, and the most bit of Kristoff taking advantage of the fact that the whole kingdom knew how overjoyed they were with the news of their growing family by essentially hardcore smooching in the middle of the dance floor. Their tongues had a good time dancing the Halling, too, and they paid absolutely no mind to the fact that all eyes were on them. Maybe the mulled wine was getting to them, too, or perhaps it was simply euphoria. Between the kisses, Kristoff frequently dropped to his knees to kiss Anna’s stomach or rub excited circles over the curves during the dances. Anna giggled each time, noticing that the flutters seemed to come in more enthusiastic waves when Kristoff’s hands or lips came in contact with her belly.

This felt good. To finally have the freedom to really celebrate. True bliss. True happiness. The best of all the past Christmas Balls. And they had a feeling no future ball could ever compare.

[seven-oomen]

The way I tend to be | The DILF Club

Happy Holidays to everyone! Have some delicious smut or our favorite DILFS, there's even some plot in this! Hope you like it because I have a universe thought out for this and if it does well, I'll share more!

It wasn’t doing as well on Ao3 as I was hoping for and I’m curious to see if it’ll do better here. If you enjoy it, please reblog, like, and/or comment on it. This is also a test to see if people still reblog fanfiction from me and if Once Upon a Time would do well on Tumblr. Which is my longest and most elaborate fanfic to date.

Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Sheriff Stilinski, Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Chris Argent/Sheriff Stilinski, Peter Hale/Sheriff Stilinski Characters: Chris Argent, Peter Hale, Sheriff Stilinski Additional Tags: Sheriff Stilinski's Name is Noah, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, Cabin Fic, trans chris argent, Bisexual Peter Hale, Alpha Peter Hale, Trans Male Character, Bisexual Sheriff Stilinski, Bisexual Chris Argent, Double Vaginal Penetration, Double Penetration, Breeding, Creampie, Unprotected Sex Series: Part 1 of The way I tend to be

-

Fate could be a very cruel mistress when she wanted to be. And often she came together with a little vicious thing called irony.

The last year had been crazy. He discovered werewolves, banshees, wendigos, and werecoyotes were real, and so was whatever Kira was supposed to be. Chris Argent, Allison’s father and Isaac’s foster father, turned out to be a hunter, and the little bane of his existence during his career as a deputy, a certain Peter Hale, turned out to be a werewolf. As was Peter’s nephew Derek and his niece Cora. He still couldn’t completely wrap his head around that one.

They’d fought together, protected the town together, and now protected their children together.

That didn’t always go well, of course. One of them was a hunter, the other a werewolf, and somehow he always found himself right in between the other two trying to break up their fights.

A lot, and a lot of therapy for all three of them, had fixed that for the most part.

Still, there were times when he really wished he could duct tape Peter to the ceiling, mostly because the man was still a delinquent with a golden tongue, but mostly just because he was annoying. At least the werewolf was now firmly on their side and had proven that by nearly dying for both the other adults and all of the kids on multiple occasions. He’d really turned a new leaf. Still annoying as fuck, don’t get him wrong. But at least not reprehensible.

It was Peter’s new loyalty and Chris’s new code that had led him to go along with them on this particular mission. A mission to find a lone werewolf kid causing trouble around Mount Shasta. Since it was only two hours from Beacon Hills, he’d agreed to go over with the other two.

Their cover?

They were the chaperons on a school field trip to go skiing on the mountain for a week. Which had been the luckiest of coincidences in the history of coincidences but he’d take it. And since Stiles, Mikey, Malia, Jackson, Isaac, and Allison were all going, well, the rest of that was history.

“Peter, I swear to god if I find your socks anywhere near my bed again I will throw you through this window myself!” Chris snapped, holding up a pair of light blue socks with pink flamingos on them.

Ah. So that’s where his socks had gone off too. He was wondering where’d he left them.

“Those aren’t mine!” Peter bit back, looking so insulted at the mere idea of having to wear said socks that he couldn’t help but be offended at his offense. “I would never wear those monstrosities!”

“Right, I just keep finding random people’s socks in my bed for the last three days…” Chris growled, “You expect me to believe that?”

He bit his lip, wondering if he should admit to being the culprit. Since he was the only other person who had a bed in this room he figured Chris would draw that conclusion as well. But apparently, the hunter really hadn’t considered it.

The werewolf cocked his head to the left and sneered. “I’m not the only one who has a bed here beside you.”

Those fierce blue eyes turned to him and he couldn’t help but smile awkwardly at the both of them. “Yeah, those are mine.”

Peter smirked triumphantly at Chris, his eyebrows raised in a clear; I told you so.

To his credit, Chris pursed his lips and wordlessly handed him the bunched up socks of the last few days. His silver-blue eyes lingering with something that wasn’t quite a glare, but the man wasn’t exactly happy with him either.

“Thank you.” He quickly put his runaway socks into his duffel bag and straightened out the covers on his bed to keep himself busy.

“You owe me an apology, Christopher…” Peter’s voice sang through the room and a glance found the hunter glaring back at the wolf.

“I’m sorry for blaming you immediately.” Chris sighed, straightening out his own bed before checking the equipment in his backpack.

“Thank you,” Peter turned back to him and stared at him rather expectantly. “Noah?”

He had to admit he felt a little bit guilty for what had happened. He sighed softly as he shoved his water bottle, his sleeping bag, and some provisions into his backpack, looking up at the wolf sheepishly. “I’m sorry Peter, I’ll uh-” His eyes flicked to an expectant looking Chris, “I’ll keep a better eye on my socks and speak up when you’re blamed again.”

The wolf smiled mischievously at his apology, his eyes flicking from Chris to himself for a brief moment. “Thank you, now we really need to talk about your fashion choices, because those socks-”

Chris’s laughter followed him out of the room as he grabbed his packed bag and his orange ski jacket and headed out the door.

-

The trek up the mountain was not an easy one and they only had until nightfall to explore the area. He pulled the black beanie further over his ears and his gloves on a little tighter and looked over his shoulder.

Chris walked ahead of him, his blue ski jacket standing out against the white snow, a red beanie pulled over his ears to keep him warm.

Peter brought up the rear, his red ski jacket and brown beanie complementing one another in a rather surprising way. But if anyone could pull it off, he supposed it was the wolf.

They pushed through the snow and the wind, hoisting backpacks up higher and threading on while trying to find one lonely werewolf kid who needed their help. The wind started picking up as the hours progressed and once the snow started coming down and whipped around them, he realized that they weren’t going to be able to get back any time soon.

With their sight blocked off by the sudden incoming storm and nowhere to huddle they had no other choice but to walk on. He could no longer see where he was walking, only saw the bright blue of Chris’s ski jacket in front of him and before he knew it, he was face down in the snow and heard someone yelling his name.

“Noah!”

Someone picked him up and he felt two gloved hands cup his face. It took him a moment to register that it was Peter who picked him up and was currently cradling his face. He wasn’t sure how the concerned look on Peter’s face made him feel.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, but it was one he hadn’t been expecting. It was warm and tingly. Peter’s blue eyes made him think of the ocean and moonlit beaches with a soft breeze and the soft calls of whales in the background-

“Noah… Are you still on this planet?”

Peter’s words pulled him out of his thoughts. “What?”

The wolf frowned at him and gently patted him over his body to check him for injuries. He swatted at the wolf’s hands to put a stop to it and pursed his lips. “I’m fine, but we need to get out of the cold.”

Peter raised an eyebrow but nodded in agreement, turning back to Chris who had come towards them. “We need to get out of this wind, find shelter!”

“I know!” Chris yelled back, trying to carry his voice over the roar of the wind. “I think I saw a cabin up ahead!”

Chris looped his arm over his left while Peter looped his through his right and together they started tracking up the slope. The silhouette of the cabin quickly came closer with every step and they quickly headed over. They had to let go of each other to walk up the porch and Chris tested the door. It was locked, of course.

“Shit.” Chris muttered, “Look around for a key, usually-”

He started looking under several pots next to the door and found a key under the second one. Though a loud bang told him that they would no longer need a key.

“Or we could kick in the door…” Chris sighed while Peter held the door open for them to let them in.

Chris went in first, drawing his gun from inside his jacket as he checked the cabin room for room. He followed after the hunter, trying to suppress his hands from shaking and his body from shivering as the cold started to set in around him. Some snow had gotten into his jacket when he’d face-planted into the ground and it was creating a wet spot on his clothes as his body heat caused it to melt. The water also cooled down his body, especially in these temperatures.

Peter brought up the rear once more, eyes glowing a bright red as he scanned their surroundings and scented the air. The wolf behind him relaxed after a few moments, closing the door behind him by propping a chair from the little kitchen under the handle so it stayed locked.

“Cabin’s empty.” Peter and Chris said in unison. They walked up to him, frowning as they noticed his shivering, though he was doing his best to suppress it. He felt Peter’s incredibly warm hand against his forehead and couldn’t help but lean into it. He wasn’t sure how hot Peter ran in general, but it was definitely a few degrees higher than Chris or himself. Right now, that was a very welcome feature of the werewolf.

“He’s colder than he should be,” Peter muttered, gently guiding him towards the large fireplace in the middle of the room. “Come on, let’s get you heated up.”

“Did his jacket rip?” Chris asked, looking around for paper, wood, and other items they could burn.

Peter patted him down, despite his best efforts to keep the wolf’s hands off him. Werewolf strength could be quite unfair and if he wasn’t so damn cold he would have complained about the little shit sitting him down and throwing his own red ski jacket over him.

“Doesn’t seem to be but the collar is all wet and against his skin, looks like snow got in.”

“Aren’t you gonna get cold?” He raised an eyebrow at the black sweater Peter was wearing but also pulled the jacket closer and breathed in the wolf’s scent.

“I run a hundred and two degrees on a normal day.” Peter smiled, his face illuminated by the first sparks of the fire that Chris got running. It gave him a warm… almost soft look.

“It’s a werewolf thing,” Chris added, “Their body heat is higher than ours, it protects them from hypothermia, aids in their immunity against disease as well. One of those unfair advantages.”

He chuckled in response, his shivering already dying down now that the heat from the fire picked up and he had an extra layer. “That so?”

Peter hummed in agreement. “As is our superior sense of fashion.”

“Even Derek?” He asked, earning a laugh from Chris.

Peter pursed his lips and squinted his eyes. “Derek’s the exception to that rule.”

A laugh escaped him as Peter sat down next to him, though the laugh died on his lips as he noticed the concerned look Peter was giving the fire. It sobered him up considerably, knowing what Peter had been through, how close he was now sitting to something that had hurt him so much.

“Are you okay?”

The softness of his voice must have drawn Chris’s attention as well as the hunter had turned to look at them, his brow furrowing as he watched Peter’s face carefully. “Peter?”

Chris sat down on his other side, keeping a close eye on Peter while pretending to stare at the fire. Still, he noticed how Chris’s hands twitched in his lap and his eyes kept flicking to the wolf.

For a moment it seemed like Peter was lost in thought, staring into the growing fire with widening eyes. He noticed the wolf’s breathing picking up and his shaking hands. He carefully reached out and laid his own hand on top of Peter’s, startling the other man.

“What?” Peter relaxed at his touch and leaned into him unconsciously. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. It’s just-”

His eyes flicked back to the fire.

He didn’t have to say it out loud.

“Yeah,” He pulled Peter’s jacket closer and pulled his legs up to minimize the loss of warmth. “We can turn it down if you need that.”

Chris frowned at those words, eyes flicking from him to Peter, before slowly nodding in agreement. “It wouldn’t be ideal, but if it’s hurting you-”

“No.” Peter quickly interrupted him. “No, I’m fine. And you both need the fire. I just- I might need a distraction.”

“Distraction?” Chris raised an eyebrow at the word, earning a smirk from Peter in the process.

“Yes, the dictionary defines it as a thing that prevents someone from concentrating on something else. Or do you need a clearer definition, Christopher?”

“You don’t have to be a dick about it, Peter…” Chris looked down at his hands and shrugged. “We all have our own demons we want to forget.”

Peter went a little quiet at that, staring down at his feet while he scooted closer to him. “You’re right, it’s just-” His eyes flicked back to the fire.

“I get it…” Chris’s smile was soft as the hunter reached behind him to lay a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

It was nice, to be wedged between the two younger men and feel their warmth seep through him. He let himself lean back against Chris’s arm and laid his head on Peter’s shoulder. It just felt like the right thing to do in that moment. “It’s okay.” He whispered.

Chris frowned as he noticed the color difference of his gray sweater and trailed a hand over it, stopping at the collar as he felt the dampness. His warm hand trailed down over his collarbone and down his chest until he hit a dry spot. “You’re half soaked, we need to get that sweater off you and get you in something dry.”

He looked down at his body and froze. He didn’t show his bare chest to anyone. Ever. Even while sharing a room with the other two, he’d always gone to the bathroom to change. There were certain things he didn’t want anyone else to know, his past being one of them.

If anyone understands, it would be these two.

A little voice in his head told him. Yeah, it was right and he knew that. But what if they’d look at him differently?

Chris handed him a dark green sweater from his bag, having dragged said bag over with his foot, and gently started lifting his shirt. The hunter stopped after an inch and raised an eyebrow.

He was asking for permission.

He slowly shook his head. “I’ll do it.” And gently peeled the half wet garment from him and over his head. Constantly aware of what his aging body looked like. At fifty-three his best days had passed. He wasn’t as muscled as Peter or as lean and strong as Chris. His chest had a softness to it from all the fast food he’d been eating and he was showing his age with little marks, freckles, and the scars from years of abuse. The most obvious one being the scar on his left shoulder.

He paused for a second, jumping a little when Chris’s hand hovered over the scar. Though the hunter pulled away quickly and looked like he might apologize. Though the words seemed to get stuck in his throat.

“What happened?” It was Peter who broke the silence.

He wasn’t sure what he could say, felt tears prickling in his eyes and for a moment he heard his father’s booming vague voice ringing through his ears. “My father happened, he uhm, I didn’t let him hurt my mother,” He sighed, “and he pushed me through our coffee table.”

“Jesus…” Peter whispered, gently squeezing his right shoulder in comfort.

“I’m sorry…” Chris muttered, rubbing his own scarred hands in discomfort.

“We all have our own demons… Right?” He shrugged and put Chris’s green sweater on, quickly figuring out that the fit would work but was on the tight side as the edges of his sleeves stopped a little too high on the wrist. It was also a little on the short side at the middle.

He sighed. “At least it’s dry.”

Peter bit his lip and looked like he was having great difficulty with keeping his laughter contained. “It doesn’t look that bad…”

Chris wasn’t as kind and snorted before trying to cover it up with a cough.

He glared at the younger man but smiled after a minute or two. “Thank you, Chris.”

Chris let his eyes roam down and grinned. “You’re welcome.”

He laid his head back on Peter’s shoulder and pulled Chris closer for his warmth.

“So neither of you is going to distract me then?”

He didn’t know why he found that statement so funny but he couldn’t help but laugh at the annoyance in Peter’s voice. He felt Chris smile against his shoulder as the hunter laid his head down on it for a second.

“How do you propose we do that, Peter?” The hunter lifted his head and leaned in just a bit, just inches away from Peter’s face.

The wolf answered Chris with a smirk. Gently putting a finger under Chris’s chin to pull him closer. “I have an idea, it’ll also keep you both warm.”

“Will it now?” Chris’s smooth deep voice send a shiver down his spine and made his cock twitch. He swallowed rather heavily in response.

God, he wanted Chris to command him in that voice, to tell him to take off his clothes and put his ass up in the air and-

“I think someone likes the sound of that voice…” Peter purred into his ear, the wolf laid a finger under his chin and lifted his head to face Chris.

“Do it again.”

He stared into Chris’s silver-blue eyes, warmth traveling down his body and stirring in his loins as the hunter smiled deviously.

“Hmm, what do you think sheriff ?” Chris purred the last word, he couldn’t help the little sound of desperation that escaped him. A sound that he echoed as Peter leaned in and gently nipped at his ear.

“I think he hates it.” Peter grinned against his cheek and slowly started nipping his way down his jaw and to his neck. “I think he might want us to stop.”

The wolf paused and he growled in response, reaching behind him to cup the back of Peter’s head and pull him back down. “Don’t you dare, Peter.”

Peter laughed in response and gently pulled him into his lap before continuing his lovely assault on his neck. He moaned happily and wiggled a little to get more comfortable and rub his ass against the growing bulge beneath him. Peter’s laugh dissolved into a moan.

Chris smirked at them, slowly trailing his hands up Noah’s thighs though he stopped just short of his groin, a silent question in his eyes. He nodded enthusiastically, too occupied to answer due to Peter biting the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck without breaking it. “Fuck me…”

Peter paused in his marking efforts, growling into his ear as he forced him to focus on Chris by grabbing a hold of his jaw. He felt Peter’s nails gently scratching his skin. “Oh, I think Christopher might have a better idea.”

Chris’s hand traveled up and cupped his cock through his pants, gently rubbing and stimulating the hardening member. He in turn squirmed in Peter’s lap and felt the Alpha’s clothed cock press against the cleft of his ass.

“Does he now?” He moaned softly.

Chris scooted closer and placed a leg on each side of his lap, sharing a passionate kiss with Peter before he turned his focus back on Noah. Chris pulled him up a little by the collar of his borrowed sweater and for a moment he thought the younger man would kiss him as well. Chris leaned in but stopped just short and smiled. “I’m gonna ride you both at the same time.”

As hot as that sounded, his brain short-circuited for a moment. He paused and blinked, cocking his head to the left as he tried to figure out how exactly that was going to work. “How is that gonna fit, we don’t have lube.”

Chris chuckled in response and gently lifted Noah’s hands to cup his ass. “You’re just gonna have to get me wet enough.”

Wet enough? He was missing something here. Not that he was complaining, Chris’s ass was phenomenal.

Peter took pity on him. “I think he doesn’t know. Maybe you should show him.”

The absolutely feral grin Chris gave him made his breath stutter.

“Let’s have some fun then.”

He felt Peter smile against his neck, the Alpha going back to his assault to suck a few more hickeys into the sensitive skin. That was gonna be a bitch to hide from Stiles, Mikey, and Liam but considering that every touch sent electricity through his body, he wasn’t going to complain much.

Chris opened his own pants but didn’t slip them down. Instead, he zipped down Noah’s and continued his teasing touch.

A soft squeaky moan escaped him as Chris’s hand rubbed him through the fabric and slowly massaged him to a throbbing erection. Peter in the meantime had started rubbing himself against his ass while continuing his assault on his neck and even his shoulders. He was gonna be bruised and sore by tomorrow, that was for sure.

“He’s pretty when he’s marked up,” Chris commented as he slipped his hand inside Noah’s underwear and wrapped a hand around his hard cock. The other man stroked it slowly, keeping his touch light and gentle as he worked from the sensitive head to the base, and then slipped him out of his restraining clothes as he worked himself back up.

“Pretty down there too…” The hunter remarked, smiling as he studied Noah’s cock for a moment, fingers tracing over the thick veins down to his balls.

Peter let out a delighted moan behind him, one that he echoed as the wolf made him grind down on while Peter thrust up. It was a goddamn shame they didn’t have any lube because he really wanted that thick cock to wreck his ass right then and there. But Chris clearly had a different plan.

The hunter guided one of his left hand from its place on Chris’s ass up to his own mouth, offering him his own fingers with a firm. “Suck on them, get them wet.”

Processing that command took him a second but he caught on quickly and started sucking on his index and middle finger. Bobbing his head up and down and swirling his tongue around the digits until they were coated in his own saliva.

Chris gently pulled Noah’s fingers free after a few moments and guided his hand down Chris’s pants. His mouth opening in a little ‘O’ when his fingers didn’t brush over a hard cock but instead found soft curls and a wet cunt. Oh, that made a whole lot of sense. His cock twitched excitedly and he couldn’t help but grin and lick his lips as he slowly started rubbing the soft folds and sensitive clit. Using his wet fingers as lube to ease his way.

Chris’s breath hitched as he circled the sensitive little nub and applied varying amounts of pressure. He enthusiastically met him for a passionate kiss, causing Peter to groan, followed by a desperate moan once the wolf caught on what they were doing.

He heard a zipper behind him opening and felt the brush of Peter’s hand against his ass. Knowing Peter, he was practically drooling while jerking himself off as he watched them make out.

“Fuck that’s hot,” Peter whispered.

Chris grinned against his lips and leaned back, watching both of them with a hungry leer. The hunter leaned back and pulled away much to his dismay. His wet hand dropped to his side and he held it up to get a quick taste of Chris. He felt Peter practically vibrate behind him as he let out a hungry moan.

Chris came back quickly with one of the sleeping bags, zipped it open and laid it out on the floor before he took off his pants and commanded him in that silky voice, “Lay down on your back.”

The command made him shiver and he scrambled quickly to do the hunter’s bidding. Laying down on the sleeping bag. He was rewarded for his quick action by a gentle blow on his cock and the hunter’s questioning gaze.

“Please…” He begged softly, squirming at Chris’s burning look. God, he wanted Chris to ride em like he stole em and talk dirty to him until his toes curled and he came screaming their names. Judging by the hungry smile the hunter sent him in return, his fantasy might just be fulfilled tonight.

“Please what, sheriff ?” The hunter’s voice vibrated through him and he noticed Peter shuddering as well. The wolf’s breath ragged and his cock leaking precum.

“Oh for the love of God, Chris if you don’t start sucking me off-” He moaned as Chris licked a path from his balls to the tip of his cock before deep throating him in one smooth move, effectively cutting him off.

The hunter hollowed his cheeks and slowly worked his way up, making his toes curl as warmth exploded through him, and his heart hammered in his chest.

He felt Peter settle, one knee on each side of his head, and looked up to see the wolf was offering him his own hard member. He smirked and lapped at the leaking head, moaning at the slightly bitter but not unpleasant taste.

“Turn your ass around Chris I want to taste you,” Peter growled.

Chris demonstrated just how flexible he could be by putting a leg on either side of him and raising his hips in the air without hitting him in the process, his lips never leaving their attention to his cock.

Peter’s appreciative moan had him shivering in response. He continued his worship of the wolf’s member with short licks to the head and worked his way down to the heavy balls, taking each in his mouth and rolled it around on his tongue before working his way back up.

He heard Chris moan, long and filthy above him, and watched as Peter’s enthusiastic licking, sucking, and tongue fucking of Chris’s cunt was met with equal enthusiasm as Chris fucked the wolf’s face. He felt the hunter’s legs contract and shudder after a few minutes, gasps escaping Chris as he came hard on Peter’s tongue. He even felt some fluid hit him on the chin as the hunter squirted his juices over them, much to his surprise and Peter’s delight.

“I hoped you could still do that.” The Alpha growled, playfully biting Chris’s ass without breaking the skin and slapping his other cheek.

Chris pulled away from them and took a few strides and deep breaths to come down from his high. Then grinned and swayed his hips as he walked back to them and smoothly straddled him.

“Oh, I can do far more than that.” The hunter chuckled. “What do you say?”

He groaned softly and quickly nodded his consent. “Please…”

Peter growled in response, red eyes glowing as he walked around them to sink behind Chris. “Why don’t you ride us, sweetheart?”

Chris smirked in return. Gently grabbing a hold of his cock and guiding him into the hunter’s tight wet heat. He nearly came on the spot but managed to hold back just enough by focusing on a spot on the ceiling and letting out a slow breath to ground himself while Chris slowly got used to his length and girth. He wasn’t the biggest or thickest guy, and thankfully neither was Peter or this was never gonna fit, but neither of them were exactly small either and Chris would need to adjust to each of them.

After a moment or two, the hunter slowly raised himself and moved his hips in slow, long strokes until he slid in and out easily and Chris could pick up some pace. His toes started curling and the warmth in his belly started pooling slowly, gradually building with each thrust and stroke until Chris pulled up enough to keep only the tip of his cock in.

He hadn’t even noticed Peter coming closer until the wolf aligned the head of his cock against his own as he slowly pushed the first few inches into Chris’s cunt beside him.

“Fuck…” He moaned, eyes rolling back into his head as Chris slowly sank on both of their cocks. They rubbed together in the tight wet heat of Chris’s cunt and he could feel every pulse, throb, and twitch coming from the wolf’s cock.

Chris paused once he had them both down halfway, his chest heaving with every breath and a large grin on his face. The hunter leaned over him, sinking himself further on Noah’s cock but forcing Peter’s further out. Chris then grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head, checking over his shoulder to see if Peter was on board, who grinned in return.

The moment Chris started moving, riding him like a prized stallion, Peter pushed his hips up every time Chris pushed down. Rubbing both their cocks together, lubed by Chris’s juices as the entire lengths met and rolled together with each thrust.

A string of moans and desperate little sounds left his throat as he surrendered to the warmth and feelings of pleasure that surged through him with every move. He felt it intensifying with each stroke, each move. Amplified by the wet sounds of Chris’s cunt and his little moans of pleasure, Peter’s growls and harder thrusts and by the twitching and throbbing of the wolf’s cock besides his own.

He managed to hold out for several minutes before his toes curled, his body convulsed and heat exploded in his loins. His cock twitched and pulsed as he came hard and in long spurts, while Chris continued to ride him and Peter continued to thrust in beside his twitching cock.

It didn’t take long for the wolf to let out a long moan and join him. Their cocks twitching and throbbing together as they came deep inside Chris and filled him with their cum. He felt Peter slump forward, held up by Chris as the wolf shuddered his last wave of ecstasy.

Chris continued to ride them, though the movement of his hips was greatly reduced due to Peter’s weight on his back. Milking them for every last drop they had. Only when they were spent and Peter was practically napping from exhaustion did he let them slip from him.

The hunter gently maneuvered Peter from his back to lay him down on Noah’s right, furthest away from the fire and rummaged through his own backpack for wet wipes to clean them up.

“Now that was a distraction.” Noah grinned, pleased when Chris winked at him.

It took a minute for Peter to come back to them with a dopey grin. Watching with interest as Chris did his best to clean them and himself from all traces of their fucking. Pouting a little as the hunter pushed out as much of their cum as he could and wiped it away.

“That’s a damn shame…” Peter muttered. “We tried so hard to breed you.”

Chris merely chuckled. “Wasn’t gonna work anyway, I’ve been on testosterone for sixteen years and have an IUD. The odds of you knocking me up are astronomical.”

He couldn’t help but frown at Chris’s words, for tempting fate was never a particularly good idea. But on the other hand, the hunter did have a point on how unlikely it would be. They weren’t the youngest, Chris was on hormones, and if he also had an IUD. What on Earth were the odds then? They couldn’t be high to begin with, even if in the best circumstances.

So he scoffed and pulled his pants back up. Peter did the same and Chris located his and put them on as well. Another sleeping bag was pulled from somewhere. His jacket was put up near the fire, on the back of a chair to dry further. And Chris laid down next to them on the sleeping bag to hunker down for the next few hours until the storm died down.

At least they were warm, comfortable, and utterly sated for now.

He dozed off knowing that their dynamic had shifted. Yes, he still wanted to duct tape Peter to the ceiling. And Chris could still be a jerk when he wanted to be. But at the very least, this was the start to a very fun beneficial rump for all three of them. Whatever else fate wanted to throw at them, they could only wait and see.

-

So what do we think? Do we want more of this universe? Do we want more DILF smut? More Chris/Peter/Noah?

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[starlightinhumanform]

Midas

Fandom: Sanders Sides 

Ship: Romantic Loceit, Background Platonic Logincality

Summary: Greek myth tells of King Midas who could turn anything he touched to gold. Damian hates New Years but when his friends drag him to a party, he meets a man makes everything around him just a little better.

Warnings (in order of strength): A lot of drinking/alcohol mentions/partying (none underage), Mild language throughout, (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: Fluff, Mild Angst with a happy ending, Human (college) AU 

A/N: Deceit’s name is Damian in this fic :) ALSO I know there’s quite a few younger kids in this fandom and if you’re reading this (first of all, hi I love you) please please PLEASE do not take this fic as an inspiration to abuse alcohol. Underaged drinking/partying can be extremely dangerous. Ok enough being serious!! I hope you enjoy! Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3 Link    Fic Masterpost    Fic Request Info

Damian wasn’t a fan of New Years. It shouldn’t mean anything- he knew that. It was just another random day; the fact that people liked to put special significance on it didn’t actually do anything.

But all the talk of new times got into his head, made him think. It made him think about how many things had changed- the friends he had lost, the goals he had once held dear now thrown away. It made him think about how little he had grown- the bitterness he held onto, the stagnation that had settled across him. He was in his third year of grad-school; soon he would be shoved out into the real world with no academic purpose to shelter him.

“New Year, New Me.” Damian didn’t even know who he was.

If there was one thing he hated more than New Years, it was New Years parties. He would go so far as to say the things were the bane of his existence. The music was bad, people got loud and overly exuberant, and strobe lights were used were used far more than ever reasonable. Alcohol always floated around with disturbing prevalence. He hated how fuzzy it made his head- throwing off his balance and slowing his thoughts- but at least it made the party easier to handle.

Damian threw back a shot of cheap, bight blue tequila and winced as it hit the back of his throat. Disgusting. Just because he was trying to get drunk didn’t mean he lacked class.

He set the glass down on a table behind him so he could pretend he hadn’t touched the repulsive thing. He was sitting on a sofa tucked against the back corner of a living room in a house he had never been to before. Next to him, someone was already passed out. They would be starting their new year with a killer hangover.

Across the room, he could see the friends who had dragged him to the houseparty. Roman and Patton were dancing in a crowd of other students, broad grins painted across both of their faces. At least they were happy.

A young man weaved his way through the crowd and threw himself onto the sofa next to Damian with a mixture of disdain and defeat. Damian had seen him around a few times; they had a philosophy class together the last semester. What was his name? Lucas? Landon? Bradon?

“Hey,” Lu-nd-on elbowed him in the side, “You want some champagne?”

Damian raised an eyebrow as he turned to face the man, “Excuse me?”

He pulled a bottle of champagne from somewhere in his coat. The gold foil at the top was already ripped away and he popped the cork off with ease, taking a swig before offering it.

Damian tried not to stare incredulously, but it was a difficult task when his brain was short-circuiting, “Did you just drink out of a champagne bottle like it was a beer?”

“Sure. Why not.”

Damian reached out hesitantly to take the bottle. He was beginning to doubt that this actually was the guy he had shared a class with. That one looked like the type who wouldn’t have been caught dead at a party. The only similarity was the way they dressed- round wireframe glasses, a corduroy jacket over a black button down, and black skinny jeans. His hair- dark brown and pulled into a long ponytail- was the same too.

“Did- did we have a class together?” He took a drink. It was good- expensively good.

“Historical philosophy. You probably don’t remember me- my name’s Logan. You’re Damian, right?”

“Yep. I hear I’m kind of hard to forget,” Damian waved his hand at the dark red birthmark that stretched messily across the left side of his face.

“No. Well, yes. That is, I remember you for a different reason.”

Logan stared at him like he was supposed to understand what that meant. Damian stared back, hoping to convey the fact that he, in no way, understood what was going on.

“So, uh,” Damian searched for something to keep the conversation going, “can I ask about the champagne?”

“You’re asking why I have it?”

Damian nodded, “I am, yeah. Also why you pulled it out of your jacket?”

“As for the first question: people seem to have made a tradition out of getting wasted on New Years Eve and I decided to join them this year.”

Damian had never heard someone speak so matter of factly about getting drunk. He shook his head, laughing, “So you bought an entire bottle of champagne? There are easier methods, you know that right?”

“If you’re referring to the blue monstrosity everyone keeps offering, please know that I’m not a heathen.”

“Oh, so you tried one of those awful things too?”

Logan rolled his eyes with a ruthful smile, “I may have made that mistake.”

Damian handed the bottle back to Logan who took another drink before locking his gaze on Damian’s eyes. He stared like there was a problem in them and he just couldn’t figure out how to solve it. Damian was used to people staring, but not like this. Usually, they would take one look at him and their eyes would glaze over. Whatever the conversation might be, they would always be partially focused on the splatters some god had painted on his face long before he had a say in the matter. It wasn’t that Damian disliked his birthmark. He just hated the way people always saw it instead of him.

But Logan. He was looking at him. Into him, through him. He had no idea what to do with that.

Damian laughed nervously, “What are you looking at?”

Logan cleared his throat and stared out into the crowd, “Anyways I had it in my jacket because these people are all animals and I’d prefer they didn’t rob me of my 35 dollar champagne.”

Logan had handed him the bottle back and Damian choked on the mouthful he had been trying to drink, “I’m sorry, what? So let me get this right: you bought a champagne bottle which is worth more than I usually spend on food for a week. And now you are sharing it with me of all people?”

“Why not you of all people?”

Logan was staring at him again like answers to all of these riddles were obvious.

Damian blinked back, feeling more lost than he had in years. Even that stupid Advanced Geometry course he had decided to take in his freshman year hadn’t screwed him over this badly. Maybe the alcohol was finally getting to him. It would explain why he couldn’t hold a single coherent thought and why he was so hypnotized by the pale freckles that dusted Logan’s nose and cheekbones. They were so light they nearly melted into his skin and seemed to be phasing in and out off existence as the dim lighting played against Logan’s face. He had never noticed them before. Then again, he had never gotten this close before. It was a shame; Logan was mesmerizing. Damian wished he could get closer.

“So what are you going to do after we get out of here?”

It took Damian a moment to realize Logan was asking about a career and not what he would be doing after the party once they left- apparently together. That would have been strange; it was weird his brain even jumped to that conclusion.  Maybe he should stop drinking that damn champagne.

He sighed as his mind returned to the actual question. He wanted to make something up, hide behind a lie of certainty and determination. But it was too much work to weave that fabrication together. Especially on the spot. Especially with how his head was feeling. Especially in front of Logan. He hung his head, “Honestly I have no clue. I’ve always been interested in social sciences but beyond that... no plan, no clue.”

A beat of silence played out between them.  

“So what about you?” The forced brightness in his voice tasted fake and bitter in his mouth.

“I want to teach sciences,” Logan’s eyes glittered.

“A college professor, huh? I could definitely see it,” Logan handed him the bottle and Damian threw yet another swallow back. Didn’t he say he was going to stop?

“High school level, actually.”

“Really? That doesn’t seem-“ Damian pointed at the champagne bottle in an attempt to remind Logan of what a bougie, extra bitch he was, “ -sophisticated enough for you.”

Logan shrugged, “I kind of have a fascination with high schoolers-“

“Ok, that’s creepy.”

“Not like that! I mean the culture, the slang, the way it’s its own little society interacting within a larger one!” Logan’s face had split into a grin as he talked, waving his hands excitedly.

Damian didn’t even resist urge to smile back. Seeing Logan like this, well, there was something contagious about it. He couldn’t help but feel slightly in awe of the passion he saw in Logan, “You really like this stuff, don’t you?”

Logan nodded vigorously, “Do you know the new word high schoolers today have invented and are using?”

“Hmm?” Damian prompted. Anything to keep Logan talking like this. Damian wasn’t sure why he wanted to keep Logan talking. It had something to do with the way warmth was spreading out from his core in a way that was far gentler than anything drinks could do.

“Yeet.”

In the adjoining room Damian could see two groups standing on opposite tables chanting “Yeet, Yeet, Yeet, Yeet” as they tossed a smaller student (who looked like they were having the time of their life) back and forth.

“Uhh, I think college kids use that too,” Damian didn’t want to burst Logan’s bubble but he felt like he was losing his mind. At any moment he was going to start cackling.

Logan paused, giving him a pointed stare, “Maybe you do.”

Damian broke. He collapsed forward, glad he had handed the bottle back as he wrapped his arms around his shaking body. He could hardly breathe but he couldn’t stop laughing either. His head was light and buzzing warmly. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, but as tears started streaming out of his eyes, he knew he was officially drunk. Who gave a shit? That had been his goal, right?

He fell all the way down, letting his head land on Logan’s knee. He still couldn’t stop laughing even though it had developed solely into wheezes at that point.

Damian felt a hesitant hand tap on his back before actually settling there, “Are you ok?”

Damian sat up and wiped away the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes, “Bro, you’re so judgmental.”

Logan’s face shifted from concern into a scowl, “Oh. Sorry.”

The heavy bass of whatever song was playing took over the space between them. Damian kept thinking about destroying that gap. All he would have to do would be lean over, rest himself against Logan, maybe fall asleep. Maybe it was the overpriced buzz in his head talking, but he felt safe around Logan.

Out of the blue, Logan stood up, adjusting the hem of his jacket as he turned to face Damian, “Well, I won’t be bothering you anymore. Maybe I’ll see you around campus sometime. You can finish that if you want.”

Damian looked down by his feet where Logan was pointing to the champagne bottle, “Wait, I don’t understand. You’re leaving? Where?”

Logan glanced around, looking anywhere but Damian’s face. Damian was used to that but this felt different. Logan was different. At least under usual circumstances, he knew why people so adamantly refused to acknowledge his existence. He made them uncomfortable; he didn’t like it, but he got it. Here, he was absolutely clueless.

Logan finally managed to make eye contact. He was trying for a smile but as an expert liar, Damian could see straight through to the grimace beneath, “Oh, I’m sure I’ll find someone else who will tolerate my presence for a few moments.”

“Hey,” Damian acted on impulse. After all, Logan’s hand was just hanging there. It was far too empty. And at the moment, reaching forward to grab Logan’s wrist was Damian’s only way to insure that Logan wouldn’t walk away. He knew Logan was a smart guy and would probably see his honeyed whines as deception, but he had to try, “You’re really just going to get me drunk and then ditch me? Who knows what could happen?”

Logan’s eyebrows creased but he didn’t say anything. He looked like he was in pain, eyes sharp and teeth clenched behind a grimace. It was enough to make Damian drop his hand.

“Logan, it’s entirely your choice but if you would like to stay with me, I would enjoy that very much,” Truth wasn’t his strong suit, but he figured it was worth a try.

Logan squinted at him, confused or at least doubtful, “I thought you disliked my judgmental attitude.”

Damian groaned, “Dude... I didn’t mean it like that. I thought it was funny. I think you’re funny.”

“Oh,” Logan looked like he was having a hard time processing Damian’s words. It made him wonder just how many of those tequila shots Logan had thrown back before walking over. He had to be drunk. It was the only way to explain why he was acting so strange.

Damian reached out again and slowly pulled Logan back. He was hesitant but didn’t resist. Logan sat down next to Damian as if he didn’t understand his own actions. His eyes picked Damian apart like he was looking for the fine print.

“You’re sure you don’t mind me?” Logan’s expression was completely open. He was looking for the truth and Damian didn’t think he’d be able to lie if he wanted to. It was a good thing he didn’t need to.

He smiled, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Oh. Ok,” Logan settled back into the couch but his eyebrows were still weaved together. Apparently his programs finished running because he suddenly turned to Damian, grinning brightly, “I’m glad.”

Damian smiled back. He was happy to see Logan with that sparkle back, if a little confused as to how he had caused it, “You’re glad... I don’t mind you?”

Logan nodded, “Some people think I’m a little strange.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Damian winced and tried to rush out his next words, “Not, like, I think you’re strange- I think you’re really cool. I just mean people think I’m strange too.”

Damian swore he could map constellations in the stars floating in Logan’s eyes, “You think I’m cool?”

He shrugged, “I mean, yeah. You always seem to have it all together and you have determination and goals and it’s so obvious that you’re going to reach them. That passion is rare to see any more. I mean, I don’t have any of that. You don’t know how much I looked up to you in that class.”

Logan blinked at him like a deer in headlights for a moment before he began frowning, “But you’re incorrect.”

Damian looked up from where had been trying to see how much champagne was left in the bottle, “What do you mean?”

“You obviously have passion. You always had points to bring up during discussions and it was clear you had deep interest in the topics. You don’t know how in awe of you I was. You always found the least likely angle to take and still managed to make a convincing argument,” Logan took the bottle out of Damian’s frozen hands and took a drink, “It was art.”

Damian opened his mouth but all memory of speech had escape him. He looked away, trying to find something safe to stare at while he tried to gather his thoughts. His head was full of fragments, dulled glass shards that floated through fog and bumped against the edges of his mind. It hurt to try to put them all back together into one piece.

So Logan had noticed him in that class. And had remembered him; quite clearly it seemed. Except the way he was talking... nobody had ever spoken to Damian that way before. He was tempted to ask Logan if he had mistaken him for someone else.

He found his eyes wandering down to the space between them. More accurately, he was staring at how little space there was between them. When Logan had sat down the second time, he had done so right next to Damian. Like, right next to him. Now their legs were pressed together, hips and knees bumping together every time one of them shifted. Damian marveled at the fact that he hadn’t noticed before.

“Damian?” He looked up into Logan’s concerned face. God, they were so close, “Are you ok? Your eyes kinda glazed over.”

Damian laughed. It sounded breathy and far away, “Yeah, I’m good.”

From another room, someone started yelling, “LAST 15 MINUTES OF THE YEAR!!”

Logan squinted down at his watch before glaring in the direction of the voice, “There’s only five minutes left.”

Damian chuckled, watching the lines of Logan’s frown as he grimaced at the sea of people around them. There was something endearing about the blunt disdain Logan had for the idiots around them. It was nice to know he didn’t fit into that group, that he had- by some miracle- managed to fit into Logan’s bubble.

“So... you usually celebrate New Years like this?” Logan had suddenly become quite fidgety, wringing his hands in his lap. Damian tried to ignore it. He was having a hard enough time working on his own thoughts; he couldn’t even begin picking apart Logan’s thoughts.

Damian shook his head, “You mean a party? Nah, I usually don’t even celebrate. What about you?”

“Same. I don’t generally go to parties at all.”

Ah, so Damian’s original impression had been correct, “So what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Logan deftly avoided the question with a smirk. Damn, he was good at this.

Damian rolled his eyes, “Some friends dragged me here. Now you tell me what a straight-laced nerd like you is doing in a place like this.”

Logan snorted, “Don’t remember the last time anyone described me as straight- anything.”

“What?”

“What?”

Damian wanted to shake his head like a dog getting out of water. Maybe then, the pieces would fall into some sort of pattern he could recognize. So Logan wasn’t straight. Why did that make him so happy?

He ran his hands through his hair and tried to gain some composure, “Ok, so what is someone like you doing in a place like this?”

Logan looked out across the crowd, his mouth a tight line. On the other side of the room someone took a running start and flung themselves on a pool table that had currently been in use. The thing cracked in half.  

“I was-,” Logan paused, hands tapping quickly against his leg, “-convinced.”

Damian raised an eyebrow, “I’ve never heard someone talk so ominously about going to a party; what is that even supposed to mean?”

Logan winced. His hands were doing full cardio now, clenching into fists over and over again, “I was told someone was going to be here. I just really wanted the chance to talk to him again.”

“But you’ve only talked to me.”

“Yes,” Logan gave him that stare again like Come on, dude, the puzzle pieces are right there- just put them together. He rubbed his eyes in his hands, “Maybe this was a mistake. I didn’t mean to get you drunk. I thought you’d still be able to figure out-“

Click.

Damian’s mouth fell, “Wait, I’m the one you wanted to talk to?”

Logan gave him a small smile. It was the first time Damian had seen him look unsure of himself, “Well, yeah.”

“Oh,” Damian’s head was swimming. He could have blamed it on the champagne or how late it was or the way the lighting had began strobing, flickering between bright neon shades. But he knew that wasn’t it. He couldn’t lie this time- not even to himself.

Logan’s eyes were wide, staring into Damian. Not into his eyes- him. It was unnerving in the best way possible. The shifting light played across his irises, making them every colour of the rainbow.

“Is that ok?”

Logan’s voice startled him back to the present. He had leaned forward, supposedly to be heard above the shouting that had started. Amongst all of the raised voices, Logan’s had only gotten lower. His breath played against Damian’s ear.

Damian looked up, startled slightly but smiling, “Yeah, yeah, that’s good. That’s great.”

Logan smiled, “Yeah? Great?”

He was definitely leaning forward.

Damian huffed out a sigh but smiled even wider, “Shut up. I’m pretty sure you’re drunk.”

Logan scoffed, “And you’re not? You’re a total lightweight.”

“Shut up.”

“TEN!”

The entire house shook as the ridiculous number of students began screaming in unison

“You know, it’s also tradition to kiss someone on New Years,” Logan looked infuriatingly smug.

“NINE!”

Damian usually hated this part, everyone around him creating one huge voice- everyone but him.

Damian raised an eyebrow, “Are you asking to kiss me?”

“EIGHT!”

What he always hated most was the way the entire world seemed to be celebrating- without him. The whole damn planet filled with joy for one tiny moment and he could never figure out why.

Logan smiled like the Cheshire Cat- except the Cheshire Cat had just won the lottery, “Maybe.”

“SEVEN!”

At this point, his heart rate usually would have been spiking, feeling the pressure of “new opportunities” pressing all their expectant eyes on him.

Damian laughed, “Did you come over to talk to me just so you could get a kiss tonight?”

“SIX!”

There was always a part of Damian that would scorn him for not being happy, question why he had turned out to be such a sad, useless lump while everyone else was happily looking forward to the future.

“No,” Logan set his jaw like a stubborn toddler, “I came over here to talk to you so I could get a kiss from you tonight.”

“FIVE!”

No matter what he did, the New Year would plague him. His whole apartment complex would rattle as chanting counted down. The first hours of the year would often find Damian wandering through empty streets, desperate to escape the celebration.

Logan slid his hand onto Damian’s knee, “So can I? Kiss you?”

“FOUR!”

The whole event was just one monstrous reminder. It was an ugly mar on the calendar that whispered Look at all the things you’ve ruined. Look at how far you’ve fallen. Look at how little your future holds.

Damian nodded dumbly. His heart was pounding in his ears.

“THREE!”

New Year made him think of his parents. He always put on a bright mask for them, feeding them lies of empty aspirations and opportunities that didn’t exist. How would they feel to know their son was barreling headfirst into a dead end?

Damian was learning he didn’t need alcohol; Logan was intoxicating enough. The shine in his eyes, the self-satisfied tug to his lips, the way he kept getting closer and closer- it made Damian’s thoughts slow to a halt and everything around him lose focus.

“TWO!”

Every year, the day after would be exactly like the day before. Everyone else seemed to be determined to make themselves better. As much as he searched, Damian could never find the ways to change. New Years was usually taunting, reminding him that he would always be broken and would never be able to fix himself.

Logan’s hands played across his chest, smoothed over his shoulder, ran through his hair. His eyes found Damian’s soul. Damian couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“ONE!!”

Damian had always hated New Years.

Logan leaned all the way forward and his lips were on Damian’s. It was deeper than Damian was expecting, both of their mouths slightly open. Logan kept surging forward with his whole body, destroying the few inches left between them. Damian happily followed his lead, mindlessly falling into synchronous rhythm as Logan kept moving his lips. Except it wasn’t just his lips; Logan kissed with his whole body. He leaned against Damian and his hands were always roaming, leaving little touches as they danced over Damian’s body.

Sure, Damian had kissed other guys before. But he was pretty sure this was the first time anyone had kissed him.

One of Logan’s hands found its way to Damian’s face. His fingers tapped lightly across his birthmark. Damian remembered the kids who stared without shame, the eyes that would dart away as soon as they saw him, the way he could never hold a conversation without his birthmark joining as an unwanted guest star. Logan hadn’t done any of that. Damian had no words to describe what that man was but he liked it.

Damian broke away, completely out of breath. He had no idea how long they had been kissing- it could have been hours for all he knew- but his lungs didn’t have the same luxury of losing track.

Logan’s chest was heaving as it pressed against Damian’s side. His eyes were wide and glazed, staring a million miles away.

“Hey, Logan?”

Logan’s eyes regained their sharp focus. He smiled brightly, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“You’re a dork. But really,” Damian sighed, “thank you.”

Logan gave him a puzzled smile, “What for?”

“I’m pretty sure this is the first New Year I’ve ever actually enjoyed,” Damian snuggled himself closer to Logan, smiling when he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders.

Logan spoke with measured, careful words, “If you like, we could, you know, make our own New Years tradition out of this.”

Damian could feel his eyelids falling and rising every time he blinked like the great velvet currents of a theatre. They were heavy and he was warm and his head was a vague haze. He yawned widely and wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist, “I don’t think we have to wait until New Year to do this again.”

He fell asleep listening to Logan stuttering out some happy response. Maybe New Years wasn’t so bad.

If you want to be added to my Sanders Sides fic taglist just send me an ask or reply to this post :p 

~ @phan-fander @abi-beehive ~

[woodentranscripts]

Season 1 Episode 1 The Bane of Rudyard

It's the worst day of Rudyard's life when new competitor Eric Chapman arrives on Piffling and becomes an immediate sensation.

Written by David K. Barnes

EPISODE ONE: THE BANE OF RUDYARD

[narration from Madeleine]

Now, Hidden in the English Channel is an island called Piffling. On the island is a village - Piffling Vale - and the village has a square, and the square has this lovely little antique shop but opposite the antique shop is a funeral home which is where much of this chronicle will be set, I’m afraid. You see, I want to tell you all about a man named Rudyard Funn. He owns the funeral parlour, he’s responsible for all the funerals in Piffling Vale and today, he experienced what was undoubtedly the worst day of his life. Which was probably long overdue.

 [funky intro music]

 REV: We gather here today to celebrate the life of Stanley Carmichael, who was taken from us only five days ago   

 He continues

[narration] It all began with a funeral, the antique dealer Stanley Carmichael, whose shop was immediately opposite Rudyard’s premises, had led a life of peace and ordered calm of eighty nine years… and had subsequently crushed to death by a granite sundial. 

 REV: I confess I never actually bought anything from him. His prices have been quite steep actually, though I did have my eye on that sundial. I might still be tempted if it came down in price, hint hint. (laughs)

 [narration] Stanley’s relatives pricked up their ears at the prospect of getting something for that granite sundial. Whilst nearby, his eyes sunken, his skin pale and drawn: stood Rudyard, looking at his watch and wishing strongly that the reverend wasn't an agnostic.

REV: … and undoubtedly looking down at us from his place with God. Unless you don't believe in that sort of thing - which I won’t hold against you, mind you God probably will. Unless he doesn’t exist, in which case he won’t even have anything to complain about, really. 

RUDYARD: (clears throat) Reverend. 

REV: Sorry, did somebody say -

 RUDYARD: Reverend. REV: Oh hello Rudyard- RUDYARD: You’re rambling. REV: Sorry? RUDYARD: You’re rambling again REV: Oh God, am I?

RUDYARD: Yes! REV: I’m so sorry, where was I? RUDYARD: His spirit looking down at us from his place- REV: OH! From his place with God, yes, yes, thank you, right, right, I’ve err Looking down at us from his place with umm… no. No, actually, I don't suppose we could have a quick show of hands? RUDYARD: No! No! Now come on! REV: If you believe in God, could you put your hands up, can we all do that? Put your hands up if you believe, ughh right, right err bout half. Um so! Ah yeah. What I might do is do the service twice- RUDYARD: We don't have time! 

 REV: Once with God in it and the other without. RUDYARD: No! We’re overrunning. REV: Oh! But I thought I might read out a few psalms RUDYARD: Which ones? REV: I don’t mind, I'll be happy to take requests if anyone’s got any favourites? RUDYARD: Nononono. We’re sixteen minutes behind schedule, nearly seventeen. Georgie? (snaps finders) Wake up! GEORGIE: (groans) I don’t want to RUDYARD: We need the coffin in the ground. Now. GEORGIE: Sir, it’s a very heavy coffin RUDYARD: What’s your point? GEORGIE: I’m the only pallbearer RUDYARD: Oh stop moaning, put your back into it! GEORGIE: Ughh Fine! REV: Do we have time for some funny anecdotes? RUDYARD: We’re late as it is and it’s pissing it down - so no. PERSON 1: He’s ruining everything! RUDYARD: There you are reverend, you’re losing them REV: Oh! I thought they were rather getting into it! PERSON 2: Not him, you! RUDYARD: Me? PERSON 3: You horrid little man, stop hurrying things along!

 RUDYARD: Don’t you know what a schedule is? PERSON 3: So rude! RUDYARD: This isn’t my only gig today, you know. I’ve got Mr Ascii to measure up in half an hour! PERSON 1: He’s not dead! RUDYARD: Well he doesn’t look healthy, though, does he? PERSON 3: Stop talking we’re trying to honour Stanley! RUDYARD: Honour Stanley! You didn’t even like him. PERSON 3: How dare you! RUDYARD: I noticed in the shop you slipped that carriage clock down your blouse when you thought no one was looking! (gasps) RUDYARD: And the dressing table! (even more gasps) PERSON 2: I knew it! PERSON 3: Shut up! Bill swiped the portrait of Ova Broughn PERSON 2: Bill! I wanted that portrait! PERSON 1: Well you can’t have it! (gasps) PERSON 1: I’m sorry Jerry, I just lost control, OW REV: Now come, come everyone. Stay calm… Jerry put that shovel down! RUDYARD: Alright, Georgie, get the body in the ground GEORGIE: Sir, They’re not very happy RUDYARD: Of course they don’t look happy, it’s a funeral. Off you go! (she grunts) [narration] The service completed, Rudyard Funn and Georgie Crusoe fled the cemetery and hurried back to the funeral home. Established by local character and serial bigamist Gilbert Funn in the fifteenth century, Funn Funerals have always maintained a solid reputation for being the only funeral home on the island. RUDYARD: (grunts) What it could be a good thing back there, you saw Stanley’s widow GEORGIE: That sad old lady RUDYARD: Yes, when she took a swing at her son in law I think she fell into the grave instead. I don’t know if it was fatal but it looked promising to me GEORGIE: Do you think we’d be able to have a quiet funeral RUDYARD: Asking for the impossible never helped anyone GEORGIE: People smiling, swapping happy memories, I’m not sure every funeral should end with violent conflict RUDYARD: Georgie, once you’ve been here a few more months you’ll realise all funerals always end in bloodshed, there's very little you or I can do about it. Now go and get the measuring kit I want to go to Mr Ascii’s and see if he’s dead yet! GEORGIE: Are you sure it’s worth the bother? RUDYARD: I’ve gone round everyday for the last six weeks, I’m not giving up now, Hop to it! GEORGIE: yes sir~ RUDYARD: Get me a dry jacket, and another hat! Where’s Antigone? Antigone! Now look here, yes. Stanley’s widow! Ha I knew it! No, nothing sorry. We can fit her in a six o clock, I’ll leave her in the ground for the moment, it’ll save time in the long run. No, she shouldn’t be brawling at her age. Of course I could fancy my chances against her, Im thirty-five, she was eighty-two see you at six. Georgie! We’ve got a full day ahead of us! Where’s Antigone? GEORGIE: Try the mortuary! RUDYARD: Are you in the mortuary? Antigone? Antigone? Are you in the mortuary? Antigone? Antigone are you in the- ANTIGONE: What?! RUDYARD: I’m back. ANTIGONE: I’d rather look at the corpses. RUDYARD: Oh for- ANTIGONE: Does rest in peace mean nothing to you?! RUDYARD: Well I don’t hear the guests complaining. Room for another? ANTIGONE: Is it Mr Ascii RUDYARD: Not yet, this ones a bonus! [narration] That’s Antigone, Rudyard’s twin sister, despite actually being born one week afterwards. The poor dear had been diagnosed with depression within twenty minutes of being born - a world record which gave her no consolation at all. ANTIGONE: So how was it today? RUDYARD: Err the vicar’s getting worse and of course it was raining and inevitably it ended with a punchup over a portrait of Eva Broughn. But personally I found it all very moving ANTIGONE: Brilliant, so that's another grieving widow we’re going to have to apologise to RUDYARD: No we won't. ANTIGONE: Why not?! RUDYARD: She fell into the grave and died before I left! ANTIGONE: She what?! RUDYARD: It’s been a very productive morning ANTIGONE: You really have no concept of what good business is, do you? RUDYARD: I’d love to disagree with you and Oh! I’m doing it right now ANTIGONE: I’ve been in the mortuary all morning and do you know what I’ve been up to! RUDYARD: Oh sure I don’t want to know ANTIGONE: I’ve spent the past five hours mixing formaldehyde and methanol with clementine and a tiny, tiny dash of cinnamon. That’s what I’ve been doing for five hours! RUDYARD: Should I ask why? ANTIGONE: To try to make our embalming fluid smell nicer! So the bodies will smell nicer! Because have you really ever smelt a body, Rudyard? RUDYARD: Why do we still talk to each other? ANTIGONE: Now! Thanks to me, they’ll smell brighter, fresher, not like bodies at all. That’s the sort of service I’m striving for, Rudyard. I want them to forget that the body is a body. RUDYARD: Yes that’ll work, our Grandad’s dead but don’t worry because he smells like christmas! ANTIGONE: It’s attention to detail Rudyard! It’s how we run a business, you would know! RUDYARD: We get the body in the coffin in the ground on time GEORGIE: Sir, your other jackets been eaten by moths - I saw the whole thing. RUDYARD: Not now, Georgie, how long did it take for the coffin to get to the ground this morning? GEORGIE: A couple of seconds? RUDYARD: Now that’s a good service! GEORGIE: Because I dropped it RUDYARD: But it got where it needed to be and that’s what they pay us for. ANTIGONE: Rudyard, for the very last time! They don't want chaos! They don’t want stress and they don’t want a relative dead before the first is even been buried! RUDYARD: How do you know what they want?! ANTIGONE: In the name of sanity, Rudyard - RUDYARD: I’ve got a very busy day ahead of , so just get back into the mortuary CHAPMAN: Hello! RUDYARD: Yes? CHAPMAN: Eric, Eric Chapman. I’m new, to the place! Just arrived! GEORGIE: Good morning RUDYARD: Georgie, leave it to the professionals. Good morning. We’ve not met. CHAPMAN: No, because I’m new, to the place RUDYARD: You don't have to brag about it! I have met people before CHAPMAN: You’re Mr Rudyard Funn, of Funn Funerals? RUDYARD: Correct CHAPMAN: Terrific name, suppose you put the fun in funerals RUDYARD: No, of course we don’t, that’s obscene CHAPMAN: Sure, never mind

ANTIGONE: Hello Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: OH! Jesus ANTIGONE: Is this too close? CHAPMAN: A little bit! ANTIGONE: Sorry! CHAPMAN: No, don’t mention it! ANTIGONE: Sorry, I’m Antigone, sorry pleased to meet you. CHAPMAN: Err, likewise call me Eric. Are you in charge? ANTIGONE: I’m the mortician, where the action is, CHAPMAN: I bet there’s not much you don’t know about the body, Antigone? ANTIGONE: That sounded like a double meaning GEORGIE: It’s called flirting ANTIGONE: Oh gosh, is it? CHAPMAN: Well, now ANTIGONE: It’s smashing, do it again, have I made it awkward? DAMN RUDYARD: I haven’t got all day! CHAPMAN: Yes so, Rudyard, Antigone and GEORGIE: Georgie, Hi ANTIGONE: That’s enough! CHAPMAN: I saw you at the funeral, didn’t I GEORGIE: Yeah, helping out, it’s a job RUDYARD: Georgie, don’t give away company secrets GEORGIE: I was only - ANTIGONE: Hang on, you were at the funeral this morning? CHAPMAN: Yes I was RUDYARD: And I’m sure you’re impressed with what you saw there Mr Chapman but we really are frightfully CHAPMAN: Actually I wasn’t entirely sure it came off RUDYARD: I’m sorry? CHAPMAN: For a start it got a little violent didn’t it? RUDYARD: Did you think so? CHAPMAN: At the end yes RUDYARD: I’m not sure what funeral you were watching, Mr Chapman but all I saw was good clean mourning CHAPMAN: Didn’t someone die? RUDYARD: A very convenient place for it to happen, Georgie GEORGIE: I’m not RUDYARD: There you go, don’t let us keep you Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: And I thought there could have been a greater attention to detail. Stop me if I’m getting too critical. RUDYARD: Okay I’ll stop you there ANTIGONE: Shut up, carry on Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: Eric ANTIGONE: Gosh CHAPMAN: I have to say it was a little bit grim, I mean it’s a funeral it’s hardly party time but even so these occasions should be a celebration of life rather than going on about death, do you know what I mean? RUDYARD: Nope CHAPMAN: Ah, I don’t want to be made more miserable and I want to remember those happy magnificent memories, I want a cheerful atmosphere, bright flowers, music, funny recolations ANTIGONE: Sweeter smelling fluids CHAPMAN: Exactly, fluids? ANTIGONE: I think they’re very important. CHAPMAN: Sure thing. That's what I mean! Sorting out those little details, pushing the boat out, or the hearse out, well that's just my two cents for what it’s worth RUDYARD: Well, I don’t know what planet you live on, Mr Chapman, but - ANTIGONE: Thank you! We’ll bear those things in mind, won’t we Rudyard. RUDYARD: remind me- ANTIGONE: Smashing! CHAPMAN: Anyway, I thought I’d swing by ANTIGONE: Oh any time! CHAPMAN: Thank you, ANTIGONE: Any time at all CHAPMAN: Yes, I was just swinging by to see the competition. RUDYARD: Competition? CHAPMAN: Yes. ANTIGONE: You mean like a raffle? CHAPMAN: Not exactly RUDYARD: I hate raffles CHAPMAN: That’s a strange thing to hate. I meant you lot! Er, Funn Funerals the local competition… In funerals RUDYARD: You’re an undertaker. CHAPMAN: Well clients prefer funeral director ANTIGONE: You’re just visiting though?! CHAPMAN: No, I live here now, I’m setting myself up ANTIGONE: Your own funeral home? CHAPMAN: yeah, Chapmans, not quite as catchy as Funn Funerals but there we are ANTIGONE: Where are you going to be? CHAPMAN: You know the antique dealer you just buried, Stanley Carmichael? I’m just taking over his premises. ANTIGONE: Just across the square! CHAPMAN: That’s right! Opposite you actually, we’ll probably see a lot of each other, compare notes, swap stories, down the pub - mine’s a light ale by the way. Err did someone die in here? RUDYARD: Goodbye Chapman. CHAPMAN: Oh sure! Glad to meet you Rudyard, Antigone ANTIGONE: Chapman. CHAPMAN: Georgie GEORGIE: See you later ANTIGONE: That’s enough! CAPMAN: Okay. (exhales) Enjoy yourselves! Ah! The sun’s come out! RUDYARD: If he thinks I’m going to buy him a light ale, he’s very much mistaken. ANTIGONE: Oh shut up Rudyard! This is actually very serious. GEORGIE: He seemed fine ANTIGONE: No he didn’t, Georgie, coming over here waving his credentials in our faces, giving us feedback, my god! GEORGIE: I thought you liked him? ANTIGONE: Liked him?! Liked him?! GEORGIE: Yeah! You were talking about fluids and everything! ANTIGONE: That’s professional chit-chat for god’s sake, do you think I like gorgeous handsome men, do you? Exactly, it’s disgusting, it’s disgusting RUDYARD: I can’t think of a scenario where I would buy someone a light ale ANTIGONE: Rudyard, focus! He is serious competition RUDYARD: Him? Competition? Were you listening to the man? GEORGIE: No she wasn’t, She was gazing into his eyes ANTIGONE: Georgina! Go and make some tea. GEORGIE: We haven’t got a kettle ANTIGONE: Buy one. GEORGIE: Fine ANTIGONE: Rudyard, we’re finished, I think I’ll take a cyanide capsule RUDYARD: We are not finished, we’re an established firm, going back centuries! Nobody round here is going to book a funeral with a complete stranger. ANTIGONE: Rudyard! Look At His Shop! RUDYARD: What is it? ANTIGONE: He’s already changed the sign! ‘Chapman’s’ Just like he said. RUDYARD: I’ll admit he’s working quickly. ANTIGONE: That does it. You’ve got to see the mayor, tell him this village isn’t big enough for two funeral homes! RUDYARD: That’s not a bad idea actually, I’ll see him now. (leaves) One day I’ll find an umbrella. [narration] Rudyard scuttled across the village square and up the step leading to Piffling Hall. He was shown into the office of the Right Honourable Mayor Desmond Desmond. A man who thought the most wonderful words in the english language were “I’m sure it’s going to be fine!” SECRETARY: Mr Rudyard Funn to see you sir. MAYOR: Oh, Thank you Margery RUDYARD: Your worship, I really am most desperately sorry to- where are you? MAYOR: Down here, Rudyard, Under the desk. RUDYARD: Why? MAYOR: Ohh, just sitting here, you know. Doing a bit of thinking, big world out there RUDYARD: Yes, er I came to ask you- MAYOR: Rudyard, do you know what the difference is between a village and a town. RUDYARD: Well er, a town has a greater area, MAYOR: Yes? RUDYARD: Higher population, more amenities MAYOR: Ah, amenities, yes RUDYARD: A mayor! MAYOR: oh yes RUDYARD: I actually came to- MAYOR: We have to do something, Rudyard, with our lives haven’t we Rudyard? Don’t you think? RUDYARD: Yes! MAYOR: I look at my seal of office sometimes and all my envelopes, and I read my name, and have I done enough I ask myself, am I even Right Honourable because I don’t feel it. RUDYARD: Well, to call yourself Right Honourable you have to be a judge or a privy counsellor MAYOR: Really? I’m going to change all my stationary now! You see, this is the thing I’m talking about! What have I earned? What have I achieved? God knows we have to try and justify ourselves, somehow. RUDYARD: mhm, I don’t like the man across the road from me. MAYOR: Exactly, and then what with my sister passing the bucket last week, oh top drawer send off you chaps gave her by the way. RUDYARD: Oh, thank you! MAYOR: Oh, pity it rained RUDYARD: Yes well MAYOR: Can’t help that, or the grounds subsidence, still we all laughed seeing her flopping about like that did we- anyway, Do you know what I’ve decided to do, Rudyard? I am going to turn this village into a town. That’s what I’m going to do. I mean things must expand, mustn’t they? RUDYARD: Probably? MAYOR: Do you think so? Good! She used to say terrible things to me, my sister RUDYARD: I’ve got a problem actually MAYOR: Have you? Well can I help, cause I really like to be useful RUDYARD: I think you can be, you see, your worship, there’s this man. MAYOR: He’s not worth it Rudyard. RUDYARD: Yes. What? No I mean, this man is opening a new funeral home directly across the road from mine. MAYOR: Is that a problem? RUDYARD: We can’t have two funeral homes can’t we? MAYOR: Can’t we, why not RUDYARD: Well it’d be ridiculous! MAYOR: I don’t was to look ridiculous! RUDYARD: Exactly! If we have two funeral homes, why not two fire stations, two hospitals, two mayors! MAYOR: Two mayors!?! Could it really get that far? RUDYARD: I would hate to speculate MAYOR: Help me up, would you? Yes, I think we should stab this in the bud immediately. Thank you Rudyard. RUDYARD: Thank you your worship! MAYOR: Gets me out the office anyway RUDYARD: Well from under the desk. MAYOR: We won't talk about that. Margery, cancel my appointments for today SECRETARY: There aren’t any MAYOR: Thank you! Off we go, Rudyard [narration] Upon arriving at Chapman’s, Rudyard and the - until recently Right Honourable Mayor Desmond Desmond discovered that the place was about ready to be opened! And it wasn’t yet even midday! Rudyard braced himself for a sinister journey into the unknown MAYOR: Wasn’t this place an antique shop a few hours ago? RUDYARD: I don’t understand how he has managed to do all this?! MAYOR: Bit flash isn’t it, all these happy colours, not a patch on your set up, look not a speck of dust anywhere! RUDYARD: I mean, he arrived this morning! MAYOR: It must be said though, these sofas are really comfy! Is that a coffee machine? RUDYARD: Yes? MAYOR: Does your place have one of those? RUDYARD: We bought a kettle only half an hour ago CHAPMAN: Hi, sorry to keep you waiting as you can imagine, it’s all go here! RUDYARD: Is that a lift?! CHAPMAN: Mr Mayor, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Eric Chapman, there are some chocolate truffles in the bowl there, help yourself. Would you like the tour, I’d love to show you around, it’s still not quite finished MAYOR: Perhaps another time, Mr Chapman RUDYARD: You’ve got a lift?! MAYOR: Umm, I don’t know quite how to say this but CHAPMAN: How to say what, Mr Mayor? MAYOR: Well, it’s very naughty of you to have done this, is it? CHAPMAN: Is it? MAYOR: Oh without permission I mean CHAPMAN: But you gave me permission MAYOR: Did I? CHAPMAN: I mean before I came here, I was calling back and forth with your people and everything got sorted and err where are we, here we are, look, here’s your signature MAYOR: Yes, the smiley face in the ‘O’ well, it’s definitely mine! You must understand, I don't always read everything I’m given, I am usually kept very busy CHAPMAN: I’m sure, don’t worry about it MAYOR: What do you think? Rudyard? RUDYARD: That’s a really nice lift?!! CHAPMAN: Oh thanks Rudyard MAYOR: Yes, well, even with all this I mean, I am the mayor aren’t I and I have the perfect right to change my mind. CHAPMAN: Oh do you not want me here? MAYOR: No no no no! Not that but you see it’s just that well err, Rudyard? RUDYARD: Sorry? Yes er, Now Look Here CHAPMAN: Yes? RUDYARD: We’ve already got a funeral home MAYOR: Exactly! We’ve already got one and will the best will in the world we can’t have two funeral homes, can we? CHAPMAN: Why? MAYOR: Because, well, then you see, we’d need apparently have to have two hospitals you see? CHAPMAN: That’s a great idea MAYOR: Is it? Oh well good, I’d get onto that! BUT No, nevertheless the village just can’t sustain two funeral homes can it? CHAPMAN: You could be right there MAYOR: Could I? RUDYARD: Told you so CHAPMAN: But you know what could sustain two funeral homes? MAYOR: No? CHAPMAN: A town! MAYOR: A town? You say? RUDYARD: Hmm No! No- CHAPMAN: Now don’t get me wrong, this is a great village but I think it’s going to be an even greater town! And I want to help you do that in the only way I can: with a funeral home. MAYOR: Can I ask you a question? CHAPMAN: Go for it MAYOR: If we had two funeral homes would we need two mayors as well? CHAPMAN: No. That’s ridiculous MAYOR: Oh, excellent in that case I hereby pronounce this funeral home: open! RUDYARD: What? What are they doing there?! CHAPMAN: We’re taking advance orders, it’s just a service we provide. MAYOR: Well, I won’t take up any more of your time. Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: Oh please, Mr Mayor, It’s Eric MAYOR: Best of luck Eric, if you are ever at a loose end, do pop by the hall, sometimes we have movie nights! CHAPMAN: I’ll remember that and if you ever need our services it’s on the house. MAYOR: Tremendous, looking forward to it, now RUDYARD: Now, now hang on, we- MAYOR: Glad to have you here CHAPMAN: Mr Mayor MAYOR: No no no, call me Desmond! Ttfn CHAPMAN: Talk to you later, Desmond MAYOR: Should I leave the doors open? CHAPMAN: Oh, if you would, Rudyard I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat, can I get you anything. Oh I know what, make yourself a cup of coffee, I’ll better see to that queue eh? Enjoy yourself! Don’t forget the truffles! Good morning ladies and gentlemen, well afternoon now. Well, I’m delighted to say welcome to Chapman’s and remember: We put the fun in funerals RUDYARD: Chapman! [narration] After a coffee, and a couple of truffles, Rudyard stormed out, seething with resentment. He kicked a small dog and got bitten by its owner. Having gotten back to Funn Funerals, Rudyard sat down on a chair by the window and stared out across the road muttering out loud to his only real friend in the world RUDYARD: (muttering) It’s only a funeral home who the hell do they think they are eh? (squeaks) RUDYARD: Exactly, I give him a week, alright maybe two.. Ah he might have gold blend and lounge music but you can’t put a glass on the mechanics. We get the body in the coffin in the ground on time, That’s what it's about, I bet his corpses don't smell of cinnamon. Yeah, we’ll see who runs this village. ANTIGONE: Rudyard you’re talking to that mouse again aren’t you? RUDYARD: Her name is Madeleine ANTIGONE: It’s not normal! RUDYARD: Antigone, you spend twenty-three hours a day in the mortuary don’t try to tell me what’s normal. Off you go Madeleine, we’ll continue this later ANTIGONE: You haven’t moved all afternoon! RUDYARD: I don’t need to move, I’m plotting ANTIGONE: Where’s Georgie? RUDYARD: Day off, no work, plotting. ANTIGONE: Rudyard, for the first time in our lives we actually have competition which means we could really do with having some friends so could you get out there and make some? RUDYARD: I’ll do it tomorrow ANTIGONE: Have you at least gone round to check on Mr Ascii RUDYARD: Who? ANTIGONE: Mr Ascii, the man we’ve been waiting to die for six weeks, because so help me I need to embalm somebody and it could quite easily be you RUDYARD: Look Mr Ascii’s immortal, he’ll never die so what’s the point about it. Now Look Here, Georgie? What? Right, I’ll see you there. Mr Ascii’s dead. ANTIGONE: Is he? RUDYARD: Yes. OH MY GOD MR ASCII’S DEAD! ANTIGONE: How?! RUDYARD: Heart attack, half an hour ago it’s all around the village, Antigone, I’m so happy! ANTIGONE: Took him long enough RUDYARD: Ahh He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead! ANTIGONE: Rudyard! Stop being happy and get over there now! RUDYARD: Sorry, yes, get over there, I’m gone. Rudyard is back in the game! … Rudyard is going to get wet! Have the mortuary ready! ANTIGONE: And Rudyard, don’t cock it up. [narration] Before you judge Rudyard too harshly at his delight at an old man’s demise, I should tell you that Mr Ascii was Rudyard’s old PE teacher at school so his delight is almost entirely justified. Rudyard met Georgie at Mr Ascii’s bijuu residence at five forty-five. GEORGIE: Okay, okay  RUDYARD: Georgie GEORIGIE: Sir? RUDYARD: Say it again for me won’t you, say it again GEORGIE: Alright, Mr Ascii’s dead but listen I’ve got- RUDYARD: Yeessssss, Get in there my son… whatever that means GEORGIE: Yeah I ought to say- RUDYARD: I’ve been looking forward to putting him in the ground, can’t mock me for losing the 200 metre dash now can you, Mr Ascii! GEORGIE: Before you get excited RUDYARD: Right yes, got to straighten up, think grave. How do I look? GEORGIE: Miserable RUDYARD: Great, let’s go GEORGIE: But sir, NURSE: Could we please have some quiet out here, oh it’s you, Mister Funn RUDYARD: Good afternoon nurse, Could please take this opportunity to convey my most prevermed(???) condolences NURSE: Thank you Mister Funn RUDYARD: I’m sure my apprentice Ms Crusoe, has already carried out our preliminary duties so I think in the interest of efficiency we should let the dog see the rabbit, if you’ll take me through NURSE: Well, This is actually rather embarrassing RUDYARD: Oh please don’t say it’s a false alarm! NURSE: In a sense,,, yes RUDYARD: Oh for, Georgie you said he was dead GEORGIE: He is dead RUDYARD: But, ugh, Nurse, one of us in this corridor is deeply confused and I’m beginning to believe it might be you NURSE: No? RUDYARD: I knew it, she’s mad, grab her Georgie. NURSE: I’m not mad! RUDYARD: That’s what a mad person would say, Georgie GEORGIE: Let’s do this CHAPMAN: Rudyard! Great to see you RUDYARD: Chapman! CHAPMAN: Busy afternoon, eh, hello Georgie GEORGIE: Hey, Eric RUDYARD: Stop flirting. Nurse, I demand this man be told to vacate this bijuu residence immediately CHAPMAN: Look, this is my bad, and I’ve really got to apologise for this one NURSE: Mr Ascii requested it! RUDYARD: He what? NURSE: With his final words he said he couldn’t bare to get buried by such a feeble little weed as Rudyard Funn CHAPMAN: Interesting man, he wanted to see my gold medals from the 200 metre dash, gotta say I wasn’t expecting business to kick off so quickly NURSE: You’re doing a most proper job Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: Thank you nurse, I think we’ll collect him first thing tomorrow. Anyway must run, good to see you Rudyard, Georgie. Enjoy yourselves! Ahh NURSE: What a charming man, I hear he’s still a bachelor RUDYARD: So am I.. NURSE: Yes well, hardly surprising is it? GEORGIE: Ahh well, can’t win em all eh sir? Sir, are you alright? RUDYARD: I am so… SIX O CLOCK GEORGIE: Six o clock? RUDYARD: Six o clock! The cemetery, Stanley’s widow, Stanley Carmichael’s widow in the cemetery at six o clock! GEORGIE: Oh yeah! I forgot about that! RUDYARD: What time is it? GEORGIE: About five to six but you’ll never get there. Sir?! Oh for god’s sake, Rudyard! Come back here you stupid. [narration] Rudyard raced down the cliff, past the trees and through the streets with speed that would have finally impressed Mr Ascii, had he not already been dead. His lungs aching for breath, his limbs trembling with the effort, Rudyard tumbled into the cemetery at exactly one minute past six. To discover… RUDYARD: It’s…. It’s all REV: Ahh, there you are Rudyard! RUDYARD: Reverend? What’s going on? REV: Well, I arrived to oversee the preliminaries on Mrs Carmichael’s err, transferal to a better world - if such a place exists - which i'm not certain about one way or the other, and I found that her family and friends had been gathered together already for the funeral. RUDYARD: For the funeral? REV: Since the deceased was already here, and sensibly dressed, he just got it done out of the way, young fella named Eric, got his own funeral practise I understand. I’m hearing marvelous things about it. He’s got a coffee machine! Led them all a couple of sing songs actually, even had my speech prepared for me! Very succinct it was, breezed through it all in no time. RUDYARD: Chapman… REV: Oh he also found a lake! Over there! I think we’re all going boating in a minute. He owns a boat you know RUDYARD: Chapman! REV: Anyway, I better get to be going back to it, we’re having jelly and ice cream, bags of fun. Goodbye, Rudyard! Or should I say: Enjoy yourself! RUDYARD: I see. I see. Well CHAPMAN: Hello Rudyard. RUDYARD: Oh. It’s. you. Did a fair job I hear, congratulations, don’t think it will always be like this they won’t hand it to you on a plate you know, they won’t do that. This is very much the exception. Oh what? What? You can talk can’t you? Say something? CHAPMAN: Rudyard. Have a nice evening. RUDYARD: What do you- What do you mean: have a nice evening? What do you mean by that remark, Chapman? What if I don’t want to have a nice evening? Eh? What if I Don’t? Chapman! What did you mean! Chapman! Chapman?! [narration] Today had been the worst day of Rudyard’s life, until tomorrow came along and topped it. I was there to jot it all down from first hand observation (and a little bit of gossip I picked up later) and of course, being his only real friend in the world, Rudyard tells me everything. My name is Madeleine - I’m going to be the first mouse to be a Sunday Times Best Seller, and I know for a fact that Rudyard want to revenge himself on Eric by well, we’ll burn that bridge when be come to it